by Zach Abrams
“Everything has been handled correctly and professionally. It is, of course, your prerogative if you chose to complain. You can go to the front desk and see the duty Sergeant to get the appropriate forms. All complaints are fully investigated, but for the reasons I've stated, you'd be wasting your time and our resources,” Alex added caustically.
Calum stormed away.
Following a thirty-minute recess while the client discussion took place, Alex and Sanjay returned to the interview room. Armstrong told them his lawyer had advised him to say nothing further, but as he had a desire to see the matter resolved, he was prepared to continue the interview, albeit conceding it would be best to keep Mr Pettigrew in attendance.
“If we can pick up where we left off,” Alex started. “You were telling us about how Sheila wanted to set you up with Yvonne Kitson.”
“Yes, indeed,” Armstrong replied. “Sheila had the idea of having me act opposite Yvonne in a play, and between us, we managed to set it up. It was a steamy love story which brought us close together on stage, very close in fact. I met up with her privately. Sheila knew, of course, but it was only the two of us. Sheila had picked well but not for the reason she'd thought. Quite unexpectedly, we found a real closeness. We felt perfectly matched. It wasn't only sex. We were comfortable in each other's company in a way I couldn't be with my wife. Of course, I wasn't prepared to go through with Sheila's plan. It was really strange because we felt right together and all the time I knew it was Sheila who'd been the matchmaker and I couldn't let Yvonne find out how it'd come about. Nevertheless, we started seeing each other often. Yvonne wanted me to leave Sheila, and to be honest, I was attracted by the idea, but I couldn't go through with it.”
“Why not?” Alex asked.
“I don't know. I suppose if I'm brutally honest, I'm set in my ways and I like the comforts in my life too much. If Sheila and I were to have broken up, it would have caused so much disruption. I don't have any assets in my own name. The house is owned jointly and I don't earn all that much now, not enough for the decent lifestyle I've got used to. I couldn't go back to living in a pokey flat and having to watch every penny.”
“So, Sheila would have got her way?” Alex tried.
“No, I couldn't have done that either.”
“That was why you had to kill her?” Sanjay now asked.
“No, no!” Armstrong cried out. “I could never have done that. I loved her. It may have been a strange relationship, but I did love her.”
“So, what were you going to do?”
“I really don't know. I didn't have an answer but I could never have hurt Sheila.”
“Maybe you believe Yvonne did it then,” Alex asked.
“I'm sure she didn't,” Armstrong defended.
“How can you say that? You weren't aware she was at Eastfarm at the time of Sheila's death, or at least that's what you've claimed,” Alex challenged.
“No, you're twisting what I've said.”
“I think we should have a recess. I want to talk to my client.” Pettigrew leaned forward; he had, until then, seemed entranced listening to the story and was suddenly alerted by the prospect of his client being charged.
“Not now,” Alex dismissed. “You had your chance earlier.”
However, Pettigrew had achieved his purpose of breaking the flow and allowing Armstrong to realise his predicament and become more circumspect and acerbic with his answers.
“How well do you really know Ms Kitson?” Alex asked.
“I believe my client has already answered that,” Pettigrew said.
“Maybe you're wanting all the lurid details of what happened in our bedroom. I don't see how it would be relevant. If that's how you get your kicks, just go and read some of Sheila's books,” Armstrong retorted.
“Mr Armstrong, it's a legitimate question. You're purporting to be a character witness for Miss Kitson. You've told me ….” Alex referred to his notes. “You've told me you're 'sure she didn't do it.' What qualifies you to make such a statement? How well did you really know her? You've told us in what capacity, at least in part, but are you really qualified to comment on her character? The things we already understand for sure are that she seems comfortable having a relationship with a married man and she manipulates her working timetable to suit herself and lies to her employer about it. Lied to you as well, it appears.”
Armstrong paused before answering. “She didn't lie. She just didn't tell me she'd changed her plans. As far as knowing her, we first met about three years ago, but only as much as to recognise each other at meetings. The play we were in was performed in January, the rehearsals started much earlier, must have been October or November of last year. By that reckoning, we first got together about six months ago.”
“And the two of you had been stringing Sheila along all this time?” Alex asked.
“I suppose, when you put it that way…it sounds bad. But Yvonne wanted me to be with her. She wanted me to leave Sheila, but she didn't wish her any harm. She never once said or implied anything of the sort.”
“Let's put this into context, Mr Armstrong. You and Kitson have been having an affair for months. She wants you to herself. She asks you to leave your wife but you refuse. Whether it's because you care for Sheila or because of the money you'd lose if you left could be relevant, but Yvonne believes you want to be with her and Sheila's the only one standing in her way. Can you tell me a better motive for killing her? This way you get to keep your money and she gets to keep you.”
“Oh my God, it's not like that. I don't know how to convince you. Yvonne and Sheila were friends before I was even involved. They cared about each other.”
“That doesn't really help your argument, Mr Armstrong. You've already explained Sheila's motivation for that friendship. In fact, if she'd tried to take it further, then that could even give Yvonne further motivation to get rid of her.”
“No, no,” Armstrong looked defeated. “She's kind, she's caring. She's a teacher, an educator, for God's sake. She cares. She's charitable. She loves people, loves life,” Armstrong blubbered in a quiet mantra.
“Let me change direction for a moment,” Alex stated. “I want to go back to talking about the murder weapon.”
“Yes,” Armstrong replied hopefully, pleased to change the subject.
“We are now fairly certain that the knife used to kill your wife was an authentic one manufactured by the same company who made the prop ones,” Alex started.
“Well, that's good news, if you've ruled out the theory that I fabricated a copy.”
“We've not completely ruled it out, but as I said we're fairly certain. You may not consider it good news when I tell you the reason. The markings on the murder weapon indicate it came from a particular production batch and we have therefore focussed attention on where knives from that batch might have gone. We have discovered that South Caledonian Amateur Players were one of very few organisations throughout the world who owned one and, even more intriguing, their set of knives can't be found and their records do not identify where they might be. We understand that both you and Yvonne Kitson are members of the players. What's more, you told us a short time ago that you came together as a couple after you played opposite each other in one of their productions. We've spoken to some of the Committee of 'The Players' and they've also confirmed very few people had access to their prop stores. Amongst the list we have of those who did, both your name and Yvonne's appear. We don't have any faith in coincidence, so you'll understand why you're under suspicion.”
“But, but …” Armstrong struggled to find words. “I don't believe it. You're trying to stitch me up. You, or someone else, are out to get me. There must be another explanation. There must be.
“It's true I do have access to the props room but I can list another dozen people who also have. They'll be plenty more too. You're jumping the gun if you think it was me. Show me some evidence, some real evidence. You can't, which is why it's clear I'm innocent.”
“An
d Miss Kitson will be one of your dozen people. This is nowhere near as simple as you're making out,” Alex replied. “We've established you and Miss Kitson both had a strong motive to end Sheila's life. We know you had access to what now appears to be the murder weapon, which gave you the means. You were both at the scene, which means you had the opportunity. A full set, so by my reckoning we have you banged to rights. Now are you ready to confess?”
“Certainly not. I've done nothing wrong.”
“It may well be a jury who has to make that call.”
Armstrong looked bleak.
“We'd also like you to tell us about Sheila's illness,” Alex probed.
Armstrong looked confused. “What illness?”
“You mean she had more than one?” Alex asked.
“No, what's this all about? I've no idea of what you're talking about.” Armstrong became agitated, his face flushing bright red.
“Tell me about her brain tumour,” Alex demanded.
Armstrong banged his hand on the table. “What are you talking about? Is this some sick joke? Or is it some perverse strategy to confuse me, to make me say something stupid or incriminating?” His frustration turned to anger. As he began to stand, Pettigrew placed a restraining hand on his arm. The move sufficiently settled him and he sat back in his chair breathing heavily.
Alex stared directly into Armstrong's eyes. He held the gaze, saying nothing. It was close to three minutes with the room so silent you could have heard a pin drop, but for those sitting, it felt like hours before Alex continued. “Are you honestly trying to tell us you knew nothing about it? We have Sheila's P.M. report showing she had a massive tumour. We've checked her medical records and found it was first diagnosed more than two years ago. She knew about it and was aware it would be terminal.”
Armstrong's jaw dropped and he shook his head spasmodically, as if trying to ward off the information. “She said nothing. I didn't know. It can't be true; she'd couldn't have hidden something like that from me.”
“She could and she did, if this is truly news to you,” Alex replied.
“But why? Why would she not tell me?”
“Perhaps she didn't trust you with the news. Maybe it was a very bad mistake. After all, had you known, then you wouldn't have had the same reason to murder her. You could have just waited and left her to die.”
Armstrong's eyes were watery. “I didn't kill her. I swear I didn't. You have to believe me.”
“We think otherwise. Either you or Kitson or the two of you working together are responsible and you're going to be charged. Why not make it easy on yourself and everyone else and tell us the truth.”
“I have,” Armstrong pleaded. “I have been truthful, but how can I prove I didn't do it? How can I convince you?”
* * *
Sanjay and Alex compared notes following the interview. “We'll need to get Kitson in and charge her, but let's leave it until the morning. I'm knackered. We also need to arrange search warrants for both their houses,” Alex suggested. “Now, would you like the fun job of advising his brother?”
“No, I'm going to pass,” Sanjay smiled. “I'll leave it for Pettigrew; after all, he has to serve some useful purpose. He had such little impact on the interview he'd have been better not being there.”
“Better for his client maybe,” Alex said. “He did okay for us. He fulfilled the suspect's right to have a solicitor present and succeeded in being totally ineffective. I love it when we have a family lawyer to deal with. Technically, they're qualified, but they don't have a clue how to handle a criminal investigation or to look after their client's interests. It plays straight into our hands.”
“What do you make of Armstrong? Do you think it credible for him really to know nothing about Sheila being at death's door?” Sanjay asked.
“He appeared very convincing. What purpose would there have been for him to lie, after all, why would he have killed Sheila if he'd been aware? Unless he wasn't prepared to wait for her to die. Having said that, do you believe the murder could be down to him? We have no shortage of circumstantial evidence, but we really want something more tangible. Let's see what we get from Kitson and the searches.”
“I think Kitson may be the more likely one,” Sanjay replied. “Of course, it might be an act, but Armstrong seemed too weak and indecisive to be the killer. Whoever did this didn't only want to murder Sheila, they wanted to make a show of it. The whole set up was a piece of exhibitionism and Kitson's the drama expert. What do you reckon?”
“You do have a point,” Alex said. “There's the other possibility the two of them could have been working together. But I still can't get over the whole performance thing. Even if she, or he, or they, were turned on by the idea of the showmanship, they were taking one helluva chance of it not working. It could have failed entirely, or else only cut Sheila without causing serious damage and then where would they have been? There's a whole lot more we need to unearth if we're to get to the truth and if we're to have any chance of getting a conviction.”
Chapter 19
Sandra and Peter walked back into the first interview room. Tommy was sitting where they'd left him and was trying to look nonchalant, but it was clear to them he was unnerved.
“Let's start where we left off, you're still under caution, but now we'd strongly recommend you have a solicitor sit with you before we progress. We can arrange for a duty solicitor to attend if you or your family don't have one you choose to use.”
“I telt you before, I dinnae want a stranger listenin' in. Nothin's changed and I can look after mysel',” Tommy asserted.
“Okay, fine with me,” Sandra said. “Just so long as it's understood that you were offered representation and knowingly declined.”
“Aye, it's understood,” Tommy answered, bowing theatrically after saying it.
“We've found out a lot more since we last spoke to you and you're in a lot of trouble. We have evidence to show that you were involved in a whole series of crimes. If convicted, then irrespective of your age, you're likely to go down for a very long time.”
“I've done nothin' wrang that you can get me for,” Tommy replied.
“I wouldn't be so hasty making assumptions,” Sandra stated.
Tommy looked less confident but kept up his display of bravado. “I'm sayin' nothin'.”
“That's up to you. We can't make you talk, but in the absence of you saying anything to defend yourself, then the buck stops with you. To start with, we'll call your parents and see if they want to appoint a legal representative and then we'll be charging you. We don't need to hit you with it all to start with, just enough to justify keeping you in custody. Peter, ask one of the lads to make the call.”
Peter held the door open as he called out the instruction, adding he needed to arrange a warrant to search their house.
“I telt you, I didnae want my parents involved. I think you're bluffin', you don't have anythin',” Tommy said.
“As you're not prepared to talk to us, you've given us no alternative,” Sandra said.
“Why should I talk? You'll only twist everythin' I say,” Tommy challenged.
“As I said, it's up to you. We're already fairly certain about everything that's happened, so we don't need your evidence. We'd like more information about Kevin Speirs' involvement, but that would be bonus. As it is, our bosses will be happy we've cracked the case and you're in for a fall.”
“Wait a minute, you already know about Kev. I thought he was bomb proof,” Tommy said.
“I'm sure that's what he'd like everyone to believe. The truth is he's not as smart as he thinks and he's going to have a lot of time At Her Majesty's Pleasure to consider that. You'll not be short of company.”
“What are you talkin' about? I've maybe been in the wrang place but I've no' done anythin'. What do you think you have on me?”
“We don't think, we know,” Sandra was keeping the pressure on. “Where do you want me to start? Shall we do it chronologically? That would be e
asiest. Okay, to kick things off, we have truancy, but I'm not getting too excited about that one, more a community policing matter, isn't it? I'm more interested in your crimes than your misdemeanours. Let's see, we start with armed robbery, followed up quickly by a serious assault. We'll need to see how the fiscal wants to handle it, he may want to go for attempted murder, or settle for G.B.H., who knows? To crown it all, you go right to the top of the heap with a murder in the first degree. Oh, and mixed in with all the rest let's throw in trying to pervert the course of justice.”
“Wait a minute, that's no' me, none of that's me.”
“None of it?” Sandra contested.
Tommy looked down at his feet. “I didnae do it. None o' the bad stuff.”
“It's all bad stuff,” Sandra replied. “And we have you down for all of it. We've witness statements, camera footage and, after a search, I'm confident we'll have forensic back up as well.”
“You've got it wrang; it wisnae me, I tell you. Okay, maybe I was there, but I didnae do it.”
“You'll need to give me more. Tell me what happened.”
“The hold-up was meant to be a bit o' a laugh. Kev said we'd go in and put on balaclavas, act as if it was bank robbery, somethin' like that. It surprised me as much as anyone else when Kev pulled out the toy and pretended it was a gun. It did look real, mind you.”
“What makes you think it was a toy?” Sandra asked.
“Well, it had to be. Where would he 'ave got a real one?”
“Did you handle it?”
“Nah, he wouldnae let me.”
“So, you really don't know what it was. Get on with your story.” Sandra's arched eyebrows and intonation on the word 'story' showed her lack of belief, but Tommy gave no indication he'd picked up on it.
“Everyone was really scared. They opened the safe and the cash drawers and then backed away. They did exactly what they were telt. Kev went to the safe and telt me to empty the drawers.”
“Did you see what he took?”
“Money of course.”