Now I’m relaxing. He’s an old-school bastard likes the sound of his own voice. Too much of a fucking ego to maybe wonder why emdy making a documentary for the BBC would want to hear it. He’s no questioning nothing.
I goes, ‘This was on the actual day it happened?’
‘Yes. The sixteenth of June. When I got there, though, there wasn’t a whole lot to see. They didn’t close off the road as they would now. There were just a couple of panda cars and an unmarked car I recognised, parked on the driveway of Number 7. The road’s still very much as it was then – you’ll get some good shots of it. It’s a road rather than a street, just a few big houses on it before it leaves the village and winds off up into the hills. House is a big Edwardian detached job with what an estate agent would call “extensive policies”. Very nice part of a very nice village. The Fishers still live there, as I assume you know?’
I nod. ‘They’ve agreed to talk to us later.’
‘I parked on the street and walked up. Young bobby I knew gave me the lowdown. It seemed that these two twelve-year-olds, Tricia Fisher and Rachel Clark, both from well-off middle-class families, had got themselves a reputation at the village primary school as bullies. It seemed they’d asked a girl in their class, Gail Boyle, if she wanted to come and play in Tricia’s garden.
‘Things soon turned ugly. Tricia and Rachel tied Gail to a tree and Tricia fetched her brother’s bow and arrows. In those days, of course, kids did play with lethal weapons more or less willy-nilly.’
‘Those were the days, eh?’ goes Connor.
Jeff blanks the wee fuckwit. ‘So there was nothing odd about a fourteen-year-old boy possessing such a thing. When Tricia returns with the bow, she’s put on a pair of gloves. She fires off an arrow into the branches above Gail – nowhere near her, but Gail’s terrified, poor kid. She’s struggling to get free of the ropes they’ve used to tie her up. She can’t scream for help because they’ve gagged her.’ He shakes his head. ‘Tricia takes off the gloves and gives them to Rachel, and hands her the bow, and tells her to “Shoot the little cow”. Those were the exact words, apparently.’
I’ve got a dry mouth so I have. He’s on a roll. He’s loving it.
‘Tricia is goading Rachel. She’s saying, “Do it!” and, “It’ll be two against one, they’ll have to believe us and then he’ll go to jail!” It seems Tricia and her brother had had a massive falling out the day before over something trivial – he’d spilt Ribena on Tricia’s favourite dress, I think, and she was convinced he’d done it on purpose, and things escalated from there, culminating, unbelievably, in the girl deciding to frame him for murder. She’s screaming at Rachel to Do it, she’s saying Rachel is a wimp and a waste of space and that if Rachel doesn’t do this Tricia will never speak to her again. Rachel lifts the bow and –’
‘You’d think someone would hear them, eh?’ goes Connor.
‘Tricia’s parents and brother were inside the house,’ goes Jeff.
‘How was she gonnae frame her brother if he wasnae there?’
‘It seems he spent all his time in his room listening to records. The parents were in a different part of the house. They didn’t know where the kids were or what they were doing.’
I’m grinding my teeth. ‘Sorry, Jeff. Rachel’s got the bow…’
‘And she fires an arrow at Tricia’s face, point-blank range. It goes through her eye and into her brain, killing her instantly.’
The house is like something off of Pride and Prejudice. But at least they’ve got new windaes in and it’s all modern inside, big grey leather sofas and abstract shite on the walls like a wean’s been chugging paint and boaked it on a bit paper.
Mrs Fisher’s a shrivelled wee wifie keeps rubbing her arms like she’s cold. Mister’s a big old bastard doesnae say much. I’m in sympathy mode, giving it, ‘Such an awful thing,’ and ‘I know Rachel Clark was just a child, but it must have been hard that she wasn’t really… well, this is only my personal opinion, and of course we couldn’t say this in the programme, but it seems to me she wasn’t really properly punished.’
Mrs Fisher’s blinking away. She’s sitting next Mister on the sofa opposite with her knees together and her right hand on her left arm, stroking it like it’s a wee dug.
‘That was what we felt.’
‘That girl should have been locked up for life,’ goes Mister. ‘God knows where she is now and what else she’s done. They moved away, of course. It’s our understanding they went to Australia – that’s where the mother was from.’
I raise an eyebrow. ‘Oh no, Rachel’s still in the UK. She’s changed her name of course. New identity. I don’t think even her husband knows about her past as Rachel Clark. She has a husband and a little girl. Her husband’s a university lecturer and they live in a big house in a very desirable part of Edinburgh. Tea and crumpets on the lawn kind of style.’
Mister’s raging. But if Flora was here right now, if she walked through that fucking door, it’d be Missus got to the bitch first, no question.
I goes, ‘We’re planning to confront her on the programme.’
‘She should pay for what she did!’ goes Mister. ‘For murdering our daughter! Oh, she pulled the wool over the judge’s eyes all right, but that wasn’t manslaughter. She was shouting at me and I just did it! I didn’t mean to kill her! How do you not mean to fire an arrow into someone’s brain?’
I nod. ‘Of course, we’re duty bound to give both sides. Gail Boyle gave evidence at the trial that Tricia had been goading Rachel to shoot Gail. That she wanted Rachel to kill her, and then the two of them would say Matthew did it. His prints would have been on the bow and arrows…’
Mister makes like he’s gonnae jump up and pagger me, but Missus grabs his arm and goes, ‘That Gail – she was in on it, I’m sure she was. She wasn’t just an innocent witness. If she was tied to a tree, how did she get free? It was Gail who came and got me. She said that after it happened, after Tricia… She managed to pull her hands free and run to the house. But she was obviously in on it. That nonsense about Tricia telling Rachel to shoot Gail was obviously a complete fabrication. I mean, really – to suggest that Tricia wanted Rachel to kill Gail in order to frame Matthew for murder? It’s completely absurd!’
‘Your son also gave evidence for the defence…’
‘Matthew was troubled,’ says Mister.
‘It was a tremendous shock for him,’ says Missus. ‘Losing his sister like that. He was fourteen years old.’
I nod. ‘But he told the court that Tricia was violent. That she enjoyed inflicting pain…’
‘That’s rubbish. Yes, they fought sometimes, but what siblings don’t?’ She turns to Connor. ‘Have you brothers or sisters?’
Connor nods. ‘Aye, sibling rivalry’s what you’d call a weapon of mass destruction in our house, eh M–’
‘Thank you Kieran,’ I goes. ‘So what Matthew was referring to was really just the normal rough and tumble of family life?’
Missus gives me a grateful wee smile. ‘Yes, that’s exactly it. Tricia was a lovely girl. Very warm, very kind and considerate. All this nonsense about bullying – that was all Rachel. Before she became friends with Rachel, Tricia had never been in any trouble. Not really.’