Traces of Red, page 23
The brother who was too close to his sister.
‘Only a weirdo like him would do something like this. Who else could have done it?’
I’m also at a loss. Who, for instance, could have killed such a good kid as Samuel? Or kill Rowan, so clearly one of the nicest guys around? Who could kill my sweet sister Angela?
Who killed them? What possible reason could there have been?
‘He was harbouring resentment because of the money. He couldn’t let it go. He was jealous and resentful. He was overwhelmed by that jealousy.’
Can you imagine what it’s like sitting in a courtroom forcing your fingernails into the palms of your hands because that’s all you can do to stop yourself shouting out that what they’re saying is so mistaken it’s absurd? ‘You’re talking crap. You’ve got it all so fucking wrong.’
And your sister is dead.
I’ve told you everything I can think of. I loved Angela. I never would have hurt her.
It wasn’t me.
34.
Tracking Alan Norman down was easy. In fact, all I had to do was to follow my instincts that Greg Williams wasn’t as trustworthy as he appeared. I simply phoned the lab and asked for him. He sounded slightly stunned. ‘Rebecca Thorne? The television Rebecca Thorne, you mean?’ I told him why I wanted to talk to him and he dodged around a bit but in the end agreed to meet me in a café he named after he finished work.
Not everyone had ‘moved on’, after all. Something was going on. There were only two or three couples as well as me at the café but he glanced carefully at them as he crossed to the table where I was sitting.
I stood up and held out my hand. ‘Alan? Rebecca Thorne,’ I said. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘I recognised you right away,’ he said, sitting down.
‘Would you like coffee? Or wine? I’ll get it.’
‘Uh, thanks. A beer? Pilsener.’
I went over to the bar, made my order then sat opposite him. ‘I hear Connor used to brew his own beer,’ I said brightly. ‘Did you ever try it?’
He looked surprised. ‘As a matter of fact I did.’
‘Was it good?’
‘Yes, it was good. Mind you,’ he added quickly, ‘I was only at his place a couple of times. I didn’t know him all that well. Anyway, what’s all this about? Something you’re working on, you said.’ He looked edgy, kept glancing around the café.
I kept my voice calm, dispassionate. ‘There’s been a bit of interest lately in the Bligh case and we’re looking into making a documentary about it. I’m trying to get an overall picture of what happened, just talking to people who knew Connor Bligh, it doesn’t matter if it was well or not. A few names came up and you were one of them. I thought while I was here in Palmerston North I’d look you up.’
‘Who gave you my name?’
I tried to look vague. ‘Oh, you know, I’m not even sure. I don’t do the research. Probably it came from the police, I suppose. They have a list of names of colleagues, friends, associates. I guess you were just one of them.’
‘I wouldn’t want to be interviewed.’
‘Sure. That’s fine.’
The waiter came over with a tray. I picked up the glass of wine I’d ordered. ‘Cheers,’ I said smiling at him.
He picked up his beer. ‘Right. Cheers.’ He looked at me, then away. ‘I suppose you get this all the time but I can’t really believe I’m sitting here talking to Rebecca Thorne. I used to watch Saturday Night all the time.’
‘That’s so nice to hear, Alan.’
‘You look a bit different from on television.’
I smiled again, ruefully this time. ‘They have to try and make me look glamorous. Lots of make-up. You know.’
‘No, no. What I mean is, you look better. Younger.’
He drank from his glass and looked at me again. Good. He seemed to be thawing.
‘Thank you.’ Keep smiling, Rebecca, a little girliness needed here.
‘Are you doing documentaries now instead of Saturday Night?’
‘I’m doing it for Zenith. That’s if they give it the go-ahead. To be honest, I’m quite scared about it. I have to… Well, I’ll have prove myself with this one. It’s the first long documentary I’ve ever been involved in and I want it to be good.’ I tried to assemble my face into something representing weakness and trepidation. ‘It has to be good.’
He looked a little taken aback. ‘But you are good. You always appear so confident.’
‘Oo-oh,’ I said. ‘That might be how I appear, Alan. But I’m far from confident. Especially about this one.’
My mother, who had attempted to instil within me feminist principles of autonomy and integrity, would have slapped me for my behaviour. I asked him all about his work and his life and hung on his every word and giggled at his jokes. I bought more drinks and agreed with bright enthusiasm to his timid suggestion that we stay there and have dinner, ‘They have really good pizzas here.’
I waited until he was on his third beer before I introduced, in a way I imagined was casual, questions about Connor. ‘He’s so quiet, isn’t he? I’ve found him really hard to get to know. But I suppose you’d know him much better than I do through working with him.’
The guard was up again. ‘Not that well. He was always fairly quiet.’
‘That’s what everyone says,’ I said, sighing. ‘It’s just so difficult to get anything for this doco that hasn’t been said before.’
‘Yeah, well I hardly knew him, so …’
I leaned forward, widened my eyes slightly. ‘It must have been such a shock when all that happened. I mean, you must have been working with him at the time.’
He took another slug of beer. ‘It was a shock, all right. It came over the TV news, that is, about the murders and everything, and I didn’t take much notice and then this face came up on the screen and I thought, Jesus, that’s Connor’s sister.’
‘You actually met Angela? What was she like?’
‘Nice. Just, you know, a really nice woman.’
‘Oh my god, and to think what happened. How did you meet her?’
‘She was at his house. I met her there. Just the once, though.’
‘You went to Connor Bligh’s house?’ I gazed at him as if he was the bravest and most fascinating man I had ever encountered. ‘Did they seem to get on okay? Did you notice anything strange?’
‘I didn’t notice anything.’
‘Alan, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but you knew him. Do you think he did it?’
The pizza had arrived some time ago but neither of us had touched it. I saw him turn his eyes rather longingly towards it so I helped myself to a piece and nibbled the corner. ‘Good choice,’ I said encouragingly.
He took a piece and bit into it and chewed. He seemed wary, as if he was thinking very carefully. He finished chewing then finished his beer.
‘Another one?’ I said, smiling brightly and pointing towards his glass.
‘I don’t think I will.’
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that question.’
‘It’s perfectly natural that you would. To be honest, it’s something I think about a lot. Did Connor do it? I can’t believe he would have and yet he was found guilty and he seemed the only person likely to have done it. But—’
‘You have doubts?’
‘I suppose… well, I’ve got to admit I knew him a little better than I ever let on. I could have stood up as a character witness for him. I can’t help wondering if it would have made any difference. There were quite a few people who chose not to as well as me and there weren’t that many who did support Connor in the end.’
‘People from the lab, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why wouldn’t they speak up for him?’
‘It’s… well, it’s a long story.’
‘Does this have anything to do with Professor Williams? I got the impression he didn’t have much time for Bligh.’
‘There’s no doubt about that. Greg Williams really had it in for Connor. Nothing was ever said but there was a distinct awareness around the lab it would be better to remain uninvolved. Anyway, he was a witness for the prosecution so—’
‘So if you were on the other side it would seem you were opposing him?’
‘Yeah, that’s it.’
‘Surely Greg Williams wouldn’t have disliked Connor so much he’d have wanted him in prison?’
‘I can’t bring myself to believe that of him either. Probably it was more that he didn’t want anyone from his team, as he likes to call us, supporting someone he disliked.’
‘But why did he dislike Connor so much?’
Alan shrugged. ‘All sorts of reasons.’
‘Connor’s in prison partly, I think anyway, because he was presented as anti-social and volatile, the sort of guy who could kill someone. Williams is partially responsible for that.’
He looked concerned. ‘Do you think what he said had that much influence?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I do. That combined with the obvious lack of opposing evidence had an enormous effect on how the jury saw him. But what I can’t understand is why Greg Williams spoke the way he did and why he was so against him. Connor was very able and extremely hard-working. Did it really all blow up because of the project with that woman, Alison …?’
‘Alison Butterworth. You know about that?’
‘Just that she and Connor fell out over a project and Williams was involved.’
He looked at his empty glass and sighed. ‘Look, I think I will have that other beer, after all.’
I watched as he drank, then he looked at me. ‘Okay. This didn’t come from me. You know what I mean?’
‘A journalist never reveals her sources,’ I said.
‘Right. What you might not know is that Greg Williams and Alison Butterworth had this hot little number going for several months, probably over a year. Alison had been away on conferences with him, that sort of thing and they were known to emerge from his office late in the afternoon with very flushed faces. Okay, they were screwing, and Alison had been stuffing around for months on her project. Williams had already got her extra funding, which was about to dry up, it was way off completion and people were going to start asking questions. That was when Connor got called in and I have to tell you he did his best for the project. Williams’ take on it is a pack of lies. As you’ll probably know Connor’s astoundingly bright and he put everything he had into getting it done, and without much cooperation from anyone else. He tried very hard to keep on Williams’ good side, tried to please him wherever he could.’
‘Then Alison made her complaint and it wasn’t upheld and she left? Is that why Williams has a grudge, because of Alison leaving?’
‘Not entirely. After it was all over, that is, when the project was completed and Connor was found to be blameless by Human Resources, everything settled down again exactly as it had been. That is until Williams’ wife got an anonymous letter telling her all about the affair and giving dates and places she could easily check up on. All hell broke loose in the Williams household and that’s when Alison left the lab.’
‘How do you know all this?’
He grinned. ‘Sources. Very reliable sources. Mind you, it was fairly obvious something major was going on. There were phone calls coming into the office and Williams was away for days at a time and Alison was weeping all over the place. But Williams blamed Connor for the letter. Apparently he was convinced he’d written it out of spite.’
‘Do you think he did?’
‘He may have, but I doubt it. Connor was always oblivious to anything that wasn’t directly related to his work and I’m not sure he’d even be aware of what was going on between Williams and Alison. He never mentioned anything to me, anyway.’
‘So Williams’ testimony against Connor was a way of getting even?’
‘Maybe it was.’
‘Connor was working on something he said could have proved fairly significant and even threatening to some large industries. Do you know anything about that?’
‘I wouldn’t know about that. Connor was always cagey about his work.’
‘If it was that significant and it did have serious implications, Williams may have seen it as reflecting badly on the laboratory. That may have been another reason to want to get rid of him.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You could be right about that. Depends on what it was, of course. But that plus Alison Butterworth could have made Williams more than happy to see Connor go. Not nice, but that’s the way it looks.’
‘You’ve given me enough to make things a little less nice for Williams, anyway.’
He held out his hand. ‘I’ve got to go. Good to see the real Rebecca Thorne, incidentally.’
‘Sorry?’
‘The flirting. You were good but you couldn’t keep it up. You’re a bit too sharp for all that, aren’t you.’
‘Obviously not sharp enough to take you in.’
‘It’s worked out okay. You got what you wanted and I got the chance to get this off my chest. It’s bothered me ever since the trial and if there’s something you can do with it go ahead. How’s Connor by the way?’
‘He’s… well, he’s okay.’
‘He’s a good guy. A bit strange but all right, you know what I mean? Nice meeting you, Rebecca.’
‘You as well. Thanks.’
I ordered coffee to take the edge off the wine before I tottered back down the street to the motel. Being caught out on flirting. I wanted to laugh out loud. I’d looked down my nose enough at Janet’s shameless performances and here I was, not able even to flirt convincingly.
But Connor had told me the truth. And with this new info I’d be able to blow Williams’ evidence right out of the water.
35.
I left next morning and drove slowly, the conversations I’d had turning over in my mind.
You can tell about people, can’t you? The way they look and that. There was something about him, never looked you in the eye.
Connor gave the distinct impression he had little respect for anyone at all.
He was the kindest and definitely the most interesting neighbour I could have wished for.
As you’ll probably know Connor’s astoundingly bright and he put everything he had into getting it done. He did his best.
What did I have now that I could use? Gary Ryan would verify what Connor had said about Dick Bligh and his childhood. Barry would speak up for him and I could use Alan’s statements, a co-worker who refuses to be named said. And the affair. The affair. I couldn’t believe I’d got that lucky.
Did Connor write that letter? Could he have been that malicious?
But hadn’t he been loyal to Williams?
He tried very hard to keep on Williams’ good side, he tried to please him where he could.
How many people had Connor tried to please? I wondered how many tractors he’d tried to run in front of to earn himself a little scrap of approval.
Had he tried to please Dick Bligh? Why had Dick Bligh hated Connor? Because it seemed he had. Disliked him, anyway, enough to leave him out of his will. What was that saying? That even after I’m dead I’m giving you nothing? You mean nothing to me and I want you to know that even when I’m dead?
Why had he disliked him so much? It obviously had begun from when he was a small child so it was unlikely to have been caused by anything he could have done. Perhaps Connor was like his mother. Perhaps that likeness was a constant reminder and reproach to Dick Bligh.
Still, to be resentful to that extreme and for something entirely outside Connor’s control seemed crazy. And while a father could conceivably dislike his child, surely a sense of fair play would prevent him from going as far as utterly denying him.
Angela was different. She had this friendly open kind of face. Always smiling, Angela was.
But Angela was more practical than academic. She didn’t have Connor’s extraordinary intelligence or acute sensitivity.
Neither it seemed did his father. Bligh was thick as that four by two over there. Or – shit, why hadn’t I thought of this before? – the man who was supposed to be his father. Connor didn’t take after him in looks either.
If Connor wasn’t Dick Bligh’s son that would answer the question of why he’d been rejected.
A pretty little thing. Too good for Bligh.
Although Ruth Bligh lived in isolated circumstances she must still have had contact with other people. It was another long shot but I asked Mike Mackey to get copies of Connor’s and Angela’s birth certificates from Births, Deaths and Marriages asap. Mike was an ex-cop and capable of pulling a few strings to get things done quickly. Two days later they were in front of me.
Angela was registered as Angela Ruth Bligh. ‘Father: Richard Edward Bligh.’
Connor was registered as Connor Wilson, his mother’s maiden name. ‘Father: unknown.’
I phoned Joe. I hadn’t spoken to him in weeks. We went through the preliminaries. How are you? How are you? I asked about Michelle and he said she was doing well. I heard the caution in his voice as he spoke to me; he was so careful, so polite that it broke my heart.
I breathed in. It’s over. It’s over and I’m doing just fine.
‘Joe, the main reason I phoned. You know I’m working right now on this documentary about Connor Bligh? You didn’t tell me he wasn’t Dick Bligh’s son.’
‘What?’
‘You don’t know? I’ve just discovered he’s registered under his mother’s maiden name.’
‘That’s news to me. Not good news either.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just thinking quickly, well, it could put a whole new weight on the motive of jealousy. If he’d found out about it after Dick Bligh died and the property was left to Angela – and, if she already knew. Christ, Rebecca, the implications are enormous.’
‘How come you didn’t know about this?’
‘I didn’t ever look at his birth certificate. There was no need and Bligh didn’t tell me, it’s that simple. I’m certain the prosecution doesn’t know this and if they get hold of it, that’ll be something else they have against him.’
