Liar Liar

125

McAndrew stopped in her tracks the moment she saw him.

She’d visited the hospital first thing to speak with Mandy Blayne’s care team, who’d confirmed that mother and baby were doing fine. Satisfied and relieved, McAndrew had decided to visit the ward briefly before leaving. Mandy didn’t have any family locally and, given what she’d been through, McAndrew was keen to spend a few minutes with her before getting back to work. But as she approached her bedside, she realized that Mandy was not alone.

A man in his forties was sitting with her, holding her hand and talking earnestly to her. Normally she would have withdrawn – their conversation was intense and intimate – but this time she had no intention of leaving. There was something familiar about this guy, even though McAndrew was sure she’d never seen his face before. The dark jeans, work boots, puffawaist coat – this was the man whom they had caught on CCTV jogging away from Denise Roberts’s house. It was Naomie Jackson’s father, Darren Betts.

‘Why didn’t you come forward?’

McAndrew had hauled Darren Betts out of the ward and now sat opposite him in a junior doctor’s office. She’d have preferred to interview him back at Southampton Central, but she had no grounds to arrest him – yet.

‘You must have known it was you in that CCTV footage.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Don’t take me for a fool, Darren. The whole of Southampton has seen that footage. Just like they’ve seen mugshots of your daughter, thanks to her role in these arson attacks.’

‘Kids, eh?’

‘Why were you running away from Denise Roberts’s house the night it went up?’

‘I had nothing to do with that. I like Denise.’

‘When it suited you. Did you know that your daughter hated her?’

‘Of course not, I would have straightened her out if I’d known.’

‘Tell me about your relationship with Callum Roberts.’

The sudden change of subject seemed to unnerve Betts and he said nothing in reply.

‘He hated you, didn’t he? And I bet he made his feelings plain. Did you want to teach him a lesson?’

‘I don’t go about setting people’s houses on fire. If Naomie’s coughed for that, it’s her business.’

Looking at him across the untidy desk, McAndrew felt nothing but contempt for Darren Betts. Even now that his daughter was facing a life behind bars, he accepted no responsibility for her actions, nor did he seem to care what became of her.

‘What about Mandy Blayne? Getting too clingy, was she? Trying to trap you into being a babyfather?’

‘You’re way off beam, petal. I love these women. I love them too much. That’s always been my problem.’

‘Which is why I find it surprising that you didn’t come forward after Denise Roberts was murdered?’

‘You think I’d willingly come and talk to you lot?’ Betts laughed.

‘I would if I was in the frame for murder.’

‘And give your mob the chance to fit me up? You clearly didn’t have a clue who was behind it and I know how you coppers work when you’re in a fix -’

‘Can you tell me where you were on the night of Tuesday, 8 December?’ McAndrew interrupted, changing tack again. ‘The night the Simms house was attacked? I’m going to need you to account for your movements.’

Darren Betts stared straight at McAndrew. The good humour he’d displayed thus far now vanished in the blink of an eye. His expression was cold and unforgiving. And when he finally spoke, his tone was distinctly hostile.

‘Now you listen to me, girl, and listen good. I’ve had it with these questions. My daughter is responsible for this madness – not me – and nothing you do or say is going to change that. So either you arrest me right now or you let me go back to my Mandy.’

He fixed her with a withering stare:

‘This conversation is over.’