Page 53 of Twisted Lies
Injury – Broken arm… Reason – Tripped over quilt cover.
Injury – Fractured rib and severe bruising to abdomen… Reason – Fell down the stairs.
And the list went on. Every injury had an explanation. Every bite, scratch, cut, punch and kick had been hidden behind a claim of clumsiness, and every explanation had been offered by Trisha herself.
Without a full understanding of the fear and conditioning of domestic abuse, the jury had questioned Trisha’s refusal to seek help, especially when it was made clear that she had been alone in the consulting rooms. The defence had insisted that Trisha had had every opportunity to tell the truth, seek refuge and escape by telling just one doctor who would have alerted the police.
In her opinion, the CPS had done a terrible job in not calling enough experts to explain the thread of fear that bound Trisha to Morley, even when he wasn’t around. And Trisha had seen evidence of his power. He hadn’t been threatening her, he had been threatening her family. For herself she would have taken his wrath, but the car accident involving her sister would have both magnified and cemented the power he held over her.
And that was why his team was focusing on PR for his image. If the jury had struggled to find him guilty before, they had no chance now.
There was a part of Frost that was tempted to approach DI Stone and seek help, but the inspector had made it clear that there was little more they could do, no matter how strongly they felt about the impending injustice. She also knew the woman’s hands were full with her current investigation.
She also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that without any fresh evidence from the CPS, Nick Morley would soon be a free man.
Forty-Two
‘What do you mean empty?’ Kim asked, pouring a coffee from the machine.
‘A bit like Bryant’s wallet when it’s his round at the pub,’ Penn offered.
‘Jesus, that empty?’ Kim asked as Bryant pulled a face.
‘The staff never see anyone go in or out,’ Penn continued, updating them on his visit to the Matrix offices. ‘Parking space is never used. Apparently, there’s a desk and a phone, which is just enough to keep the space. Rent is paid weekly without fail, but receptionists have never met anyone associated with the company.’
‘Post?’
He shook his head. ‘Probably a redirection in place at the Post Office.’
‘Damn,’ Kim seethed. The Post Office was notoriously one of the hardest places to get information from.
Looked like the rest of her day was going to be spent applying for warrants and court orders.
‘Medical records, Stace?’
‘Requested and waiting. Checked on previous cases, but nothing like this is unsolved. I’ve logged a few Google keyword alerts for anything new.’
‘Okay, so it’s almost two and, so far today, we’ve learned a grand total of fuck all?’
Her team nodded miserably.
‘In fact, we know even less than we did yesterday, because now we don’t even think this family are using their real names.’
No one disagreed, and Kim tried to remember any other case that had taken them backwards.
She looked at the whiteboard that was glaringly sparse with information.
‘We know that for whatever reason, someone hated Keith Phipps enough to torture him to death. We know that the rest of his family have fled their entire life, and they were helped by someone with a van that is registered to a company that spends hundreds of thousands of pounds, makes no profit, and has no physical employees.
‘We know that one of the boys was in therapy for something, but that his doctor was never taught how to share.’ She paused. ‘Have I missed anything?’
‘Only the dodgy teaching assistant that took a dislike to you and fled the school.’
‘Hardly ground-breaking that someone didn’t warm to me, but note his name down, Stace, and just do a bit of—’ Kim stopped speaking as wedding bells chimed from Stacey’s phone.
‘What th—?’
‘Google Alert, boss,’ Stacey said, looking sheepish.
