Behind Dead Eyes (DC Ian Bradshaw #2) - Howard Linskey Page 0,55

women. ‘Every other night?’

‘I exaggerate of course,’ he conceded, ‘but we get several cases a month where a woman comes in here claiming she’s been grabbed by a man or men in that area.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Deadly,’ he shook his head, ‘but you don’t get it. Trust me, I do most of the interviewing. The vast majority of them were off their tits on drink and suddenly decided it’s a great idea to walk along one of the dozens of lanes that criss-cross the countryside in that part of the world. They go out in those skimpy little outfits, get pissed and head home on their own or they wander up there with a bloke they’ve just met and, when they’ve finished copping off with him, head off by themselves in the middle of the night. I mean, come on, talk about asking for trouble. It’s no wonder they get groped and sometimes worse.’

Bradshaw could not quite believe what the old-timer was telling him. Sergeant Hennessey didn’t seem to care about any of the women who reported these incidents, but before Bradshaw could pull him up on this he was off again. ‘They usually can’t provide any kind of description because the guy has crept up on them from behind. It’s dark, they’re pissed and scared. I mean tell me, how do you investigate that? Knock on every door in Durham and say, “Excuse me, sir, did you grab a bird’s tits last night down Shaggers’ Alley and I’m only talking about the ones who didn’t want you to?” Imagine the paperwork.’

Bradshaw found himself hoping this waste of space was going to take his pension soon, but had to hold his tongue till he had all the information he needed. ‘What about more serious stuff? You ever get men who do more than grope? I’m talking rape or attempted rape.’

‘From time to time,’ he said calmly, ‘but we don’t usually report it like that.’

‘What the hell do you mean?’

Hennessey clearly didn’t like the way Bradshaw had addressed him. ‘Listen, son, you don’t understand what it is like dealing with these types of crimes. A report of stranger rape sets alarm bells ringing all over the place but the conviction rate for rape is unbelievably low. You deal with murder or assault, the accused doesn’t normally say, “It was consensual.” ’ He was putting a stupid voice on now. ‘Or, “She was asking for it.” You get some pissed-up slapper who’s already shagged half the town walking home on her own and she’s dragged into a bush somewhere by a stranger. The first thing his defence lawyer is going to say is “You wanted it and now you feel guilty so you’re crying rape,” and you know what, half the time that’s exactly what’s happened.’ He surveyed Bradshaw to see if he understood his reasoning. ‘I’m telling you, ninety-nine times out of a hundred a jury is going to go along with that.’

‘So it’s the victim’s fault?’ said Bradshaw. ‘Is that what you tell them?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Look, don’t be like that. I’m not callous. I sit them down, make them a cup of tea and give them a biscuit, we even get female officers to have a word with them, but most of the time they end up agreeing with us.’

‘About what?’

‘That it’s not worth pursuing.’

‘You’re not serious?’

‘Of course I am. Look, why put yourself through the ordeal all over again when we probably won’t ever find the guy, let alone arrest him. There’s all those intrusive examinations from the doctor, you have to go to court and they pick your whole life apart, the newspapers are jotting it all down and the bloke who’s done it to you is standing in the dock not five yards away. Far better to put it all behind you and get on with your life.’

Bradshaw picked up the photograph on Hennessey’s desk. ‘Your daughter?’ he asked of the dark-haired smiling girl in her graduation robes.

‘Yep,’ he said proudly.

‘Let’s hope she never meets one of the men you’ve been too lazy to arrest.’

‘What did you say?’ He got to his feet as if Bradshaw had stepped over the line. For a moment Bradshaw actually thought a punch might be thrown his way but he was ready for that.

‘No, you hang on.’ Bradshaw towered over the time-server and jabbed him in the chest with a finger. Hennessey hesitated when he saw the look in the detective sergeant’s eyes. ‘How would you feel if someone gave your