Where is the computer now?
It was stolen . . . when Daddy got . . . when he died.
The interview switched to the day of Ray Hegarty’s murder. After Danny Gardiner dropped Sienna on a street corner in Bath she waited for Gordon Ellis. He arrived with another man and they made her lie down on the back seat.
What did the other man look like?
I wasn’t supposed to see his face.
But you did.
Yes. He had black tears coming from his eyes.
Tattoos?
Yes.
Do you know his name?
No.
What did Gordon tell you?
Sienna hesitates. Faltering. He said I had to have sex with someone. I asked him why and he said I had to prove how much I loved him.
‘But you know I love you,’ I said.
‘Prove it one more time.’
‘What if I don’t want to?’
‘You’ll do it anyway.’
‘What if he’s ugly?’
‘Close your eyes and think of me.’
Monk asks her about the drive, which took longer than fifteen minutes but less than an hour, according to Sienna. When the car pulled up, Gordon told her to brush her hair and put on fresh make-up. She was wearing her black flapper dress from the musical.
Gordon took me to the door and knocked. A man answered.
What did he look like?
Old - maybe fifty - he had a red face.
What colour hair?
He didn’t have much hair. He offered me a glass of champagne. I made a mistake and told him I was too young. Then I remembered that Gordon had said I wasn’t to tell him my age. ‘How young?’ the man asked. I lied and said I was eighteen.
‘You’re shivering. Are you cold?’
‘No.’
‘Have you done this before?’
‘No.’
Then he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed my dress down my arms. I tried to cover myself, but he said I shouldn’t be ashamed . . .
Sienna began to weep and Monk suspended the interview, announcing the time. There is a pause in the recording and I hear his voice again - commencing a new session.
At that moment I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye. Sienna is awake. Sleepy.
‘What are you listening to?’ she asks.
‘Your interview.’
She lowers her eyes. Embarrassed.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Like an elephant sat on my chest.’
I pull up a chair. She hugs her knees. ‘Pretty stupid, huh?’
‘Don’t be too hard on yourself.’
‘Are they going to arrest him?’
‘Yes.’
The WPC brings her a cup of tea. Sienna nurses it in both hands, warming her fingers. I can barely recognise the girl I first met. Her sassy, in-your-face attitude and confidence have been stripped away.
How will she recover from this? It’s possible. She’s intelligent and sensitive. With the right role models and advice she can still make something of her life. Otherwise she’s going to end up in the arms of some wife beater or abuser who will recognise that Ray Hegarty and Gordon Ellis have done all the hard work in breaking her spirit.
I ask her about the house she visited. The man she had to sleep with. She hesitates, not wanting to go over it again.
‘Remember what we did before? If you don’t want to answer a question, all you have to do is raise your right hand, just your fingers. It’s our special signal.’
Sienna nods.
‘What do you remember about the house?’
‘It had lots of old stuff. Furniture. Antiques, maybe. And one of those big clocks that bongs every hour. It was bonging when he was . . . when he was . . . you know.’
‘He took you upstairs?’
‘Yes.’
‘Were there paintings on the walls?’
‘Dead people in frames.’
‘What was he wearing?’
‘A dressing gown. And he had on a pair of those half slippers like my grandad wears. They flap up and down when you walk.’
‘Did he say anything?’
‘He was nice. He asked my name. When I told him he said, “I don’t suppose that’s your real name.” I knew I should have made one up.’
‘Did he tell you his name?’
‘No.’
Sienna is looking at me, gauging my reaction, wanting to know whether I think less of her now.
‘At first I thought he was just lonely, you know, like old and on his own, but then I found out he was married.’
‘How?’
‘I opened one of the wardrobes. I saw dresses and shoes. And I think he might have had a daughter my age because once he called me by a different name.’
‘What name?’
‘Megan.’
I know I could get more details from Sienna if I took her back to that night and did a proper cognitive interview, getting her to concentrate on the sounds, the smells, the images. But what would it cost her? I’d risk traumatising a girl who had been through enough.
Instead I choose another event: her weekend away with Gordon Ellis. It was in the autumn, not long after they went back to school.
‘Danny picked me up from school and dropped me at a lay-by on the A26. Gordon wanted to make sure nobody saw us together, so he made me lie down in the back seat under a blanket.
‘Where was Billy?’
‘He was next to me in his booster seat. He thought it was a game, like peek-a-boo.’
‘Did Gordon say where you were going?’
‘To the seaside; I think he said the caravan was in Cornwall.’
‘That’s a long way.’
Sienna shrugs.
I quiz her about the drive, but she can’t remember any road signs or place names. At one point Gordon said he was hungry and they stopped for fish and chips. He made Sienna wait in the car and took Billy with him.
‘I want you to close your eyes and think back. You’re in the car alone. Remember how it smelled and what you were wearing. You were excited. Anxious. Nervous perhaps. Gordon has gone to get the fish and chips. You’re waiting. What can you remember?’
‘There was a Lily Allen song on the radio.’
‘That’s good.’
‘And I forgot to tell Gordon to get me ketchup. I don’t like vinegar on my chips.’
‘Did you go and tell him?’
‘No. He told me to stay in the car.’
‘What about your mobile?’
‘He made me turn it off.’
‘What did you see outside?’
‘A picture-framing shop . . . another place with salamis in the window.’
‘What else?’
‘There was a pub over the road with a sign outside. It said, “Dogs Welcome.” I laughed and showed it to Gordon because I kept thinking of these dogs going in and ordering drinks at the bar.’ She opens her eyes and looks at me. ‘I don’t suppose that’s much use.’
‘You’d be surprised.’
I take her over the rest of the journey, plucking out small, often random details. She recalls certain songs on the radio and a billboard advertising a golf course and the smell of a poultry farm.
‘After that I guess I just fell asleep.’
‘For how long?’
She screws up her face in concentration. ‘Gordon said I had food poisoning.’
‘You must have woken up at some point.’
‘Gordon said I’d been sick on my clothes, which is why he took them off. “I brought pyjamas,” I told him, but he said I was sick on those too.’