ACC Bishop called later in the day with some news. She told us that she’d managed to get a prominent Journalist to agree to interview me on the understanding that no manipulation of my words would be done post interview. We all felt better for this as despite my former colleague being arrested and charged with numerous offenses, the press seemed to be having a feeding frenzy with my past. Many facts were being reported about me, most of which were simply fiction. This made me angry. Mary did her best to calm me down and tell me that my side of the story would be told in due course.

The she asked,
“Did Sergeant Pratt go anywhere in the house apart from the hallway after you dialled ‘999’?”

“No Ma’am. I made sure that no one went anywhere else. I didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene.”

“Thank you very much, Tamara. That is very interesting. In that case, it is very likely that Sergeant Pratt is probably going to be charged with murder or at very least accessory to Murder. You may well be called on to make an additional statement to that effect.”

I couldn’t get any more out of her at that point in time. Something was going on but I could not put my finger on it.

It was Max who gave us the whole story a few hours later.
“After a lot of searching, the van that was used to transport you away from your home was found in a lockup in St Albans. The lockup was being rented in Ian Pratt’s name. CCTV showed him driving the van at only one place between your flat and St Albans. Being a Police Officer obviously helped them know where all the CCTV and ANPR cameras are located. Once at the Lockup, you were transferred to a smaller van. We found that van parked in the garage where you were held captive. We found a hood with your DNA and the DNA of five other victims on it in the back. SOCO found both Ian Pratt and Dan Carpenter’s fingerprints in both vans.”

“So, they were in it together?”

“It seems that way. SOCO also found his prints on several of the ‘trophy jars’.”

“But… but why didn’t he recognise me in Finchley?”

“The only thing that we can think of is that you were kept hooded all the time and that Mr Carpenter was the one who tasered you, and it looks like Sergeant Pratt just did the driving.”

I sat for a while thinking… ‘if only I hadn’t jumped on the first tube train…’.

I was in a bit of a fug for several more days despite everyone’s best efforts.

The final straw for me to start reacting was a story about a so-called girlfriend of mine from school in Nottingham. The woman in question was telling the world that her daughter was mine and that I’d bedded her after the ‘prom’. I’d never even gone to the stupid thing let alone had sex with her. Mary consoled me with the fact that I’d get my say the following day when we met with the journalist.

Max sent a driver to take me to the meeting with the journalist. This was to take place on or close the beach at Seaford in Sussex. Thankfully, the day was warm and dry. The driver took me to Lewes where we met Max and new face.

“Tamara, this is Mark Lewis. He’s a lawyer. He will make sure that the record of the interview is recorded and faithfully reprinted in the paper tomorrow. I have a signed contract with the paper that your words won’t be negatively edited or extraneous facts introduced. This is all about facts and getting your side of the story into the press.”

I shook his hand.

“Pleased to meet you Mr Lewis.”

“Likewise.”

He smiled at me and said quietly.

“I have a number of clients like you so please don’t think of me as an enemy.”

I felt relieved at this. The last thing I wanted was a lawyer who didn’t understand what I was going through.

I got in the car with him after Max explained that the journalist was being ferried to the interview by helicopter. This was so we could be sure that he was not followed by half a dozen photographers with very long lenses and parabolic microphones.

I’d made it clear that this was to be a one on one interview right from the outset. Mr Lewis was strictly there as a referee but, the rest of the media would be out for blood if they knew where I was going to be.

I returned to the house almost four hours later exhausted from the session. I’d put over my story in a way that I’d hoped would stop the more sensational stories from coming out. I’d made it clear that I was not the father of any child and that I’d be more than willing to take a DNA test to prove that point. I’d also said that false allegations like that were libel and that damages would be sought from all parties concerned.

Max grilled Mark about the interview and pronounced himself satisfied with the result. Mark gave Max the tape of the interview and was taken back to London by the driver who’d collected me from the Hamilton’s home that morning.

Once they’d gone, Max asked me,

“Are you sure that you want to take that DNA test?” he asked referring to the claim that I was the father of a child from my time in Nottingham.

“Absolutely. That’s why I said that very thing to the journalist.”

I looked him in the eye before adding,

“Before Mary and I had sex, I was a virgin but naturally no one else needs to know that.”

He laughed and a big grin appeared on his face.

“I think I can keep that kind of secret but if it goes to trial then you may have to testify to that very fact.”

He thought for a second or two.

“However, let me make a few calls and line up a company to do the testing. That way we can put the pressure on the other side over this. If we put them on the defensive then they might just fold their hand.”

“Mark suggested that I sue for defamation. I’ve had a think about it and I have decided that I want to go ahead with that. Those liars need to be taken down a peg or two. It would not surprise me if they were being paid a lot of money by a newspaper or other media company. The lies about my fathering a child, are just beyond the pale. I want to fight back. I want them and the people behind it to pay dearly for this. I want every last penny they received from the press and damages from the papers and the editors. I’ll make it clear that I’m giving it to charity but they need to know that printing lies without even cursory fact checking is not the way to run a business.”

“Good for you,” replied Max with a rare grin on his face.

“But I want to keep Mary out of this as much as possible. She has a son in Northern Ireland and I really don’t want him involved if at all possible.”

“I get the message. I’ll put a few of my guys onto it. If the media start taking an interest, we may have to move him. I take it Caitlin still has custody.”

Hearing her proper name for the first time in more than two months brought me back to reality with a bang.

“Yes. Yes, she does.”

“Good then I’ll get the paperwork sorted out. We don’t want the PSNI[1] to get all uppity and talk about charging my guys with kidnapping now do we?”

I had to agree with that.

“If you are ready, then I think we should be getting back to Cranleigh?”

“Yes, we should.”

We all looked anxiously for the reports in the following days papers. The other dailies seemed to have gotten wind of my interview and had considerably reduced the level of scandal being reported.

My interview was as promised printed in full with minimal editing and only to emphasise the context. I felt relieved that at last my story had been told honestly.

The so-called mother of my child was served with a writ later that day as were the editors of the three daily newspapers that had carried the story on their front pages.

Almost immediately the coverage of my part of the case was greatly reduced. The appearance of Ian Pratt and Dan Carpenter in court to answer their charges also helped to divert the attention of the media away from me. Their appearance in court also made the case ‘sub-judice’ and the Judge had not lifted reporting restrictions. That severely limited what could be reported in the mainstream media.

The pair were once again remanded in custody until a later date when he would be committed for trial. Max reported that the latest information coming from the CPS was that Ian Pratt was going to plead ‘Not Guilty by reason of mental deficiency’. We all knew he was mad but we all felt slightly cheated by this attempt to escape justice. He was mad but not that mad.

Mary and I moved back to our place in Finchley and tried to get some order back into our life now that the press had been calmed down.

On our first evening there, I sat Mary down and began to lay out my thoughts.

“Going into work every day and being treated as a woman and not as a man in a dress was… well, nice. As time went by, I realised that would probably not happen if I remained a Police Officer.”

Mary took hold of my hand.

“I guessed as much. As I got to know you I felt that you going back to work as a female DC was going to be even more of a problem that I’d imagined.”

I gave her a little peck on the lips.

“If you want me to recant on my acceptance of your proposal then I will. I have to be unselfish. For years, I have thought of no one but myself. Then I fell in love with you. I can’t ask you to change everything like I can. You have a son to think about.”

Mary looked me right in the eyes.

“There are times when I wish I’d never had Liam. Thankfully, they are few and far between. I’m his mother but I know that I’ve not been a very good one. I’ve left him with my parents and got on with my own life. Don’t you think I feel guilty?”

I saw two tears form in her eyes.

“I’m in love with you. For the first time in my life, I’m in love with someone. But why on earth did it have to be you? Isn’t my life complicated enough already.”

One of the tears rolled down her cheek.

“Then, when you went missing, I realised that it didn’t matter, I just wanted to be with you.”

I knew better than to bring up the thorny subject of Liam.

“So, what do we do?” I asked.

“I think we should speak to Max. Perhaps he will have something for an experienced ex Police officer?”

It took a lot of effort not to burst out laughing at her suggestion.

“That might be a good idea. We will also need somewhere to live. My old place is not big enough for the two of us and you were flat sitting. I don’t know how long Max agreed to rent this place for.

Any further discussion was interrupted by my phone going off.

“Hi Max, what’s up?”

“You what? Can you say that again?”

“Well, I never. That is a turn up for the books. I wasn’t expecting that. Thanks for letting us know.”

I was about to hang up when I remembered something.

“Max, how long do we have before we have to move out of here?”

“Ok, that’s good to know. Thanks.”

“Yes, will tomorrow do?”

“Ha-ha. We’ll see you for Lunch.”

I hung up the call with a smile on my face.

“Two bits of good news. Firstly, we have three months before we have to move out of here.”

Mary smiled.

“That’s good. And the second?”

“The crime scene people were going through the phone records of Daniel Carpenter just to see if there was anyone else involved with the murders and they found that he’d been calling the delightful Ian Pratt for a long time. It seems that Ian Pratt and he go back a long way. It seems that Ian Pratt will be facing twelve murder charges rather than the six he currently is. They will be tried together. The CPS has had him examined and three different experts have pronounced him sane and fit to stand trial.”

“Wow! I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me neither. It makes what he did with the press start to make sense. Whatever happens with his trial, those leaks will mean that he’s finished with the Police.”

Mary was quiet.

“I guess that makes three of us then?”

I looked at her right in the eye. I could see a sense of sadness.

“You don’t have to leave you know? You love being a Police Officer.”

“So, do you. Come on admit it!”

“I do but I know that I don’t have a future in the force. How can I with hair this colour? And these?” I replied looking down at my chest.

Mary laughed and kissed me.

“You could change it you know? The hair I mean.”

“I could do that.”

Mary smiled.

“But you like it don’t you?”

I nodded.

“Do you?”

“I didn’t at first but now? But it grew on me so, yes I do.”

“Then leave as it is then? I don’t think that Sir Richard will object.”

“That is always assuming I take the job that is?”

Mary just grinned back at me as if to say, ‘I know that you will accept and so do you but you just won’t admit it yet’.

[to be continued]

[1]PSNI = Police Service of Northern Ireland

[Authors Note]
The final part of this story will be posted next Monday if I have internet. I'll be somewhere on the Ardnamurchan Peninsula in Western Scotland. I'm staying at a 'Bothy' so it might be that it wll have to wait a few days until I get onto the Island of Mull where the Hotel there does have Internet.
Samantha