Bellamy slammed the door shut in their faces before they realised he was even going to make a break for it. Keene wrenched open the door and raced across the floor of the workshed, trapping him at the other end, where there was no other exit, no other means of escape.

            Keene was bigger, heavier, and Bellamy was a total wreck. He was totally dependant on drugs, and although he was a desperate man, he knew he did not stand a chance against the London policeman. Keene decided to take a chance.

            'Peter Bellamy, I am arresting you on a charge of murder....'

Bellamy held up his hands.

            'All right. I killed him. But he's not Donald whateveryousay. He's Mr Macklin. He slung me out of his house Tuesday night. I followed him when he left, and killed him. Bastard!'

            'I have to read you your rights.'

            'Don't bother. Just take me to the nick and charge me.'

            Keene shook his head. ‘Sorry, have to. Peter Bellamy, you do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

He led Bellamy out to his car and secured him in the back seat with two handcuffs. 

            'You're absolutely sure this man was Kieron Macklin, aren't you?' he said.

            'Yes, I am. I was in bed with Kerry, Tuesday night. He came back home, from London, I think, and threw me out. Nearly broke my arm. I managed to climb up the drainpipe and saw him doing it with her, his own daughter. He left the house at just after ten. I followed him and killed him.'

            'You followed him to Quarles church?'

            'That's it. I lost him once, but I caught up with him again outside the council houses near the field where the church is. He was keeping low, darting in and out of the bushes and trees, don't ask me why. I hit him on the head and dragged him into the church.'

            'Where you injected him with an hallucinatory drug, then chopped his balls off.'

            Bellamy gave a low chuckle.

            'Best thing I ever did! He was raving about some long-haired tart! Should have heard him! He shouldn't get away with that, I mean, his own daughter!'

            'I'm afraid that man was not who you thought he was. He was an escaped murderer called Donald Clitheroe. He probably deserved what you did to him, but he was most definitely not Kieron Macklin.'

            'Shit!' Bellamy spat.

            'You realise I shall have to get you to repeat all this at the station?'

            'Don't matter. Tell the truth, I was getting fed up with dodging the law in any case. I feel like a rest in the nick.'

            'It'll be a long rest, but at least they may be able to sort out your drugs problems.'

            He saw Bellamy nod his head. He wondered if Clitheroe did indeed bear a resemblance to Kieron Macklin.

            'What will happen about the other bastard, then?'

            'Macklin? We'll have a chat with him. If what you say is true about him abusing his daughter, he could go down for a while as well. Depends on her, really.'

            'I'd kill him. I'd kill the bastard!'

            'Yes, well, there are a whole load of people the police would like to see hanged, or whatever, but unfortunately the justice system doesn't work like that.'

            They pulled into the station yard. Keene unlocked the handcuffs and led Bellamy inside. 

            'This is Peter Bellamy, Ken, as I'm sure you know. He is to be charged with the murder of Donald Clitheroe, but first I want him read his rights and given a cup of tea.'

            'What about....' Bellamy asked.

            'And you'd better get the doctor here. Peter is a drug addict. He may to see the doctor.'

            Bellamy was taken to an interview room. Keene sat on the desk swinging his legs backwards and forwards.

            'Bellamy thinks he murdered Kerry Macklin's dad,' he said.

Moore joined them from another office, where he had been going over Vanessa Farmer's complaint form.

            'You what?'

Keene nodded.

            'Says Macklin came home from his London do, threw him out of the house, nearly broke his arm, had sex with his daughter, then left, presumably to go back to London. Bellamy followed him to the church, bashed him on the head then did the business on him thinking he was Macklin.'

            'Gerry.......Thompson Thompson called from King's CSallys a few minutes ago, while you were out. Said he was checking Macklin's alibi for Sunday night. I got the impression he thought Macklin might be the murderer. Kim Catchpole's murderer.'

            'Thompson? What's it got to do with him? I thought he was off sick again?'

            'He is and he isn't. I think he's in London to see a specialist.....'

            'Ken, you just said he was checking Macklin's alibi. I wasn't aware that Macklin needed to have an alibi checked at that time, or that Thompson was still on the case. Does Wilson know about this?'

            'No.'

            'Better keep it to ourselves for the time being. Don't want him breathing down our necks because his mate's still doing some detective work when he's supposed to be on light duties!'

            'It wasn't like that.....'

            'The way I heard it, Thompson lost his bottle and Wilson told him to stay behind his desk. Anyway, let's not worry about Thompson just now.  I'm going to take Bellamy's statement. Any chance of some coffee?'

            'I'll get it. I think I'd better pay a visit to Mr Mark Hegan.'

            'Okay Mickey. Ken, you in on this interview with Bellamy?'

            'Might as well. You go on, Mickey, I'll get the coffee.'

            'Right.'

Bellamy had by now seen the doctor and had been read his rights and told that he could have access to a solicitor. He declined such access. He seemed calm enough.

            'Right, Peter, in your own words, tell us what happened while you were staying at Kerry Macklin's house last weekend. If you can put some times to what went on, that might be a help. Oh, and I have to tell you that this interview is being recorded. You may have access to that recording for the purpose of preparing your own defence later. Do you understand?'

            'Yes.'

Keene switched on the tape recorder.

            'This interview with Peter Bellamy is being conducted by Detective Sergeant Keene, Metropolitan Police Force on secondment to Norfolk Constabulary, and in the presence of Sergeant Hargreaves of the Norfolk Constabulary. Peter?'

            'I can't say what the time was. I went to Kerry's as we had arranged when Kim Catchpole didn't show up. I'd been drinking, and taking drugs. I forced her to have sex with me, then I lost track of the time. I left the house sometime Monday and went back sometime Tuesday. When I was next awake it was early Tuesday evening. We had sexual intercourse several times during the evening. Some time during the early hours of the morning I was dragged from Kerry's bed and my arm was twisted so that it nearly broke. I was thrown down the stairs. Luckily I landed all right, otherwise I might have a broken leg as well. I looked up to see her father coming down the stairs after me. I was a bit shaken, and unable to fight him off. He lifted me up and threw me out of the back door. I waited a few minutes, then climbed up the drainpipe and looked in through the bedroom window. Macklin was having sexual intercourse with his daughter. She looked as if she was enjoying it, and I think it had probably been going on for some time. I waited in the shed for a while, then Macklin left the house and walked up the road. I thought he probably had a car parked somewhere so that he could get back to King's Lynn for the railway station. But I picked up his trail somewhere in the fields. He appeared to be walking to Quarles. I followed him and managed to catch him up. I hit him from behind, then dragged him into the church where I drugged him and murdered him. I thought I had made a good job of concealing his body, but you found him, along with my knife. That's about it.'

            'Peter, you have been told that the man you thought was Kieron Macklin, Kerry Macklin's father, was actually Donald Clitheroe, an escaped convict and a man wanted in connection with the murder of Kim Catchpole.'

            'I have been told that, yes.'

            'Do you still believe the man was Kieron Macklin?'

            'Yes, I do.'

            'Peter, I am going to show you a recent photograph of Kieron Macklin.  I want you to look at it carefully and say if you believe it was the man you murdered. Do you understand?'

            Bellamy nodded and took the photograph Keene pushed across the table.

            'No, that is not the man I murdered.'

            'Well that is Kieron Macklin. Now look at this photograph, which is of the man you murdered. It was taken almost a year ago, in prison.'

            Bellamy looked at the second photograph.

            'Is that the man who threw you out of the house and nearly broke your arm?'

            'No, it is not.'

            'But that is the man you murdered.'

Bellamy shook his head.

            'Can't be,' he said firmly. It had been dark in Kerry’s house, and he had assumed it was her father who had thrown him out. Whoever he had murdered was the same build and had identical hair to the man who had interrupted his session with Kerry.

Keene and Hargreaves exchanged glances.

            'Well, I don't think we're going to get very much further for the time being. Peter Bellamy, I am concluding this interview at fourteen-oh-five. You will now be charged with the murder of Donald Clitheroe. Your rights have been read to you and you have so far declined access to a solicitor. Are you ready to make a statement?'

            'Yes.'

Five minutes later Keene and Hargreaves conferred on the conversation that had just taken place.

            'What have we got now? Did he murder someone else? Did he murder someone who looks like Kerry Macklin's father? Did someone switch the bodies in Quarles church? Ken, I'm stumped on this one. What looked so simple.....'

            'Turns out to be a nightmare. I know. No, I'm absolutely certain he murdered Clitheroe, mistaking him for the man who threw him out of the house. We have yet to establish whether or not that was Macklin. I'd say that he lost Macklin's trail when Macklin high-tailed it back to London, and picked up Clitheroe's trail instead. It was dark. Bellamy was already high on drugs and booze. He wouldn't have been thinking straight.'

            'You're probably right. Maybe we'll get somewhere when Thompson gets back. Maybe I should go and have a word with Macklin now?'

            'Better wait till Thompson gets back from London, see what he has to say.'

            'Any idea when he's due back?'

            'No idea at all. But he'll be back today.'

The telephone rang. Keene snatched it up.

            'Keene.'

            'It's Moore here. There's no sign of Hegan. But some of the people I've spoken to think he might be somewhere in Sharringford. Gone to ground.'

            'Leave it, Mickey. Come back to the station. Hegan's not important. We have to concentrate on finding Kim Catchpole's murderer. I just don't think it's Kieron Macklin. Has anybody been to see the Macklins, by the way?'

            'I think Thompson was out there.....' Hargreaves said.

            'Bloody hell!'

            'I'll come back to the station, then?' Moore's voice said.

            'Yes. We haven't time to sort out family squabbles. I want a conference, just the three of us, in my office, at three o'clock. Okay?'

            'Okay,' Moore said.

Hargreaves nodded silently.

Gateway is published by Paul Edmund Norman on the first day of each month. Hosting is by Flying Porcupine at www.flyingporcupine.com - and web design by Gateway. Submitting to Gateway: Basically, all you need do is e-mail it along and I'll consider it - it can be any length, if it's very long I'll serialise it, if it's medium-length I'll put it in as a novella, if it's a short story or a feature article it will go in as it comes. Payment is zero, I'm afraid, as I don't make any money from Gateway, I do it all for fun! Should you be kind enough to want to send me books to review, please contact me by e-mail and I will gladly forward you my home address. Meanwhile, here's how to contact me: paulenorman@yahoo.co.uk

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