Hidden Killers. Lynda La plante
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at Wing Chun. I use the balisong knives and nunchucks on the wooden dummy I have in the spare room.’
Moran glanced at Jane as she made notes.
‘Thing is, Peter, that doesn’t explain the hardcore porn magazines,’ Moran said in an amiable way, which surprised Jane after his approach and attitude in the first interview and at the house during the search.
‘I bought them from a sex shop in Soho.’
‘For masturbating?’
Allard looked embarrassed and said nothing.
‘OK, Peter, I understand that you’re embarrassed, but I’ll take that as a “yes”. What can you tell me about these pills . . . are they steroids?’
Allard nodded.
‘Tell me, did you feel an even greater sexual urge when you took them, as opposed to looking at the porn?’
‘I took them because they helped me train longer and harder, and gave me greater muscle definition, all right? It’s not illegal to buy them.’
‘Maybe not, but we know about the problems with your sex life at home. Listen, Peter, I can understand how frustrated you must have felt . . . all pent up and in need of sex . . . it must have really pissed you off not getting sex from your wife?’
Allard tightened his lips, clenched his teeth and took a deep breath.
‘None of this is her fault, none of it. She didn’t know what I was doing and just thought I was out working nights in the cab.’
‘Did you tell her what you’d done when you called her on the phone earlier?’
Allard slowly lowered his head, then replied that his wife had told him to tell the truth.
Moran nodded. ‘She’s right, Peter, because it will be better for you in the long run. So take your time and go slowly . . . WPC Tennison will be writing down your confessions.’
Allard kept his head lowered, eyes to the ground, as he explained that he had tried to cope with his wife being unable to have full sex with him. He even appeared to be embarrassed when he said that they had found ways round it.
Moran tapped the desk. ‘I know – she told us she’d give you a hand or a blow job instead . . . but I’m more interested in the women you forced yourself on.’
Jane saw Allard tighten his hands into fists. He appeared sickened at the way Moran had spoken about his wife, and Jane watched with interest as Allard took deep breaths to calm himself down, breathing in through his nose and holding it before releasing it through his mouth with a slight hissing sound.
‘OK . . . it started because I wanted to stop the feeling of anger . . . my frustration . . . understand? I paid prostitutes for sex in the back of the cab. Anyway, one night this tart ripped me off by snatching my money bag and running off. You know, I honest to God despised myself for what I was doing, but this slag angered me so much. I mean, she got away with a whole day’s takings, and I’d done two runs to Heathrow Airport. So I decided I’d take what I wanted from prostitutes without paying, as they would be unlikely to tell the police. I would park my cab near known prostitute haunts, dress up in dark clothes and watch them. When one walked away from a group, or her pimp, I reckoned she was probably going home and I would follow. I’d put on the stocking mask, grab them from behind and feel their breasts and vagina while I touched my penis.’
‘It turned you on and you masturbated.’
Allard nodded and Moran looked over at Jane to see if she was keeping up with taking down the details. She continued writing for a moment before giving him a small nod to continue. Moran leaned back in his chair. He spoke in a very matter-of-fact tone.
‘Well, Peter, seems you underestimated two prostitutes who came forward to report you. And two of your other victims were not on the game, they were just young women innocently walking home after an enjoyable night out or, as in the case of your arrest, a WPC acting as a decoy. You following me, Peter? Because, apart from WPC Tennison, you have destroyed those women’s lives and they’re now afraid to leave their homes.’
Allard looked shocked and tried to explain that from the way they were dressed he thought that they were all prostitutes.
‘Well, you were wrong. So how about you start helping me out by giving me full details of your attacks? That means I need you to describe the victims and where and when the attacks occurred.’
Allard started talking. It transpired that there had been two other attacks the police didn’t even know about. Moran tapped the desk with his pencil as if mulling over everything he had just heard.
‘OK, I notice that you haven’t admitted exactly what you did to these women.’
Allard shook his head. He took another long deep breath before he said quietly that he felt ashamed and found the details difficult to talk about.
Moran leaned closer to Allard. ‘OK, Peter, I can understand you have feelings of guilt, who wouldn’t, but see how much better you feel after telling the truth about what you did?’
Allard nodded.
‘And I can also understand that it must be even harder for you to admit to rape. I took a statement from the young victim . . . it was harrowing, even for me, so don’t make her relive the whole thing in court. Tell me the truth . . . tell me exactly what happened, in your own words.’
Allard looked Moran in the eye then slowly turned to face Jane. For the first time she noticed that without that flare of anger in his face, Allard was exceptionally good-looking. His thick hair was well cut, he had high cheekbones with wide apart, deep set, dark brown eyes, and when he lowered them in a submissive manner he had long, thick eyelashes.
‘I have never raped anyone and I am so sorry for what I did to you . . . I honestly never meant to hurt you. I was just trying to get away . . . please believe me. I am truly sorry.’
Jane jumped as Moran suddenly banged the flat of his hand down on the desk.
‘You scared the shit out of her! If she hadn’t resisted and we weren’t there you would have raped her, wouldn’t you?’
Allard looked shocked.
‘No . . . No! I swear before God, I never raped any of the women! That was never on my mind. I only touched them and masturbated.’
‘Indecent assault wasn’t enough for you . . . you wanted more. You needed full sex to satisfy your urges and the only way you’d get that is by raping a young girl.’
‘No . . . No, you’re wrong, I—’
‘Then why did you have a flick knife on you? The exact same type of knife that the teenage rape victim described seeing?’
Allard began twisting uncomfortably in the chair.
‘Please! . . . I didn’t commit any rapes! You know I wasn’t carrying a knife. I’ve never carried a knife, not even in my cab.’ He nodded towards Jane. ‘I only told her and the others I was carrying one so they wouldn’t scream!’
Moran accused him of being a liar. But Allard was adamant, claiming that he only ever committed the indecent assaults and he would plead guilty to those in court.
‘You think we’re stupid? You’re only admitting the assaults as the lesser of two evils . . . Right? Right?’
Allard looked pleadingly at Jane.
‘Honest, I wasn’t carrying a knife . . . I was never going to rape you . . . I’ve never raped anyone!’
‘Bullshit! You couldn’t have consensual sex with your wife, anal or otherwise, so the only way you could eventually satisfy your needs was to commit a rape.’
Allard refused to answer. Moran accused him again. Allard still said nothing.
‘You think I don’t know steroids make a man sexually