All Passion Spent - Bergotte (pdf e book reader .txt) 📗

all sat down together. Both detectives showed their warrant cards and then Gerrard began the questioning.
“You are Phillip Dickinson?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve come to talk to you about the events of Saturday night. Can you tell us where you were and what you were doing?”
“On Saturday night I’m driving down North Road to Bath City on to the Lower Bristol road, out towards Keynsham.”
“What’s the purpose of your journey?” asked Gerrard maintaining the present tense of his interviewee. “Look, I have a phone call from someone and go and see them at short notice.”
“Shouldn’t you drive straight down the road, Bathwick Hill and turn left past the magistrates court. Why go down North Road?”
“Look,” said Dickinson for the third time, “my girlfriend Lynne, here, and her mother live on Bathwick Hill. Either one of them might see me going out and think I’m with someone else but I’m on a business trip. Right?”
“Right,” said Anna joining in the fun.
“So it’s down North Road to the city… avoids any hassle,” continued Phil.
“And what car are you driving?” asked Gerrard.
“I drive a Subaru Impreza Sti Type RA-S. S.350 bhp metallic green.”
“Not bright yellow?”
“No.”
“And you are definitely driving it on early Saturday evening last?”
“Yes.”
“What time precisely are you driving it on Saturday night?”
“Set off from here about 7.30 I should think.”
“You hit someone.”
“Yes.”
“Where did this incident take place?”
“On the main road outside Sydney Gardens. It was an accident though.” In his agitated state he forgot to speak in the present tense
“What was the cause of the accident?”
“I suddenly see this woman standing in the middle of the road. One second the road is clear the next she’s there. I swerved to avoid her.”
“But you didn’t avoid her?”
“No, but I didn’t hit her full on, it was a glancing blow.”
“Enough to throw her to the other side of the road.”
“Was it that bad?”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“You didn’t stop?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d had a couple of drinks. I wasn’t supposed to be going out.”
“Well, the person you hit is now dead, and you may be held responsible.”
Dickinson sat in silence, his head in his hands, numb with shock, lost for words. Eventually he uttered one disbelieving word, “Dead?”

“Yes, she died on Saturday night, but whether it was the result of her injuries or not we don’t yet know,” said Gerrard
“Where is your car now, Mr Dickinson?” asked Anna.
He seemed unable to speak, still overcome with the news of the enormity of what had taken place.
“Am I right in thinking,” asked Gerrard softly, “that the car you drive is not your own?”
“No, it’s the garage’s car – the firm I work for.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a car salesman.”

“And where is the car now?” “At the garage, where I work, being repaired. The boss was furious when he found out what I’d done. It’s being repaired now, in fact. I haven’t been into work this week after taking it in on Monday. I’m due to go in tomorrow; Lynne will drive me.” Dickinson was a little more composed now. Having to answer questions and face up to what he had done seemed to have settled his nerves.
“You will have to come with us for further questioning and to make a written statement. Whether or not you are responsible for the woman’s death or not, from what you have told us so far, you still face charges concerning the fact that you didn’t stop at the scene of an accident when someone has been injured. So get your coat please.”

The two detectives escorted the hit and run driver to their waiting police car and drove back to the police station, leaving the bewildered Lynne standing on the doorstep. “I’ll come and see you in an hour or so at the police station,” she called after him, but he made no reply.

Later that day Dickinson entered the police station accompanied by the two detectives. In the interview room Gerrard went over the familiar ground once again, but this time it was all written down in a formal statement. “I hit the woman and did not stop. I was in a hurry. However, when I realised what I had done I turned up Bathwick Hill and went home.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“Yes, a neighbour.”
“You will be charged for the offences of reckless driving and failing to stop at an accident when someone is injured.”
“I understand.” “Charge him, please Sergeant Rossi,” said Gerrard.
“Yes sir.”
When Dickinson had left the building Gerrard found Anna and said, “He will appear before the magistrate in the morning. I see no reason for opposing bail.”
“No sir,” she replied, “we now need to find our murderer.”

On Wednesday afternoon, two teenagers were meeting at Bath Spa railway station. They were an ill-assorted pair as they walked along the canal towpath together. The girl, Samantha Bennett, was quite fashionably, though not expensively dressed. The youth with her was very ragged and extremely dishevelled. He wore faded denim jeans, a torn sweatshirt and a woolly hat, together with a dirty woollen pullover that was full of holes. On his feet he had a pair of filthy trainers, almost totally worn down at the heels. His very unkempt hair had obviously remained unwashed for many weeks. As soon as she had seen him emerging into the station courtyard her face had lit up with a radiant smile. “Hi, Tommy,” she had called to him, “it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I’ve really missed you.” His careworn face had managed a weak smile in return. He had put his arms round her waist and had hugged her tightly.

“I got your message on my mobile, Tommy. How did you know my number?”
“I can remember it,” replied the youth.
“And where did you get a mobile phone from? You’re supposed to be a down and out.”
“I found it,” said Tommy.
“Oh really!”
“I’ve got a watch as well. I was wondering whether you could sell it for me,” he said, pulling a lady’s wristwatch from his pocket.
“No, absolutely not, no way.” Her response alarmed him. He avoided looking into her eyes as she started to question him. “You didn’t find them did you? You stole them.” She took the watch from him, and examined it carefully, turning it over and reading the inscription on the back. “It’s inscribed here … to Laura from David.” She held it out, in front of him her anger rising.
“Okay, I stole it and the phone, but I was drunk, out of my head. I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“It’s still not like you to steal stuff like this. Being drunk is no excuse. Why did you do it?”
“I told you… I didn’t know what I was doing. I was hungry, I had no money. I was getting cold. I know it was stupid…” His voice trailed away. “You know,” said Sam, “I haven’t got much money but what I have I can give to you.” “You weren’t here. You were miles away in Bristol…”
“I want you to get back on your feet, Tommy, not be living rough,” she said tenderly, taking hold of his hand, trying to reassure him. “Where are you living now, by the way?”
“In a squat, out Twerton way,” replied Tommy.
“And I bet it’s pretty rough,” rejoined Sam.
“Yes, it is. I got some credit cards as well, by the way, but I haven’t been able to use them so I threw them away.”
“Where did you get them from?”
“I saw a woman lying in the road outside Sydney Gardens. She looked as if she had been injured by a passing car. I picked her up and carried her into some bushes. These things were in her handbag.”

“The lady died. Tommy, you stole them from a dead or dying woman… It was on the news.” At these words the lad looked stupefied. “The police are trying to trace those involved,” she went on. She could see by his vacant look that Tommy was now a very frightened individual as he contemplated the full horror of what had taken place a few days previously.
“I… I didn’t kill her,” he stammered. Sam looked hard into his eyes as she summoned up all her emotional strength. She took a deep breath and sighed. Then she asked what was to her the crucial question.
“Was she still alive when you left her?”
“Yes. She was unconscious, but still alive, I’m pretty sure of it. There was a lot of blood from her head wound, but I made sure none of it got on me.”
“You’re not certain she was alive?”
“No, not a hundred per cent.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
“I’d stolen those things, hadn’t I?”
“So, a woman has died for the sake of a mobile and a watch.”
“I swear to you, I didn’t kill her. I panicked and ran off. I went to a nearby pub and tried to sell the watch, but no one would buy it.”

“That’s hardly surprising is it? It’s not working is it? It must have been broken in the accident, when the lady was knocked down.”
“Yes, I suppose so. What am I going to do?”
“Well, you must go to the police, own up to the robbery and say that you did not kill her,” said Sam.
“No, I can’t… I can’t do that.”
“You must. It’s for your own good in the long run.”
“I’m frightened of them.”
“I know someone in the police. I’ll get in touch with her and explain.”
“I don’t want you to do that.”
“I’m going to anyway, whether you want me to or not. And we’d better get you cleaned up so that you make a better impression on the police and others when the time comes.”
“I’m an adult now, not a kid. I’ll probably be sent to prison.”
“No, you’ve not committed any offence as far as I can see. You’ve no criminal record. You have nothing to worry about. Give me the mobile.” She took it from him as he meekly handed it to her. She put it along with the watch in her shoulder bag. “I’ll make sure they are handed in,” she told him. “If you are honest with the police it will be much better for you.”
“Okay, I’ll do as you say.”
“Let’s get the train now to Bristol. We can walk to my house in Bedminster from Temple Meads. My mother will be out until quite late and my father doesn’t come in from work until about eight o’clock. You can have a shower and I’ll see if I can find you a change of clothes.”
“Thanks, Sam,” replied Tommy, meekly, “I’m very grateful to you. I do love you.”
“And I love you,” said the girl, “but I’m not getting too close to you until you are clean. Let’s go then.” They turned round and made their way back along the canal, crossed over the footbridge which leads to Bath Spa railway station and bought tickets for Bristol. When Anna returned to her desk she found an email on her PC from the mortician at the pathology lab.

Hello Sergeant Rossi
Dr Ray concluded his forensic post-mortem this afternoon. This included a very detailed external examination during which every area of trauma was analysed and recorded. However, Dr Ray was taken ill this afternoon. It was probably brought on by the accompanying vapours when the stomach contents were analysed! He’s just gone home taking