Part Seventy Three
Jo felt drained. It was almost seven thirty in the evening, and she was still at her desk. This wasn't anything especially out of the ordinary, but today hadn't been an ordinary day. Karen Betts should have been just another case, just another job. but there was far more to it than that. Having first got to know her as a major prosecution witness during the Merriman/Atkins trial, she was now learning more and more about this woman, in an effort to bring another case to court, this time one that directly reflected on Karen. In transcribing the conversation she'd had with her, Jo was perfectly well aware that she was committing the cardinal sin of becoming too emotionally involved with the case. But she couldn't help it. She'd sat here, and watched Karen completely unravel before her eyes, like a jumper whose thread has been pulled once too often. What was she supposed to do, remain aloof, cold, as if Karen's pain hadn't affected her in the slightest. She could almost hear John's voice in her head telling her that yes, to a certain extent, this is what she should do. She'd written down every word of that interview, noted every alteration in tone of voice and facial expression. She'd even recorded the lighting of cigarettes and the exact moment Karen had begun to cry. Jo explained this to herself by thinking that she needed to be able to assess which points of the possible testimony would be most stressful to Karen, and which would therefore leave her open and vulnerable to some cutthroat defense barrister. This was stupid, she eventually thought. She'd been going over and over this for too much of the day. In between every other person she'd seen, she'd continuously revisited the conversation in her head, analysing and deconstructing, trying to decide whether they really would have a case. Picking up the phone, she dialled George's number.
"George, it's Jo, are you busy?"
"Nothing that can't wait. Why?"
"Karen Betts came to see me today, to start putting a case together against James Fenner."
"About bloody time," Was George's firm response. "Do you think you've got a case?"
"I'm not sure. Can I borrow the files you've got on Fenner?"
"Of course. I'd quite like to get them out of the house."
"Are they that bad?"
"Not nice is certainly an understatement. Do you need a sounding board?" Slightly wondering where George's sensitivity and intuition had suddenly come from, Jo said,
"It probably wouldn't do me any harm." George having given her directions, Jo switched off her computer, collected both the transcript of her interview with Karen and Helen Stewart's report, and walked out to her car.
She was intrigued at the thought of seeing George's house. What you can't tell about a person after seeing inside their house just isn't worth knowing. It would also be interesting to see where John had spent a few years of his life, supposedly committed to one woman. when she drew up in George's drive, Jo also wondered if after five days, the black-eye had gone. She walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. When George appeared, she was wearing a pair of black jeans and a white silk blouse. Jo had never seen her so casually dressed before, and briefly thought it suited her.
"I do dress down occasionally, you know," Mocked George as she led her towards the lounge. Jo was impressed. She couldn't help but be impressed. The room they were in stretched from the front of the house to the back, with a large bay window at the front and French windows leading out to the garden at the back. along the far wall opposite the door, was a lovely stone fireplace clearly meant for an open fire. On the wall to the right of the fireplace, though some distance between it and the French windows, was an exquisite baby grand. There was a small TV in one corner, and a cabinet clearly holding a stereo in another. There was an enormous sofa opposite the fireplace with a coffee table in front of it, and numerous armchairs dotted here and there. Jo also noticed a Stubs hanging above the piano and a beautiful but very understated painting of a bowl of lilies over the fireplace. Observing Jo glancing at it, George said,
"John always said he married me for my Monet." Jo laughed, some of the day's tension finally beginning to leave her. "Would you like a drink?" George asked.
"Yes please, I need one after today." After pouring Jo a scotch and herself a gin and tonic, George sat on the sofa and Jo sank gratefully in to an armchair, feeling so exhausted that she thought she might not get up again.
"So," Said George, lighting a cigarette. "Why don't you think you'll make a case out of it?"
"Do you remember the day when we recalled Karen and Fenner to the stand?"
"Vividly," George said drily. "Why?"
"At the end of the morning session, you said that you thought Karen Betts had slept with Ritchie Atkins because she needed to punish herself for not having been able to stop Fenner doing what he did to her."
"That's incredibly insightful for me, I must have been having an off day." Jo's eyes flickered with the hint of a smile.
"I think it goes deeper than that," She said, helping herself to one of George's cigarettes. "After what I heard this morning, I'd bet that Stubs that she went looking for a bit of rough from Ritchie Atkins, because she needed some proof, some evidence that she actually had been raped by Fenner. I think she felt mentally and emotionally raped, but needed the physical action from Ritchie to go with it."
"If she doesn't believe it herself, you've got no chance of getting her to convince a jury."
"I might be wrong, but I think she feels that it was all she deserved." At George's raised eyebrow, Jo handed over the file she'd brought with her. Inside, was the audiotranscription of their conversation that morning, Helen Stewart's report of sexual assault and Karen's initial statement to the police. George began to read. Jo watched her, looking out for any reaction. George hadn't been reading long when she looked up and stared at Jo slightly wide-eyed.
"Charm personified?" Asked Jo, referring to how Karen had described Fenner.
"Yes," Drawled George. "That description is a little too close for comfort." Jo couldn't have put it better herself. The fact that, in describing her first impression of Fenner, Karen had unwittingly given a perfect summing up of John was bizarre to say the least. A little further on, George asked,
"Who's Tessa Spall?"
"I vaguely remembered the case when Karen mentioned her, but I looked it up after she left. Tessa Spall was given life for dismembering her sister, and then savagely attacked a prison officer." George grimaced.
"Now I know why I don't normally do criminal work," She said, returning to the story. Jo's gaze was fixed on George as she continued reading, observing every roll of the eyes, every intake of breath, every wince. Apart from the turning of the pages, George was utterly still. But her face betrayed every involuntary reaction to what she was reading. When she'd finished with the transcript, she moved on to Helen Stewart's report of sexual assault and briefly ran her eyes over Karen's police statement.
"There's an awful lot of pieces missing from this jigsaw," She said eventually.
"I know, but I didn't think today was quite the right time to start digging."
"Fill me in on what she said about Grayling warning her off."
"When the threat of Fenner sending the pictures of her to the press didn't work, Neil Grayling told Karen that he had talked to someone from the CPS who'd said that they weren't going to take up the case. At the time, Karen had no reason not to believe him. On the day when Karen was first in the witness box, Brian Cantwell brought up the issue of the supposedly fake rape allegation. After court, John talked to Karen, and they managed to establish that the contact Grayling said he had at the CPS, didn't exist. John is fairly sure that the person Neil Grayling was in touch with, was Sir Ian Rochester. Let's face it, a prison officer being tried for rape wouldn't exactly put the prison service in a good light, now would it."
"This just gets more corrupt by the minute!" Said George, clearly furious. She got up and refilled their glasses.
"I think whatever you managed to dig up on Fenner might help to fill in some of the gaps," Said Jo. George went to her office at the other side of the house, and returned carrying a folder simply baring Fenner's name. After handing it to Jo, it was George's turn to watch as the other woman read some of the horrors of this case.
On opening the file, Jo was first presented with a report on the suicide of a girl named Rachel Hicks. It simply documented that this nineteen-year-old girl was found hanged in her cell at first unlock, and that the day before she killed herself, she had trashed her cell, and had been moved off the enhanced regime as punishment. It had been assumed by Helen Stewart and James Fenner, that this was all a response to Rachel's mother having put Rachel's ten-month-old daughter in to care.
"Why do you think Fenner was involved with Rachel Hicks?" Asked Jo, having given the document the cross-examination that came naturally to her.
"I don't have all the answers for that one," Said George, "It was simply given to me when I asked for everything connected to James Fenner's time at Larkhall prison. That one's probably the one that needs the most digging." Jo was next confronted by a report of an alleged assault on Michelle Dockley by Principal Officer James Fenner. Both Karen Betts as accompanying officer and Helen Stewart as wing governor had written reports on the alleged incident. The inmate, Shell Dockley, had presented with injuries consistent with having been beaten up, and had alleged that James Fenner had done this to her. During her interview with Helen Stewart, Dockley had also stated that Fenner had been forcing her to have sex with him, and that he had also done this with Rachel Hicks. The police did some preliminary investigation in to the matter, but before they could make up their minds, Dockley withdrew her allegation.
"Karen thinks someone smuggled in a letter from him," Added Jo.
"I used to think the LCD was the most corrupt institution I'd ever come across," Observed George, "But now I'm beginning to wonder." The next thing involving Dockley, was the report of the stabbing. As the resident prison service professional at the time, Helen Stewart had conducted a thorough investigation, concluding that Dockley had intended to stab Fenner, no matter what and that as far as she could deduce, he hadn't been doing anything untoward by being inside her cell.
"Bet she kicked herself for that," Said Jo drily.
"Hindsight's a wonderful thing," Replied George, lighting another cigarette. Reaching over for Helen Stewart's report of sexual assault which George had laid down on the sofa, Jo slotted it in to it's rightful place datewise. Pulling out the next sheaf of papers, Jo whistled.
"I take it that's the one about the escape," Deduced George. Jo read in stunned silence.
"It says here that Fenner was suspected of providing Michelle Dockley and Daniella Blood with the means to abscond, and that when questioned, he became extremely overwrought, possibly displaying the type of violence that could have resulted in the previously alleged assault on Shell Dockley."
"They were looking at him bloody closely," Confirmed George, "They just couldn't prove anything."
"This would be dynamite with a jury if it could be verified. Where the hell did you get all this?" George smirked.
"Look at the author of that last report, the one about Fenner's dose of the third degree. Mrs. Alison Warner, was once a client of mine. Before working for area management, she used to be fairly high up in one of the major credit agencies. I only just managed to save her neck from an enormous fine for violation of the Data Protection Act. It was a good time to call in the favour she owed me, because she was able to give me area management's files on not just Fenner, but most of your witnesses." Jo stared at her.
"You've got absolutely no scruples, have you?"
"There was a lot riding on that case," Said George, her face clouding over. Jo's gaze briefly moved to where there was now only the faintest mark of the healed cut and a slight darkening of the skin to indicate a recently departed bruise. Jo found herself lost for what to say. "I'm okay, really," Said George, correctly interpreting Jo's unspoken question. "It's quite odd having the house to myself again, but I'll get used to it." Turning back to the seemingly endless Fenner file, Jo then extracted possibly the only report putting Fenner in anything resembling a positive light. this document, which almost looked out of place amongst the others, stated that Fenner, with the help of Yvonne Atkins, had uncovered the true killers of Virginia O'Kane, a former prostitute and owner of numerous massage parlours, who had been murdered inside the prison. At the time, it had been assumed that Yvonne Atkins was the culprit. This had been further enhanced by an attempt to abscond by Yvonne Atkins, foiled by James Fenner and Karen Betts. some time after this, Fenner and Atkins had gone to Grayling, the newly arrived governing governor, with the story and the proof that Atkins was innocent.
"Now why would he do a thing like that?" Asked Jo. "He loathes Yvonne, at least that's how it's always appeared."
"Oh, there'd be a reason," Remarked George, sarcasm dripping from every pore. "Perhaps Yvonne could tell you." George handed over the copies of Karen's police statement and the transcript, which Jo slotted in to the back of the file. then Jo seemed to remember something.
"When you were cross-examining Fenner the first time round, you mentioned someone else, someone called Maxine Purvis. Why?"
"I wondered when you'd remember her," Observed George, clearly enjoying the amount of knowledge she had to impart. "Alison Warner wasn't the only person I contacted. Old clients do come in very useful sometimes. Monica Lindsay was convicted of fraud, and spent about nine months at Larkhall, on the same wing where James Fenner was then and is now working. I passed her case on to someone else when it became a criminal rather than a civil case. I wasn't very hopeful that she would be able to supply me with anything useful, as her incarceration was some time ago and she wasn't there for long. But I underestimated how strong friendships made on the inside are. She still has regular contact with two former prostitutes who are still serving time there now. In one of their numerous phonecalls to her, they had talked a lot about Fenner, especially about his sleeping with various inmates. His most recent acquisition before the Snowball Merriman fiasco was Maxine Purvis." Jo began looking through the reports on Fenner, knowing she'd seen that name somewhere. When she found what she was looking for, she stared slightly goggle-eyed at George.
"It says here that Maxine Purvis was one of Virginia O'Kane's killers."
"Yes, and I think you'll find that if you ask Karen Betts about the pair of knickers that were left in her in-tray, you'll discover that they belonged to none other than Maxine Purvis."
"Jesus," Said Jo, "This just gets more complicated by the minute."
"He's been able to get away with everything so far, because Rachel Hicks killed herself, Helen Stewart left, though we don't know why, Michelle Dockley is currently languishing in Ashmore secure psychiatric hospital, and Maxine Purvis also killed herself. If he relies on the fact that area management won't look in to things too deeply, which is exactly what they've done, it's Karen's word against his. With absolutely no physical evidence and his other four victims that we know about either dead, departed or doped up to the eyeballs, I'd say you've got about as much chance of getting this to court, as I had of getting Merriman and Atkins found not guilty."
"He can not be allowed to get away with this," Said Jo furiously. "We've got only half the story so far, and already we've identified five probable victims of his unwanted attention. How many more are there?"
"Considering that he's been a prison officer for about fifteen years, your guess is as good as mine," replied George.
"And what am I supposed to say to Karen Betts?" Asked Jo in disgust, "That there's really no point continuing with this case because Fenner's covered his tracks far too successfully?"
"Do some more digging," Said George calmly, "You never know what you might find."
"This has to get to court," Insisted Jo. "You didn't see her, George, someone usually so strong and controlled, ripped apart by having to describe something that wasn't her fault."
"No," Replied George, still with an air of calm detachment about her, "But I did read your transcript."
"It's hardly the same." Walking over to where Jo was sitting, George plucked the file from her hands. Returning to the sofa, she removed the transcript and briefly ran her eyes over it again.
"Why did you type this out yourself, instead of giving your secretary some work to do?"
"Is it that obvious?" George theatrically rolled her eyes at Jo, holding out the document and pointing to a particular paragraph.
"Considering that you've noted changes in facial expression and the lighting of cigarettes, yes it is."
"It felt like the right thing to do," Replied Jo, somehow knowing that George was going to jump on this admission.
"Why?" George was relentless in her probing.
"I didn't think it was right that some random stranger should hear just how difficult it was for her to say all that she did." Lighting another cigarette, George stared contemplatively at the Monet, using its very subdued beauty to marshall her thoughts.
"Can I make an observation?" She asked after a short silence.
"Would it make the slightest difference if I said no?"
"Not really. I think you're in serious danger of getting too close to this case. Whilst cold, ruthless detachment would be virtually impossible with a situation like this, the type of emotional involvement you are already displaying, won't do you or Karen Betts any favours."
"That's rich," Said Jo without thinking, "Emotional involvement isn't exactly something you could ever be accused of, is it." Immediately these words had been uttered, Jo could have kicked herself. Even with George, that had been going a little too far. She caught the brief flash of hurt in George's eyes, which was soon replaced by the closing down of all the shutters. Instead of promptly responding to such a remark, George breathed slowly through her nose, clearly willing something inside her not to crack.
"No," She said eventually, "It's not." When Jo made a move to speak, George interrupted her. "Why do you think I only usually prosecute and defend companies?"
"The enormous bill you can send them afterwards?" George grinned fleetingly.
"That too," She said, before becoming serious again. "It's utterly impossible to become emotionally involved with a company. Nothing that only really exists on paper has feelings. I can't get attached to it, I can't have feelings for it, and therefore the only ways it can hurt me are either professional or financial. Except for when I've had political pressure put on me to either win or lose a case, it ultimately doesn't matter whether I'm successful or not." Then, seeing Jo's look of incredulity, she said, "It does matter in that I'm a terrible loser, and I won't ever go down quietly or without a fight. But if some large insurance company ends up having to pay a fine that might cripple them, I don't end up feeling guilty because I've failed them. If you can't get a conviction for James Fenner, you'll feel like it was your fault, you'll feel like you've failed." Jo simply looked back at her.
"How can you do it, George? How can you stay so detached knowing everything you do."
"It's as you said," Replied George succinctly, "I haven't seen what it took for her to tell you all this. Somehow, it got to you more than cases usually do. I'm not sure why, maybe it's because you already knew her and were aware of most of what happened as a result of the rape."
"You may be right," Said Jo, "but it's not going to stop me working this case as it should have been a long time ago."
"No, I know," Replied George, "All I'm saying is, be careful." A while later when Jo left, George stood on the doorstep and watched her drive away. Never mind Karen Betts, George wasn't all that optimistic that Jo wouldn't come out of this without a few emotional scars of her own.
Jo felt drained. It was almost seven thirty in the evening, and she was still at her desk. This wasn't anything especially out of the ordinary, but today hadn't been an ordinary day. Karen Betts should have been just another case, just another job. but there was far more to it than that. Having first got to know her as a major prosecution witness during the Merriman/Atkins trial, she was now learning more and more about this woman, in an effort to bring another case to court, this time one that directly reflected on Karen. In transcribing the conversation she'd had with her, Jo was perfectly well aware that she was committing the cardinal sin of becoming too emotionally involved with the case. But she couldn't help it. She'd sat here, and watched Karen completely unravel before her eyes, like a jumper whose thread has been pulled once too often. What was she supposed to do, remain aloof, cold, as if Karen's pain hadn't affected her in the slightest. She could almost hear John's voice in her head telling her that yes, to a certain extent, this is what she should do. She'd written down every word of that interview, noted every alteration in tone of voice and facial expression. She'd even recorded the lighting of cigarettes and the exact moment Karen had begun to cry. Jo explained this to herself by thinking that she needed to be able to assess which points of the possible testimony would be most stressful to Karen, and which would therefore leave her open and vulnerable to some cutthroat defense barrister. This was stupid, she eventually thought. She'd been going over and over this for too much of the day. In between every other person she'd seen, she'd continuously revisited the conversation in her head, analysing and deconstructing, trying to decide whether they really would have a case. Picking up the phone, she dialled George's number.
"George, it's Jo, are you busy?"
"Nothing that can't wait. Why?"
"Karen Betts came to see me today, to start putting a case together against James Fenner."
"About bloody time," Was George's firm response. "Do you think you've got a case?"
"I'm not sure. Can I borrow the files you've got on Fenner?"
"Of course. I'd quite like to get them out of the house."
"Are they that bad?"
"Not nice is certainly an understatement. Do you need a sounding board?" Slightly wondering where George's sensitivity and intuition had suddenly come from, Jo said,
"It probably wouldn't do me any harm." George having given her directions, Jo switched off her computer, collected both the transcript of her interview with Karen and Helen Stewart's report, and walked out to her car.
She was intrigued at the thought of seeing George's house. What you can't tell about a person after seeing inside their house just isn't worth knowing. It would also be interesting to see where John had spent a few years of his life, supposedly committed to one woman. when she drew up in George's drive, Jo also wondered if after five days, the black-eye had gone. She walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. When George appeared, she was wearing a pair of black jeans and a white silk blouse. Jo had never seen her so casually dressed before, and briefly thought it suited her.
"I do dress down occasionally, you know," Mocked George as she led her towards the lounge. Jo was impressed. She couldn't help but be impressed. The room they were in stretched from the front of the house to the back, with a large bay window at the front and French windows leading out to the garden at the back. along the far wall opposite the door, was a lovely stone fireplace clearly meant for an open fire. On the wall to the right of the fireplace, though some distance between it and the French windows, was an exquisite baby grand. There was a small TV in one corner, and a cabinet clearly holding a stereo in another. There was an enormous sofa opposite the fireplace with a coffee table in front of it, and numerous armchairs dotted here and there. Jo also noticed a Stubs hanging above the piano and a beautiful but very understated painting of a bowl of lilies over the fireplace. Observing Jo glancing at it, George said,
"John always said he married me for my Monet." Jo laughed, some of the day's tension finally beginning to leave her. "Would you like a drink?" George asked.
"Yes please, I need one after today." After pouring Jo a scotch and herself a gin and tonic, George sat on the sofa and Jo sank gratefully in to an armchair, feeling so exhausted that she thought she might not get up again.
"So," Said George, lighting a cigarette. "Why don't you think you'll make a case out of it?"
"Do you remember the day when we recalled Karen and Fenner to the stand?"
"Vividly," George said drily. "Why?"
"At the end of the morning session, you said that you thought Karen Betts had slept with Ritchie Atkins because she needed to punish herself for not having been able to stop Fenner doing what he did to her."
"That's incredibly insightful for me, I must have been having an off day." Jo's eyes flickered with the hint of a smile.
"I think it goes deeper than that," She said, helping herself to one of George's cigarettes. "After what I heard this morning, I'd bet that Stubs that she went looking for a bit of rough from Ritchie Atkins, because she needed some proof, some evidence that she actually had been raped by Fenner. I think she felt mentally and emotionally raped, but needed the physical action from Ritchie to go with it."
"If she doesn't believe it herself, you've got no chance of getting her to convince a jury."
"I might be wrong, but I think she feels that it was all she deserved." At George's raised eyebrow, Jo handed over the file she'd brought with her. Inside, was the audiotranscription of their conversation that morning, Helen Stewart's report of sexual assault and Karen's initial statement to the police. George began to read. Jo watched her, looking out for any reaction. George hadn't been reading long when she looked up and stared at Jo slightly wide-eyed.
"Charm personified?" Asked Jo, referring to how Karen had described Fenner.
"Yes," Drawled George. "That description is a little too close for comfort." Jo couldn't have put it better herself. The fact that, in describing her first impression of Fenner, Karen had unwittingly given a perfect summing up of John was bizarre to say the least. A little further on, George asked,
"Who's Tessa Spall?"
"I vaguely remembered the case when Karen mentioned her, but I looked it up after she left. Tessa Spall was given life for dismembering her sister, and then savagely attacked a prison officer." George grimaced.
"Now I know why I don't normally do criminal work," She said, returning to the story. Jo's gaze was fixed on George as she continued reading, observing every roll of the eyes, every intake of breath, every wince. Apart from the turning of the pages, George was utterly still. But her face betrayed every involuntary reaction to what she was reading. When she'd finished with the transcript, she moved on to Helen Stewart's report of sexual assault and briefly ran her eyes over Karen's police statement.
"There's an awful lot of pieces missing from this jigsaw," She said eventually.
"I know, but I didn't think today was quite the right time to start digging."
"Fill me in on what she said about Grayling warning her off."
"When the threat of Fenner sending the pictures of her to the press didn't work, Neil Grayling told Karen that he had talked to someone from the CPS who'd said that they weren't going to take up the case. At the time, Karen had no reason not to believe him. On the day when Karen was first in the witness box, Brian Cantwell brought up the issue of the supposedly fake rape allegation. After court, John talked to Karen, and they managed to establish that the contact Grayling said he had at the CPS, didn't exist. John is fairly sure that the person Neil Grayling was in touch with, was Sir Ian Rochester. Let's face it, a prison officer being tried for rape wouldn't exactly put the prison service in a good light, now would it."
"This just gets more corrupt by the minute!" Said George, clearly furious. She got up and refilled their glasses.
"I think whatever you managed to dig up on Fenner might help to fill in some of the gaps," Said Jo. George went to her office at the other side of the house, and returned carrying a folder simply baring Fenner's name. After handing it to Jo, it was George's turn to watch as the other woman read some of the horrors of this case.
On opening the file, Jo was first presented with a report on the suicide of a girl named Rachel Hicks. It simply documented that this nineteen-year-old girl was found hanged in her cell at first unlock, and that the day before she killed herself, she had trashed her cell, and had been moved off the enhanced regime as punishment. It had been assumed by Helen Stewart and James Fenner, that this was all a response to Rachel's mother having put Rachel's ten-month-old daughter in to care.
"Why do you think Fenner was involved with Rachel Hicks?" Asked Jo, having given the document the cross-examination that came naturally to her.
"I don't have all the answers for that one," Said George, "It was simply given to me when I asked for everything connected to James Fenner's time at Larkhall prison. That one's probably the one that needs the most digging." Jo was next confronted by a report of an alleged assault on Michelle Dockley by Principal Officer James Fenner. Both Karen Betts as accompanying officer and Helen Stewart as wing governor had written reports on the alleged incident. The inmate, Shell Dockley, had presented with injuries consistent with having been beaten up, and had alleged that James Fenner had done this to her. During her interview with Helen Stewart, Dockley had also stated that Fenner had been forcing her to have sex with him, and that he had also done this with Rachel Hicks. The police did some preliminary investigation in to the matter, but before they could make up their minds, Dockley withdrew her allegation.
"Karen thinks someone smuggled in a letter from him," Added Jo.
"I used to think the LCD was the most corrupt institution I'd ever come across," Observed George, "But now I'm beginning to wonder." The next thing involving Dockley, was the report of the stabbing. As the resident prison service professional at the time, Helen Stewart had conducted a thorough investigation, concluding that Dockley had intended to stab Fenner, no matter what and that as far as she could deduce, he hadn't been doing anything untoward by being inside her cell.
"Bet she kicked herself for that," Said Jo drily.
"Hindsight's a wonderful thing," Replied George, lighting another cigarette. Reaching over for Helen Stewart's report of sexual assault which George had laid down on the sofa, Jo slotted it in to it's rightful place datewise. Pulling out the next sheaf of papers, Jo whistled.
"I take it that's the one about the escape," Deduced George. Jo read in stunned silence.
"It says here that Fenner was suspected of providing Michelle Dockley and Daniella Blood with the means to abscond, and that when questioned, he became extremely overwrought, possibly displaying the type of violence that could have resulted in the previously alleged assault on Shell Dockley."
"They were looking at him bloody closely," Confirmed George, "They just couldn't prove anything."
"This would be dynamite with a jury if it could be verified. Where the hell did you get all this?" George smirked.
"Look at the author of that last report, the one about Fenner's dose of the third degree. Mrs. Alison Warner, was once a client of mine. Before working for area management, she used to be fairly high up in one of the major credit agencies. I only just managed to save her neck from an enormous fine for violation of the Data Protection Act. It was a good time to call in the favour she owed me, because she was able to give me area management's files on not just Fenner, but most of your witnesses." Jo stared at her.
"You've got absolutely no scruples, have you?"
"There was a lot riding on that case," Said George, her face clouding over. Jo's gaze briefly moved to where there was now only the faintest mark of the healed cut and a slight darkening of the skin to indicate a recently departed bruise. Jo found herself lost for what to say. "I'm okay, really," Said George, correctly interpreting Jo's unspoken question. "It's quite odd having the house to myself again, but I'll get used to it." Turning back to the seemingly endless Fenner file, Jo then extracted possibly the only report putting Fenner in anything resembling a positive light. this document, which almost looked out of place amongst the others, stated that Fenner, with the help of Yvonne Atkins, had uncovered the true killers of Virginia O'Kane, a former prostitute and owner of numerous massage parlours, who had been murdered inside the prison. At the time, it had been assumed that Yvonne Atkins was the culprit. This had been further enhanced by an attempt to abscond by Yvonne Atkins, foiled by James Fenner and Karen Betts. some time after this, Fenner and Atkins had gone to Grayling, the newly arrived governing governor, with the story and the proof that Atkins was innocent.
"Now why would he do a thing like that?" Asked Jo. "He loathes Yvonne, at least that's how it's always appeared."
"Oh, there'd be a reason," Remarked George, sarcasm dripping from every pore. "Perhaps Yvonne could tell you." George handed over the copies of Karen's police statement and the transcript, which Jo slotted in to the back of the file. then Jo seemed to remember something.
"When you were cross-examining Fenner the first time round, you mentioned someone else, someone called Maxine Purvis. Why?"
"I wondered when you'd remember her," Observed George, clearly enjoying the amount of knowledge she had to impart. "Alison Warner wasn't the only person I contacted. Old clients do come in very useful sometimes. Monica Lindsay was convicted of fraud, and spent about nine months at Larkhall, on the same wing where James Fenner was then and is now working. I passed her case on to someone else when it became a criminal rather than a civil case. I wasn't very hopeful that she would be able to supply me with anything useful, as her incarceration was some time ago and she wasn't there for long. But I underestimated how strong friendships made on the inside are. She still has regular contact with two former prostitutes who are still serving time there now. In one of their numerous phonecalls to her, they had talked a lot about Fenner, especially about his sleeping with various inmates. His most recent acquisition before the Snowball Merriman fiasco was Maxine Purvis." Jo began looking through the reports on Fenner, knowing she'd seen that name somewhere. When she found what she was looking for, she stared slightly goggle-eyed at George.
"It says here that Maxine Purvis was one of Virginia O'Kane's killers."
"Yes, and I think you'll find that if you ask Karen Betts about the pair of knickers that were left in her in-tray, you'll discover that they belonged to none other than Maxine Purvis."
"Jesus," Said Jo, "This just gets more complicated by the minute."
"He's been able to get away with everything so far, because Rachel Hicks killed herself, Helen Stewart left, though we don't know why, Michelle Dockley is currently languishing in Ashmore secure psychiatric hospital, and Maxine Purvis also killed herself. If he relies on the fact that area management won't look in to things too deeply, which is exactly what they've done, it's Karen's word against his. With absolutely no physical evidence and his other four victims that we know about either dead, departed or doped up to the eyeballs, I'd say you've got about as much chance of getting this to court, as I had of getting Merriman and Atkins found not guilty."
"He can not be allowed to get away with this," Said Jo furiously. "We've got only half the story so far, and already we've identified five probable victims of his unwanted attention. How many more are there?"
"Considering that he's been a prison officer for about fifteen years, your guess is as good as mine," replied George.
"And what am I supposed to say to Karen Betts?" Asked Jo in disgust, "That there's really no point continuing with this case because Fenner's covered his tracks far too successfully?"
"Do some more digging," Said George calmly, "You never know what you might find."
"This has to get to court," Insisted Jo. "You didn't see her, George, someone usually so strong and controlled, ripped apart by having to describe something that wasn't her fault."
"No," Replied George, still with an air of calm detachment about her, "But I did read your transcript."
"It's hardly the same." Walking over to where Jo was sitting, George plucked the file from her hands. Returning to the sofa, she removed the transcript and briefly ran her eyes over it again.
"Why did you type this out yourself, instead of giving your secretary some work to do?"
"Is it that obvious?" George theatrically rolled her eyes at Jo, holding out the document and pointing to a particular paragraph.
"Considering that you've noted changes in facial expression and the lighting of cigarettes, yes it is."
"It felt like the right thing to do," Replied Jo, somehow knowing that George was going to jump on this admission.
"Why?" George was relentless in her probing.
"I didn't think it was right that some random stranger should hear just how difficult it was for her to say all that she did." Lighting another cigarette, George stared contemplatively at the Monet, using its very subdued beauty to marshall her thoughts.
"Can I make an observation?" She asked after a short silence.
"Would it make the slightest difference if I said no?"
"Not really. I think you're in serious danger of getting too close to this case. Whilst cold, ruthless detachment would be virtually impossible with a situation like this, the type of emotional involvement you are already displaying, won't do you or Karen Betts any favours."
"That's rich," Said Jo without thinking, "Emotional involvement isn't exactly something you could ever be accused of, is it." Immediately these words had been uttered, Jo could have kicked herself. Even with George, that had been going a little too far. She caught the brief flash of hurt in George's eyes, which was soon replaced by the closing down of all the shutters. Instead of promptly responding to such a remark, George breathed slowly through her nose, clearly willing something inside her not to crack.
"No," She said eventually, "It's not." When Jo made a move to speak, George interrupted her. "Why do you think I only usually prosecute and defend companies?"
"The enormous bill you can send them afterwards?" George grinned fleetingly.
"That too," She said, before becoming serious again. "It's utterly impossible to become emotionally involved with a company. Nothing that only really exists on paper has feelings. I can't get attached to it, I can't have feelings for it, and therefore the only ways it can hurt me are either professional or financial. Except for when I've had political pressure put on me to either win or lose a case, it ultimately doesn't matter whether I'm successful or not." Then, seeing Jo's look of incredulity, she said, "It does matter in that I'm a terrible loser, and I won't ever go down quietly or without a fight. But if some large insurance company ends up having to pay a fine that might cripple them, I don't end up feeling guilty because I've failed them. If you can't get a conviction for James Fenner, you'll feel like it was your fault, you'll feel like you've failed." Jo simply looked back at her.
"How can you do it, George? How can you stay so detached knowing everything you do."
"It's as you said," Replied George succinctly, "I haven't seen what it took for her to tell you all this. Somehow, it got to you more than cases usually do. I'm not sure why, maybe it's because you already knew her and were aware of most of what happened as a result of the rape."
"You may be right," Said Jo, "but it's not going to stop me working this case as it should have been a long time ago."
"No, I know," Replied George, "All I'm saying is, be careful." A while later when Jo left, George stood on the doorstep and watched her drive away. Never mind Karen Betts, George wasn't all that optimistic that Jo wouldn't come out of this without a few emotional scars of her own.