Without Consent Read Online Free PDF

serious problem of the day.
    â€˜No,’ Helen said finally. ‘Unless you buy a wig.’
    â€˜Blond? To go with my flowers, d’you think?’
    â€˜For sure.’
    Rose’s infuriation with the random nature of justice was always an item festering on a hidden agenda. Although she could recite it, Rose did not understand the Code for crown prosecutors, which so clearly underlined the difference between truth and pragmatism. The Code said that prosecutors should only initiate those cases where they considered there was a reasonable prospect of securing a conviction. That meant, in Rose’s eyes, that they had to consider the likely result before considering the facts. It seemed outrageous to her that these middle-class wankers should base their decisions on second-guessing what the jury, or the defence, would do; taking prejudice, skill and incredulity into account before they were even expressed.
    She stood up and began systematically feeding paper through the window, passing through the policy dictates contained in the in-tray with all the delight of an old lady feeding birds.
    The taxi fare to court would require a form in triplicateif it was ever to be reclaimed. Helen was unlikely to bother, happy enough to have the prickly Rose alongside again for the day. As they plunged into the gloom of the court foyer and dumped their baggage for the usual check, Rose pulled at Helen’s arm.
    â€˜Look, I meant to ask you earlier. One great big favour …’
    â€˜What, buy you the wig for the wedding?’
    â€˜No. I want you to talk to someone.’
    â€˜About what?’
    â€˜Rape.’
    A t this time of year, the yellow fields of the north were full of rape. Brilliant yellow flowers, so vibrant they were positively vulgar in an English landscape; luminous by night, brighter than wallflowers, but the scent of the blossoms heavy and foul. As a farmer’s son, Detective Sergeant Todd approved of his homeland, approved of rape in that agricultural context. Rape-seed oil, fit for a thousand uses, his father said. He was homesick for the sight of those flat and ugly fields so full of valuable produce. It would be nice to harvest something in the spectacular dryness of this August, and see what you had done.
    â€˜What’s he trying to do?’ Todd asked Bailey.
    â€˜Kill himself,’ Bailey grunted.
    â€˜Clever, when you think of it, although I suppose when you do, it isn’t, really. Not for a copper. You go straight home. You have a shower and put your undies in the washing machine. I bet Ryan does that every night he’s home late.’
    â€˜Ryan’s wife might have put the stuff in the machine.She may well swear she did. Just like she said he’d been in all evening, when you lot went to pick him up. Poor woman.’
    DS Todd reserved his small supply of sympathy.
    â€˜Well, she wouldn’t pass her GCSE in telling lies, that’s for sure. It was obvious she was saying the first thing that came into her head. Pointing the finger at him even more. As if she’d assumed his guilt.’
    â€˜Don’t leap to conclusions,’ Bailey said mildly.
    â€˜Difficult to avoid. I don’t see, at this stage, how even the CPS could find a way of turning this down. Even without any forensic. Even if they don’t go for rape, make it attempted rape or indecent assault; same difference. She’s covered in marks, wearing his jacket, and all he’ll say is, no comment.’
    Todd was keen as mustard. Imported from another police force, he was one of the few who did not know Ryan, even by reputation. He was not a man for gossip, Bailey concluded, but one whose sharp nose touched the grindstone with dedication every week he was not on yet another training course. Bailey smiled at him to cover the dislike he would not show. He recognized all too well the necessity of having about his person throughout this ghastly mess a nit-picking stickler to