by Adam Carter
“Where were you last night?” Barden asked. Lees knew he began with the question because it was standard and something everyone expected the police to ask. Perhaps Straw had even already fabricated an alibi, or perhaps he would tell the truth. Either way, the answer would be interesting.
“I don’t remember.”
All right, Lees reconsidered, the answer hadn’t told them much of anything.
“Let’s try to narrow it down, then,” Barden said diplomatically. “Were you at home, or were you out?”
“I was in the pub, yes, but I don’t remember much of it.”
“Which pub?”
“The one you’re talking about.”
“I haven’t mentioned any pub.”
“Detective Barden,” the solicitor said with the voice of an oily snake, “let’s not bait and trap here. Mr Straw is willing to cooperate, but he’s very nervous. He knows full well why he’s here and what happened at the river, but he’s still confused. So let’s not treat him as a suspect, but a witness.”
He was technically both, Lees knew, although she did not say as much. She also knew Barden did not like to be told what to do or how to think by solicitors, but he was clever enough not to let his emotions show.
“Certainly,” he said. “Mr Straw, we can agree then that you were in the …” He checked his notes before naming the pub and the street. Since it was a chain pub there was no reason for him to have forgotten the name: not that Lees believed for a moment that Barden would ever forget anything. It was a tactic, one of many Barden implemented. As nervous as she was, Lees realised she was indeed learning a lot from this experience.
Straw nodded that he was indeed there.
“Tell me what happened,” Barden said. “And, if you’re intending to be very cooperative, please don’t leave anything out.”
“Harry went over to them, and …”
“To whom?”
“The big guy and the girl.”
“Do you know their names?”
“No.”
“Did you know who they were?”
“No.”
“Did Harry?”
“I don’t know.”
Barden paused. Lees wanted to say something, but she was too afraid to.
“Go on,” Barden said at last.
“Harry was drunk and he said something to her. Something about offering her money.”
“Why did he do that?”
“Because he was drunk.”
“No other reason? You see, it’s been suggested there might have been a bet involved.”
“A bet?” Straw frowned in genuine thought. “I don’t remember a bet, I don’t make bets. We might have dared him or something, I don’t know.”
Lees sensed he was being honest and a glance to Barden confirmed he did too.
“So, Harry approached the girl,” Barden said, “and made some crass comments. Then what?”
“We pulled him away. I said sorry to the girl and we took Harry outside.”
“Then what happened?”
“He sobered up a bit. The air got to him, I reckon and we had a bit of a laugh over how close we’d come to the big guy tearing into us.”
“Sounds hilarious.”
“Everything’s funny when you’ve just escaped death.”
It was a little extreme, but a fair enough comment for a young and confused man to make.
“How long were you outside?” Barden asked.
“I don’t know. Might have been twenty minutes? Forty? I lose track of time when I’m drinking.”
That much, Lees reflected, was also true.
“But eventually,” Barden said, “the two came out. The big man and his girlfriend.”
Straw looked down at the table. “Yeah. I didn’t see them at first, not until the guy started talking to us. He wasn’t being aggressive, but I could see he was angry. But Harry … Harry didn’t seem to care.”
“He wasn’t too drunk to notice?”
“Not by that point. We’d gone back to drinking again, but only just. We were all a little plastered, don’t get me wrong, but I could feel something inside me ticking away, like I knew we were on a timer or something.”
“Who started the fight?” Barden asked.
“Harry, I guess. The other guy threw the first punch.”
“Tanner, you mean?”
“That his name?”
“Tell me about the first punch.”
“Harry offered him money and Tanner knocked it out of his hand. Then Harry lunged for him.”
“So Harry attacked first?”
Straw seemed confused, and even Lees was trying to figure out whether slapping money from someone’s hands constituted assault. She knew she was trying to defend Harry, but things were looking grim.
“Sean laughed,” Straw said. “I couldn’t believe he was doing that, it was just winding the guy up. I don’t remember much after that. There was a fight, I didn’t do much but tried to help where I could. Then the big man – Tanner – went for me and I fell.”
It was how they had been told already, but Lees had not been dreading anything up to this point. It was where the questions would go from there that had her concerned, because now Barden would ask about Harry, about what his surname was and where he lived.
“Let’s talk about Harry,” Barden said.
“Harry,” Straw repeated. “I don’t know much about him but I’ll tell you what I can. Lucy says … says Tanner died?”
Lucy Fisher! That was the solicitor’s name. Lees noticed they were all staring at her then and she wiped the huge smile from her face.
“Tanner died,” Barden confirmed. “He was stabbed.”
“Stabbed?” Straw asked, aghast.
Lucy Fisher shifted her weight where she was sitting. Lees understood the woman’s frustration: she had already told her client all of this but in his confused state, Straw was taking in only a portion of the information presented him.
“Does Harry carry a knife?” Barden asked.
“Harry carry?” Straw asked without even meaning to, his brain still trying to catch up to the situation.
Lees felt the blood drain from her face. She had been trying so desperately hard not to have her name linked with Harry’s, and suddenly wished she insisted everyone call her Caroline.
“Someone stabbed Tanner,” Barden said, “and I need to know who it was.”
“I … I didn’t see a knife.”
Lees opened her mouth, not even knowing what she was going to say even as the words came out. “None of the witnesses mentioned a knife,” she said, “so it’s not likely he did, but we have to cover all aspects.” She realised she was once again defending Harry too readily, so for Barden’s benefit added, “Or maybe things moved so quickly you didn’t see the knife.”
“I don’t know.”
Barden seemed curious as to his partner’s angle of questioning, but did not berate her. “Does he generally?” he asked.
“I don’t know him.”
That answer surprised Lees and even offered her a little hope.
“What?” Barden asked. “What do you mean you don’t know him?”
“I only met him last night.”
“You what?”
“Sean, I know Sean. Sort of. Haven’t seen him for about a year, but I bumped into him last night at the pub. He was with his mate, Harry.”
“Why go to Mullin’s house if you haven’t seen him in a year?”
“Because of what happened yesterday. I don’t have Sean’s number, but I remembered roughly where he lived. Found his number in the phone book and decided to go see if he was all right, ask him if he knew anything more than I did about last night.”
Barden did not look pleased, while Lees was trying to hide her relief.
“So,” Lees said, “until we jumped you, you didn’t even know Tanner had ended up in the river?”
“No.”
“So why’d you run?” Barden asked.
“Because y
ou looked like cops and when you said my name I just panicked.”
Barden held the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “I don’t suppose,” he said tiredly, “there’s much point in asking whether you know Harry’s surname?”
Lees felt her heart stop …
“Sorry.”
… and continue.
Barden did not have many further questions and they wrapped up the interview quickly. Lees was under the distinct impression he wanted to get rid of Straw so they could concentrate on something productive.
“What a waste of time,” he said when they were alone once more. Straw had been taken back to a cell while Barden and Lees had retired to the staff canteen to bury their sorrows in badly made coffee.
“What are we going to do with him?” Lees asked.
“Straw? Nothing. He didn’t do anything. Dragged his drunk friend away from a fight when they were inside the pub; got knocked down in a fight outside. He may have thrown a punch or two but, like he said, he was just trying to help his friends. That he was there when Tanner went over the rails means we could look at charging him as an accessory to something, but if he was barely conscious at the time I don’t see the point. Well, to be fair, we could try, but we couldn’t make it stick.”
“So we let him go?”
“Eventually. He can stay in the cell for a while. No, it’s these others we want. I get the feeling, though, that when we pull in Sean Mullin, we’re going to be faced with the same problem. Guy ran away before Tanner was thrown in the river, so his lawyer’s going to argue he can’t be an accessory either. That’ll be an even worse fight for us, since Straw was at least there when it happened.”
“So,” Lees summarised, “what we really need is Harry.”
“Right. No Harry, no case. I’m beginning to wonder whether even Mullin knows who this Harry character is.”
Lees did not know any of Harry’s friends, but she had certainly never heard him mention anyone named Sean. It was a possibility. Up until recently she wouldn’t have believed it to be an especially good one, but then again she had thought it was all over when they were interrogating Straw.
“Back to searching for Harry, then,” Barden said. “You have any connections you could try?”
Lees sensed this was the perfect opportunity to get away. She needed to ask Harry about Sean, whether he knew his surname, where he might have gone running off to. “Sure,” she said. “Even uniform have their informants.”
“Go check with them. We’ll meet back here in a couple of hours. Keep your phone on, in case speak no evil or hear no evil grow a conscience and hand themselves into the front desk.”
Lees had no idea why Straw was designated see no evil, since he could well have been any of them, but Barden was tired and likely didn’t know what he was saying.
They parted company a few minutes later and Lees got in her car and headed straight home. As she neared the house, she had visions of Harry out in the front garden, burning the carpet, but thankfully there was no activity at all that she could see. Turning her key in the lock, she could hear voices, which meant the idiot had invited someone around. Storming through to the living room, she found Harry sitting there with a can of beer in his hands, his trainers still on his feet, a companion sitting opposite him. It was then she noticed they were also watching the football and she almost screamed.
“What are you doing?” she demanded fiercely. “I’ve been spending all morning saving your neck and you’re sitting here drinking.”
“Carrie,” he said, “I think you need to talk to this guy.”
She rounded on him, becoming more aware with each passing moment that she now had two targets upon whom to vent her aggression. The man was clearly vain: physically fit, with gelled hair. “And who the hell are you?” she asked.
“I think you’ve been looking for me,” the man said, raising his beer in a toast. “My name’s Sean. Sean Mullin.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sean Mullin was in her house. Sean Mullin and Harry Gorman were the primary – the only – suspects in a murder, and they were both sitting in her front room, drinking beer and talking football.
“I don’t know why I bother trying to save you,” she said, rounding upon Harry.
“Sean came round when I phoned him,” Harry said. “After you’d gone, I remembered I don’t actually have Dave’s number, so I couldn’t call him.”
“We have him at the station,” Lees said.
“We?” Sean Mullin asked, some of his smug demeanour dwindling.
“Oh, good,” Lees said snidely, “Harry’s forgotten to tell you who’s investigating the murder. Murder? That word sinking in yet?”
“Murder?” Harry asked. “It was an accident.”
“You threw him in the river.”
“Yeah, but only accidentally.”
“He was also stabbed.”
It was Harry’s turn to lose some of his surety. “Stabbed.”
“Yes, stabbed. Someone jabbed a knife in him and it killed him. So, which of you was it?”
“I didn’t stab him,” Harry said.
“Hold on,” Mullin said seriously, “you’re a cop? Harry, you never said your girlfriend was a cop.”
“What does it matter?” Harry asked. “Neither of us stabbed the guy, Carrie. Maybe he caught himself on something under the water.”
“I think Ray might have thought of that.”
“Who’s Ray?” Mullin asked.
“Detective Ray Barden,” she replied. “He’s the one in charge of finding the two of you.”
“And you say you have Dave?” Harry asked.
“He was useless. Doesn’t know anything, so we’ll let him go. But we went to your house,” she told Mullin, “so don’t go back there.”
“Oh perfect,” Mullin said. “I can’t just hide low. Eventually I’ll go home, and when I do the police will nab me. You have to do something, girl. You’ve got to get me off this.”
“For one thing, don’t call me girl. And what do you expect me to do? Frame someone else?”
“That’s one option.”
Lees was shocked to silence. She had been spending so much time trying to divert the investigation, she had never considered pushing it forward and making sure someone else got sent down for it. Ethically, it was far from sound, but Lees had never much cared for ethics.
“Appleton,” Lees said without meaning to.
“Appleton?” Harry asked.
“The girlfriend. I keep telling Ray she knows more than she’s saying. I could blame her, but I don’t know whether I could frame her. What I need is the knife.”
“Can’t you just use any knife?”
“No, it has to be the one with the blood on, you idiot.”
She could see Harry was tiring of her calling him an idiot, but she wouldn’t have to if he stopped acting like one.
“I’m supposed to be out looking for the two of you right now,” she said. “Since I can’t find either of you, I’m going to need to take something back to Ray.”
“How about we kill Sean,” Harry said, “and you can tell him Sean and Tanner killed each other.”
“Actually,” Lees said, “that’s not a bad idea.”
Mullin raised his beer can in a threatening manner.
“I didn’t mean kill you,” Lees snapped. “Tanner was clearly murdered. I reckon he clambered out of the water and got into another fight. It’s obvious he was murdered. So what if it wasn’t murder? What if it was self-defence?”
“I’m not following,” Harry said.
“We stab one of you and tell Ray that Tanner came after you with a knife. You managed to wrest it off him and stuck him with it.”
“That’s still implicating one of us in the death,” Harry said.
“But self-defence isn’t murder. I think we have to accept here that we’re not walking away from this totally untouched.”
“So which of us are you offering up?” Mullin asked. “I’m assuming t
hat would be me.”
“You’re the logical choice,” Lees told him, “since Ray already knows where you live. If you don’t mention Harry, they’ll never catch him.”
“Charming,” Mullin said. “So I go to prison and you two breathe a sigh of relief?”
“It could be worse,” Lees said. “Harry can say he saw you stab Tanner. I have access to Tanner’s body and it won’t be too difficult to coat a knife with the man’s blood. It won’t stand up to scrutiny of course, but remember who I am. I can rush things through, maybe even have the knife conveniently disappear once we’ve all verified the blood was Tanner’s and that it was found in your house. Your choice, Mullin, is going down for murder or chance getting let off entirely with a plea of self-defence.” She paused for effect. “No, really, it’s your choice. You have to choose.”
“I don’t have to listen to this,” Mullin said, tossing his beer can at Harry. Lees winced as she saw dregs splash across the carpet, but because of the possible bloodstains she had already decided to deep clean it anyway. “Typical pigs, setting me up for something.”
“You’ve had trouble with the law before?”
“Like you haven’t looked me up already.”
It was something Lees probably should have done, but her mind had been on other things. Besides, looking someone up on the police database likely left a trace, and if Barden checked her progress he would wonder why she was looking up Sean Mullin to begin with. The last thing she wanted to do was give Barden precisely what he wanted.
“Or,” Lees said as he moved for the door, “I could arrest you here and now.”
“Then Harry would be in for it as well.”
“Then how about I cuff you and leave you here while the two of us head down to the station and blame everything on you?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would. We’re back to my finding a conveniently blood-stained knife, by the way. Uniform would be along in about an hour to arrest you, so with any luck,” she said, glancing at the television, “you might get to see the football result as your final act as a free man.”
She could see the anger boiling within Mullin. He was not a physically strong individual and Lees knew enough self-defence to be able to take him down. Plus there was Harry, who would not side with Mullin if he knew what was good for him. Lees had no doubt at all that if this turned into a fight, it would be Mullin who came off the worst for it.