Closure: Cold In The Earth. Thorne Moore
When I write crime fiction (and I do also write historical and science fiction), it is always the long-term causes and consequences of a crime that interests me, rather than detection and solution. I never believe that a crime as serious as murder comes to a happy ending once the murderer is identified and brought to justice. Closure is far too neat and comfortable a word, so my crimes inevitable leave an indelible mark on the survivors and even into later generations.
In my latest book, Cold In The Earth, there are crimes – very distressing ones, murders of young girls – but once an investigation gets properly underway, the culprit is easily caught. In a sense, though, he is of no real importance. The continuing nightmare for the parents, siblings, friends and detectives is the fact that the bodies have not been found.
There have been many similar cases, which are painfully well-known. Madeleine McCann, taken in 2007. Keith Bennett in 1964, one of the victims of the Moors murderers. Suzy Lamplugh in 1986, almost certainly murdered by John Cannan. Mary Bastholme, 1968, strongly believed to be a victim on Fred and Rose West. Muriel McKay was kidnapped in 1969, a pathetic case of mistaken identity, and never found. Her case was the subject of a recent radio documentary called Worse Than Murder, which sums up the issue. A murder of a relative is awful, but the failure to find the body is an added agony that may never end. It’s a lesson that justice is not necessarily about conviction and punishment, but about truth.
This is an extract from Cold In The Earth, the conclusion to the first part dated 1996, where, according to the law, the case is solved and put to bed. But not for the survivors.
* * *
Superintendent Lake waited for the team to settle before turning to face them, pivoting on his stork legs. “You’ve done a thorough job. All leads followed. All evidence secured and analysed. The pattern is there for all to see.”
His back was to a map on the wall, a map they all knew in minute detail, red flags indicating such a clear and obvious pattern, now they knew. Too obvious for anyone to doubt his guilt in every case, and yet…
Lake paused, staring down at papers, then he looked back up at his audience. “Conclusion seems clear that he was responsible for the abduction and murder of four girls in this area. Four girls of similar age, similar appearance. Another girl, Bethany Davies, was a likely fifth victim, in South Wales, 1990. South Wales police now concur. We have missing years. Gittings worked as delivery driver in Essex ’91 to ’92. That’s an eighteen-month gap before he arrived in Welsey. But no concrete evidence to go on, so we concentrate on our own cases here. DNA and other forensic tests are now complete. The blood in Gittings’ van has been confirmed as that of Laura Wakefield. The two hairs caught in his seatbelt are a match to Jodie Fitzpatrick, and the gym shoe found in an oil drum at Gittings’ old garage off Millfield Road has now been positively identified as that of Rachel Redbourn. Her initials are legible inside. RR.
“The Crown Prosecution Service is satisfied that, despite the absence of bodies, the murders of Jodie Fitzpatrick and Rachel Redbourn can be added to the charges. Regrettably, no other remains have been found and…” He waited for the mutters of irritation and anger to subside. “There is no forensic evidence to support our supposition that Gittings was also responsible for the disappearance of Ashley Knowles and Bethany Davies, which means they will not be included on the charge sheet.” The mutterings rose again.
“I appreciate you are disappointed, but the CPS considers the evidence against Gittings for three murders is sufficient to ensure he’s locked up for the foreseeable future. I want to thank you all for your energetic and determined dedication in this case. Had we been able to find Gittings’ written account of his crimes, which we have strong reason to believe he kept, we might have been able to add two and maybe more murders to the charges, but we must be content with three.”
Content? Malcolm returned to his desk with a sigh. He was never going to be content with this conclusion. Neither were the parents. And what was he to say to Sharon Knowles and Bryn Davies, when he informed them that their girls would not even be named as victims? And their bodies never found. He looked at the five photos he’d taken down from his board. He’d left a space between Bethany Davies and Ashley Knowles because, evidence or no evidence, he was convinced there must have been a sixth victim in Essex. Six little girls with their own characters, thoughts, hopes, potential. Six girls who should have gone on to live normal, happy lives and five of them couldn’t even be buried decently. It shouldn’t end like this.
And yet it probably would.
Crime Cymru 