When the Evil Waits by M Lee (i want to read a book .txt) 📗

there’s a big “but” coming now.’

‘But, as Daniel was taken into care after an Emergency Protection Order of the Children’s Act, 1989, I had to apply for an interview under Section 44, subsections 6–9.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means we will have to follow the government best evidence guidelines to the letter, including conducting the interview in the Care Home, videotaping the interview, a social worker being present all the time, a written interview plan with questions being presented before it takes place and if Daniel, or the social worker, decide the interview stops, it must end immediately.’

‘Anything else?’ asked Emily.

‘I forgot, they’re only giving you one hour.’

‘Jesus,’ Emily said under her breath.

‘Good, it’s the right way to do it. We’d better start the preparations. Can you operate the video camera, Chrissy?’

She lifted up her damaged arm. ‘This is feeling a lot better since I came back to work.’

‘Good. This could be the most important interview of this case.’

‘There’s one other thing,’ said Chrissy, ‘Turnbull has applied to Claire Trent for an extension to hold Michael Carsley for longer. She has granted him just four hours.’

‘Not twelve hours?’

Chrissy shook her head. ‘He’s not a happy bunny.’

‘Are they going to charge him?’

‘The word on the street is yes, but he hasn’t confessed yet. The extra time is for Turnbull to get his ducks in a row with the CPS. The reporters have caught wind of it and a couple of them are already camped outside Wythenshawe nick.’

‘Molly Wright?’

‘And her photographer.’

‘Once it gets out, the whole place is going to be besieged,’ said Emily.

Chrissy threw another paper down on the table. Irene McMurdo’s pinched face stood out from page three beneath the headline MY CHILD WAS MY LIFE and Molly Wright’s byline.

‘Looks like we need to work quickly,’ said Ridpath, picking up the recording equipment. ‘Before Michael Carsley is hung, drawn and quartered in the pages of the national press.’

Chapter 62

They parked outside Ford Avenue children’s home at 3.45.

For a moment, Ridpath took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around himself and tapping his fingers on either shoulder.

‘Shall we go in?’ asked Emily Parkinson.

‘Just give me a second.’

‘Are you OK?’ Chrissy Wright leant forward from the back seat. ‘I have to go in and set up before we start at five p.m.’

‘I know the time, you don’t have to remind me,’ Ridpath snapped.

‘Hey, you need to calm down, you can’t interview a child in this sort of state,’ said Emily, placing her hand on his arm.

‘I know, I know. Give me a second. You two go in first and set up. I’ll be there in a tick.’

Emily raised her eyebrows at Chrissy, and they both got out of the car, Chrissy extremely gingerly with the cast on her leg. Emily went round to the boot to get the camera and recording gear they had borrowed from Phil Reynolds.

Ridpath sat alone for a moment. Why was he so tense about this interview? They normally never worried him. There was a pattern for questioning co-operating witnesses they had all learnt years ago.

Establish rapport.

Ask the interviewee to explain the event in their own words.

Drill down on the details.

Close the interview and explain the next steps.

Every interview was the same and yet everyone was different. It was exactly as he’d been trained at Edgeley Park, and refined on the job by Charlie Whitworth.

And Charlie was the best interviewer in the business.

So why did this one feel different? Was it because it was a child? The same procedures were in play whoever was interviewed. Obviously with children and vulnerable adults, you had to be far more careful with language and the way questions were framed, but the procedures were still the same.

Establish rapport.

Ask the interviewee to explain the event in their own words.

Drill down on the details.

Close the interview and explain the next steps.

‘Get yourself together, Ridpath.’

He took three deep breaths, filling his diaphragm and then letting the air out through his mouth. He instantly felt warmer, calmer, more controlled. He wished he’d known about these coping techniques far earlier in his career.

‘Time to make it happen,’ he said out loud.

He got out of the car and walked up the path leading to the front door. After being checked in by security and going through the usual Covid-19 precautions, he was led to a large room off the lobby. Here, Chrissy had already set up and Emily Parkinson was sat next to a tall woman with short hair and a black leather jacket.

She held out her hand. ‘I’m the social worker, Ruby Grimes.’

‘DI Ridpath from GMP. I presume you’ve already met my colleagues.’

‘Actually, I know Ruby socially, Ridpath, we’ve met a few times.’

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask more details, but he guessed this was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out the interview plan he had written with Emily that afternoon.

Ruby Grimes flicked through it, taking in the details. ‘I can keep this for our files?’

‘Of course.’

‘And who will be leading the interview today?’

‘Emily… DS Parkinson will lead as she has already established a rapport with Daniel. I will jump in occasionally when needed. Chrissy is here to operate the camera and the recorder.’

‘Good. I don’t have to remind you of the ground rules. If Daniel wants to stop the interview, it will cease immediately. Or if I feel Daniel is being put under too much stress, I will call a halt. Understood?’

‘Agreed. What’s his demeanour been like since coming to the home?’

‘Not good, I’m afraid. He’s fluctuating between being totally uncommunicative to shouting and swearing that he wants to go home.’

‘Not the best time to interview him.’

‘No, the circumstances of being separated from his father have not been good for him.’

‘What about the mother?’

‘We assessed her living environment and decided it would not be a safe place to put a vulnerable child. We asked Daniel and he was vehement that he didn’t want to live with her.’

‘Why?’

‘He didn’t say and I didn’t ask.’