by L M Krier
'Thanks for all your help, Megan,' he said, when Suki got out of the car and walked back towards the pub. 'And please thank Jezza too. Can you let Inspector Turner and Maurice know I'm going to cut and run now? Seeing the seamy side of life like that has made me realise more than ever how much I just want to go home and spend the rest of the evening with Trev.'
Chapter Seventeen
'You're back earlier than I thought.'
Trev turned the sound down on the film he was watching when Ted came in and sat down next to him, pushing cats around to make some space for himself on the sofa.
'We found the witness we were looking for, and I got fed up watching a bar full of people out on the pull and only interested in one-night stands. Why do people do that?'
Trev shook his head. 'No idea. I certainly don't need to go out shopping around when I have my own insatiable sex fiend on tap.'
Ted laughed. 'Tired and world-weary sex fiend this evening. And I have to be up and out early tomorrow. I'll try to be back at a decent time, though, and I'll pick up a takeaway, if you like, save you cooking? I just have to go in. Foster's lot have a man in custody and I'm convinced he's innocent. I can't leave him languishing there the whole weekend, if he is.'
Trev leaned over and kissed him. 'I love how much you care about people.'
'And I love everything about you. Except, perhaps, your habit of leaving your clothes lying around on the floor.'
Trev's look was one of mock offence. 'What? So next time you're dragging me upstairs against my will, you want me to stop, sort the laundry and hang everything up first?'
'I've never known you to protest,' Ted smiled. It was just the sort of domestic normality he needed, after the day he'd had. Especially with the stink of possibly corrupt coppers in his nostrils.
Ted's first port of call when he got to Foster's nick the following morning was to go and see the custody sergeant. He wanted to make sure Pawel Bosko was being well looked after, and to tell her that he was going to be interviewing him shortly, with DC Winters.
'Has Mr Bosko had his breakfast, Sergeant?' Ted asked the officer behind the desk.
'He has, sir,' she informed him tersely. 'There are some of us within this station who follow the rules and take care of anyone enjoying our hospitality.'
'Yes, of course, I apologise, Sergeant,' Ted said hastily in the face of her reproachful look. 'I made an assumption and I shouldn't have done. It's something I deplore.'
The contrast when she smiled at his apology was astonishing. Ted found himself smiling back at her.
'I should just tell you, sir, that I had great pleasure in refusing DI Foster and DC Coombs an interview with Mr Bosko when they came sniffing round after you'd left. I've been wanting to do that for some time.'
Ted was pleased to hear it. He knew how difficult it could be when the likes of those two got above themselves and started bending the rules. The custody sergeant outranked Coombs, but there were certain CID officers who regarded all those in uniform, regardless of rank, as beneath them, as Coombs had already demonstrated.
When he went upstairs to the main office, Ted found DC Winters waiting for him, but no sign of anyone else. There was a brand new pair of leather work boots, with steel toe-caps, sitting on the desk next to him. Ted couldn't help himself. He reached out and lifted them off the desk, putting them on the floor, then grinned shamefacedly at Winters.
'It's an old superstition. You shouldn't put new shoes on a table. It brings bad luck. And I have a feeling that these particular boots are going to be very lucky indeed for our Mr Bosko.'
'You're thinking the size is wrong, sir? But is that enough to clear him?'
'Have you ever tried walking in a pair of boots a full size too small for you? Especially ones with steel toe-caps. There's just no way of forcing your feet into something that rigid, if they don't fit. Even if he succeeded, it would be likely to be painful. People may not have noticed a maintenance man going in to repair the plumbing. One who was limping painfully would stick in witnesses' memories.
'I'd like us to go down and start interviewing him now, but I don't want to spring the boots on him too soon. We'll leave them just outside the door. Then, if I pause the interview at some point and ask you to organise some drinks, please bring them back in with you, and we'll watch carefully for his reaction.'
'Am I asking questions, or just observing, sir?'
'If you could just watch for now, please, we'll see how we go.'
He could tell from the DC's reaction that he wasn't used to a senior officer using please when addressing him. Ted was interested to know why DC Winters has chosen this station and why he stayed. He was clearly not overly impressed with the recent actions of his DI.
Seeing how easy-going Ted was being, Winters risked asking, 'So when I bring the boots in, do I put them on the floor or on the table?'
Ted laughed. 'You got me there. Put them on the table, where he can see them. I'll just have to hope the old superstition isn't true. Right, let's go. I want you to watch our Mr Bosko very carefully, especially when you bring the boots in, and tell me afterwards what you think of his credibility.'
As usual, Ted set the tapes running before he so much as exchanged pleasantries with the suspect. If he was going to recommend letting the man go, he wanted back-up for his decision. There were already, to his mind, too many grounds for a skilled defence lawyer to suggest reasonable doubt. He was having difficulty with the idea that the man had been careless enough to get his blood on the victim's car door, and to keep hold of his business card, yet had seemingly left no trace of himself at the crime scenes.
Ted began by going patiently over everything he'd asked the man before. Bosko stayed consistent, his answers never varying from what he had already said the day before. Nor did his body language show any variation between seemingly innocent, unrelated questions and anything to do with the crime under investigation.
'Tell me about the business card, Mr Bosko. Can you tell me how the victim's card came to be in your pocket?'
'No, sir, I can't,' the man said frankly. 'I just don't know. I never saw it before policeman took it out of my pocket. It was not in my pocket last time I looked there. I never saw it before.'
'When the police officers searched you, did they ask you anything about what they might find in your pockets? And did they put gloves on before searching you?' It would be standard police procedure to ask a suspect if there was anything in their pockets which could cause harm to an officer about to put his hand in there, and to glove up to protect themselves.
'They all had gloves. I notice when I got out of my van, they all have blue gloves on. I thought it meant they must think I have done some crime, and they were looking for evidence. But no, they did not ask me. The one who searched my pockets just said, I think, something like 'what have you got in here?' or some words like that.'
The more Ted heard, the less he liked it. He only had until two o'clock to hold the man, without applying for a further extension. So far, he had nothing to justify such an application. He carried on doggedly, covering everything he could think of. He was still waiting on DNA results from the Stockport crime scene, checked against Bosko's, which were being rushed through as fast as possible for him.
'I think we'll just take a short break there for some refreshment. Mr Bosko, coffee for you? Tea for me, please, DC Winters, milk and two sugars, if you could arrange that?'
Ted paused the tapes, after saying what was happening. He noticed that Bosko immediately started to look nervous, as if fearing what might be about to happen to him, with the tapes switched off.
Winters came back in almost immediately, carrying the boots, which he placed on the table directly in front of the man. Bosko showed no reaction beyond a mild curiosity. Ted restarted the tape.
'Mr Bosko, you can see in front of you a pair of work boots. Do you own a pair like that?'
'No, sir, I do not,' the man said, making a move to pick one of them up. When no one stopped hi
m, he lifted it up and turned it over. 'Not my size. They are size too small.'
'Nevertheless, I'd like you to try them on, please.'
The man looked at him, his expression puzzled. 'I don't understand. They not my size.'
'Please try them,' Ted repeated patiently.
The man put the boots on the floor, carefully opened each boot as wide as he could and attempted to slide his feet into them. He had quite a high instep, so he was having little success. His feet would go so far but no further. He looked up apologetically.
'Please keep trying, Mr Bosko,' Ted told him. 'Perhaps try standing up, to see if that makes a difference.'
He seemed to be trying genuinely enough, but he was not having any more success, even when he stood up and tried to force his feet down, wincing with the effort.
'Is like Kopciuszek,' he said.
'I'm sorry?' Ted queried.
'Is story. About prince who tries to find pretty girl who danced with him and lost shoe. She has bad sisters, who want to try the shoe, but it does not fit. I am like sisters. These shoes do not fit me. I'm sorry.'
'Cinderella,' Ted smiled. 'We have the same story. And yes, I agree. Those boots do not fit you. Thank you for trying.'
There was a knock on the door and a uniformed officer appeared with a tray of drinks for them. Ted thanked him, then told Bosko that they would leave him for a moment while he had his coffee in peace. He and DC Winters picked up their drinks and left the room.
'I need to make a phone call to the DSU,' Ted said as they moved down the corridor. 'You stay outside the room. I won't be long. What are your impressions so far?'
'If he's a liar, he's a bloody good one, sir,' Winters said emphatically. 'And surely any defence lawyer would drive a truck through the case with the boots being the wrong size? Are you going to let him go?'
'That's my gut instinct, but I want to check it with the Big Boss first. I've no doubt he'll be in close contact with CPS, and I can't see them being happy for us to charge him on the basis of what we have so far, even with him having no alibi. We have no witnesses and nothing to place him at either scene, if my instincts are right. I'd like to get those DNA results back from my patch, to make absolutely sure, but it will all depend on the timing.'
He moved away out of earshot, taking a gulp of his tea as he went, pulling up Jim Baker's number and pressing dial. The DSU answered quickly.
'What's the latest, Darling?' Jim asked him, still finding time for their customary joke.
Ted told him everything that had happened in the interview, finishing up with, 'It just doesn't stand up, pun intended. He couldn't even get those boots on, let alone walk in them, or kick anyone's head in with them. If I tried that theory out, any decent defence lawyer would do the same and that would probably be all the reasonable doubt a jury would need to get an acquittal if we tried to take it to trial.
'I'm hanging on, hoping to get the DNA results through, but I doubt there'll be anything there. What are CPS saying?'
'Pretty much the same as you, before I even go back and tell them about the boots. They don't think we have much of a case at all, with no witnesses, nothing to place him at either crime scene. Unless you suddenly get a confession out of him in the near future…'
'The only way he's going to confess is if I go in there and practise some Krav Maga on him.'
'Don't even say it in jest, Ted,' Jim growled. 'No doubt that's pretty much what was going to happen to him, if you hadn't had the presence of mind to restrict access to him. Right, get back to him, see what else you can get out of him, but I'm not prepared to ask for further time without either a confession, correctly obtained, of course, or DNA evidence.'
Ted paused for a few words with DC Winters, outside the interview room, while they both finished their drinks.
'Loyalty is a good quality, DC Winters. But it's always a good thing to know when it might be misplaced,' Ted told him conversationally. 'If you have any ideas at all about how that card got into Mr Bosko's pocket, or how his blood came to be on our victim's car, it might be a good idea to tell me, in confidence. I need hardly point out to you that should it emerge, at a later date, that you knew anything and said nothing, you could be facing conspiracy charges, if anything serious, like tampering with evidence, has gone on here.'
'I don't know anything, boss,' he replied, surprising Ted with how he addressed him. 'Not for definite.'
'But you have your suspicions?' Ted asked astutely. 'Let's carry on with Mr Bosko, for now. After that, I strongly suggest you and I have a long talk, perhaps over a sandwich.'
They went back inside and Ted continued his questioning. Bosko was unshakeable. His version of events never varied. Ted was just about to call it a day when there was a knock on the door and the same constable who had brought the drinks put his head around the gap.
'Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but your DI needs you to call him, urgently.'
Ted explained for the tape and excused himself to Bosko. Seeing the anxious look reappear on the man's face, he said, 'You have nothing to worry about, Mr Bosko. Neither myself nor DC Winters are going to do you any harm. If you prefer, I'll ask this officer to leave the room as well?'
Bosko's eyes had been riveted on Ted the whole time they had been speaking so he had barely glanced at the DC. He looked at him warily now but was clearly slightly reassured by what he saw.
'Is fine. I trust you.'
Ted went out into the corridor to phone Jo, who answered on the first ring.
'I thought you would want me to interrupt your interview, boss, as I have good news for your suspect there. In fact, it's a double whammy of good news for him, but less so for us.'
Ted invited him to go on.
'Firstly, the DNA came back as no match, which, I think, was what you were expecting. There's nothing at all to place your suspect at our crime scene. And secondly, our real killer is still out there, and back on our patch. Mike and I are just on our way out towards Cheadle. The call's just come in. Another hotel, another body, sounds like the same MO. So unless your man is a better escape artist than Houdini, went walkabout in the night then let himself back into his cell at the nick, I would say that just about clears him beyond all doubt.'
Chapter Eighteen
Ted could see that he had an incoming call waiting and wasn't surprised that it was from Jim Baker. He would also have been informed of a suspected third killing by the same perpetrator, as a matter of routine. Ted ended his call to Jo and answered Jim's.
'You heard, then? I was just about to phone you anyway, to say I was happy enough that our man here is innocent, even before Jo told me about the latest victim.'
He told Jim all that had gone on in the interview and how he had already made his mind up before the latest death.
'Is there any way we can suspend Foster and his two cronies for the time being, Jim? I don't want them anywhere near this case. At best, they're incompetent. At worst …'
'We could be looking at conspiracy to pervert the course of justice,' Jim Baker finished for him. 'Leave it to me, Ted. I'll get those three clowns in this afternoon for an intimate discussion with me and my good friend Gerry Fletcher. I know he's free; we were due to play golf together later on. He'll be even more formidable than usual, being kept from thrashing me yet again on the course.'
Ted gave an involuntary shudder at the mention of the name. He'd met the head of Complaints and Discipline for the force a few times, socially, through Jim. There'd never been anything against Ted to warrant investigation by C&D, although he'd recently had a close call. DSU Fletcher was tall and muscular, ramrod-straight, silver hair cropped into a close crew-cut, steel grey eyes which bored like a gimlet. A former Welsh Guardsman, it was easy to imagine him being the terror of new recruits on the parade ground. Ted was always relieved he only had to converse with him over drinks or dinner rather than across the table in an interview room.
'I'll head off back to Stockport shortly, after I've given Mr Bosko the good news. I
just want time for a quiet chat with DC Winters first. I don't think he's involved. I'm not sure he knows for a fact what went on, but I just want to make him understand how unwise it would be for him to speak to any of the other three before you do. I'll keep you posted.'
When Ted went back into the interview room, Bosko and Winters looked to be relaxed enough and appeared to be chatting about football. The plumber looked up at him hopefully as Ted sat back down and set the tape running once more.
'Mr Bosko, I'm pleased to be able to tell you that in light of information which I have just received, you are now free to go, and there will be no charges against you. Thank you for your cooperation.'
He would have loved to follow it up with an apology but he knew he was not allowed to. It would be ideal ammunition for any possible future claim for wrongful arrest. From the delighted beam which broke out on Bosko's face, and the way he grabbed Ted's hand in both of his and shook it enthusiastically, he could see that he was just so delighted at the news, he would be pleased simply to get back outside and go on with his life.
'Here's my card. If ever I can help you in any way, please feel free to call me,' he said, pushing one of his cards across the table. 'And if you ever do come to Stockport, let me know, so I can contact you if I need a good plumber. Thank you again for your cooperation. Someone will be along shortly to return all your possessions to you, and you will then be free to go.'
As he and Winters left the room, Ted asked him if there was a canteen in the nick. He needed to get going shortly, but he could murder a cup of tea before he went. He was certainly not going to risk eating anything, based on the previous two scenes of crime. He hoped Mike Hallam would be all right this time.
'There's just a rest room, where we can brew up. If you want anything to eat, there's a sandwich place just on the corner. I could nip out for something?'