“Sammy, while you were out on the marsh, did you hear any other bangs, to scare the birds?”
“Yeah, ’course. They were going off every few minutes. The birds are always hungry in the morning.”
The shooter was using the everyday sounds that people no longer heard to mask the killing shot. Ingenious. And I’m a fucking idiot.
“So what did you do next, Sammy?”
Sammy quickly told her how she ran to school and waited for her dad to show up and collect the gun from her. When he didn’t, she’d walked home, running across the main road and into the farm fields on the other side. She didn’t want to go near Connie again, and she didn’t know what to say if someone had seen her on the path with the gun. So she’d gone home and tried to hide the gun in a gutter, which Gina confirmed.
“Miss Temple, why didn’t you bring this information to the attention of the police?”
“I—I think I was in shock at first. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Connie was my best friend. I was still reeling from the fact that she was dead and when I learned that Sammy thought she was responsible…I panicked. I didn’t think about it clearly. I didn’t think that it was impossible for the little rifle she was carrying to be able to shoot as far away from her as Connie was. I didn’t think about anything rationally. I just panicked.”
“And then lied to us?”
“No. I didn’t lie. I didn’t tell you about this, but I didn’t lie to you. Every question you asked, I answered honestly.” She stretched her hand across the table and then pulled it back. “When you asked about Leah and the drugs, I could have pushed you in that direction. I could have easily led you to believe it was her. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t direct you falsely and let someone else rot for a crime they didn’t commit.”
“So what did you want?”
“I guess I was hoping you weren’t very good at your job and that it would never get solved.”
Kate tried not to let the comment get to her. People had said far worse over the course of her career. But for some reason it really did.
“Then when you were hypothermic and you let slip that it was a much bigger gun than she was carrying, I knew it couldn’t have been Sammy’s fault.”
“So why didn’t you come forward with the information then?”
“It’s a good question.”
“And the answer?”
“I don’t have a good one for you.”
“I’ll settle for an honest one.”
Gina blanched and Kate almost apologised for the hurtful comment. But she didn’t. She held her tongue.
“I asked Sammy to go over it again. She didn’t see anything that could help you. She didn’t see anyone. How could going over it again and again help her? She’s having nightmares about what she saw.”
Kate looked at Sammy. “Are you?”
Sammy shrugged, her chin hitting her chest, and she nodded.
“We can get her help with that,” Kate said to Gina. “I’ll get you the number of a counsellor from victim support.”
“She isn’t a victim.”
“No, but she’s a witness. They help those too and they have people who specialise in helping kids.” She looked at Jimmy, wondering if he had any questions. He shook his head. “Interview terminated at seven forty-four p.m. Thank you for your time, Miss Temple. Sammy, thank you. You were a big help.”
She shook Sammy’s hand and held hers out for Gina. Her touch was electric. Fingers sliding against hers, palm to palm, Kate swore she could feel Gina’s pulse hammering against the thick pad at the base of her thumb. Her skin was soft, smooth, velvety, and welcoming. She pulled away quickly. “Detective Powers will show you out. Please, don’t go anywhere without letting us know, as we may need to speak to you again.”
Sammy and Gina followed Jimmy to the door. Before she left, Gina turned back.
“I’m sorry, Kate. I didn’t want to keep things from you, and I never lied to you.”
Kate didn’t look at her. Now was not the time to think about why that hurt so much, never mind talk about it.
“I’ll pick up Merlin when I finish this evening.”
There was a long pause, then Gina whispered, “Fine.” She walked out without another word.
Kate rolled her head from side to side trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. She heard the door open again.
“Want the other good news?” Stella asked.
“What’s that?”
“Matt Green has a Kimber 8400 patrol .308 rifle registered to him.”
“Other than the word rifle that means nothing to me.”
“It’s one that takes 7.62 by 51 millimetre NATO rounds.”
Kate turned to look at her quickly. “And he has one registered to him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“I will.” She stood up and tugged on her shirt.
“Oh, now there’s a look of determination,” Stella said.
“He has no alibi, a weapon that takes the round we found evidence of, and motive. He’s lied to us and I don’t like him. And he’s an idiot of a father. I want to charge him for that stunt with Sammy.”
“I’ll add it to the list.”
“Good.” She pulled open the door of the interview room. “Where is he again?” Stella pointed down a short corridor. “Right. Are we ready?”
Stella handed her a thin file. “Tom’s in there already.”
“I thought he was going to wait for me?” She glanced through the file. Everything she needed.
“He is. You also said you wanted him intimidated.”
“So what’s he doing?”
“Staring at him.”
“And?”
“And nothing. He’s just standing in the doorway, staring at him.” Stella shuddered. “It’s bloody creepy. He narrows his eyes and stops blinking. I’m telling you, it’s creepy. Green’s already shaking in his boots.”
Kate pictured the tall, stocky man standing still, just watching her. Doing nothing, not even blinking. She shuddered too.
“See? Creepy.”
Kate shook it off. “All right, let’s get on with this. I’ve got a home to go to tonight.”
“You do?”
“Well, a house.”
“Empty one?”
“Won’t be once I pick up that mutt.”
She opened the door and went inside. She didn’t speak but sat down, opened a pad, and set a pen on top of it. Then she started the recorder.
“It’s seven forty-nine p.m. on Sunday the first of November, twenty-fifteen. I’m DS Kate Brannon and in the room with me is DC Thomas Brothers. Please state your full name and address for the tape.”
“Matthew Green, Pebbles Cottage, Brandale Staithe.”
“Thank you, Mr. Green. For the benefit of the tape, Mr. Green has not been arrested, he is at this stage helping us with our enquiries.”
Tom still hadn’t moved, still hadn’t blinked. Stella was right. It was bloody creepy. Green could barely keep his eyes off him.
“Where were you between six a.m. and seven-thirty a.m. on the morning of October twenty-ninth?”
“I was with my daughter, and then I went to work.”
“I have a statement from your daughter that you left her alone on the marsh, in possession of a fully loaded firearm before six a.m., and you weren’t seen at work until almost seven-thirty. Hence the specific times I refer to. So I will ask again, Mr. Green. Where were you?”
“They’re lying.” His eyes were still glued to Tom.
“Both of them? I doubt it. Besides, your daughter was more worried that she was going to be in trouble. Your actions left her convinced for three days that she’d killed Connie Wells.”
“What?” Matt’s eyes fixed on her with laser-like focus. “What did you say?”
“She fired at a rabbit. Like you asked her to. Then Connie was dead. She thought she’d done it. She saw it.” Kate placed a photograph of Conn
ie on the table. The grass was green and trampled all around what was left of her head.
“That’s fucking gross. Get rid of it.”
“Your little girl saw this because you left her alone with a gun.” She tapped her fingers on the table beside the picture.
“You’re lying. She didn’t. She’d have said something.”
“She’s having nightmares because she saw this.” She started drumming her fingers. Ring, middle, index, little finger. Her little finger landing on the picture each time, drawing his focus back to what was left of Connie’s head.
“She didn’t.”
“Oh, I’m afraid she very much did. She saw this because you left her alone before six o’clock in the morning. She remembers because she was sitting in the grass, in the dark, when the church bells rang six times.”
He swallowed hard.
“Your boss didn’t see you until almost seven-thirty, Matt. Where were you?”
“I was busy.”
“I’m sure you were. Busy doing what?”
“Just stuff.”
She drummed her fingers again, ending with her pinky on Connie’s hair. “Busy doing this?”
“What? No!”
“Prove it. Tell me where you were.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“Right.” Kate left the picture where it was and pulled another from the slim file. She placed it next to the first. “Registered to you is a Kimber 8400 patrol .308, just like this one, correct?”
He nodded.
“For the purposes of the tape, Mr. Green.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” She put a third picture down. “I’m showing Mr. Green a picture of a 7.62 by 51 millimetre NATO round. Is this the correct ammunition for your Kimber rifle, Mr. Green?”
“Yeah, that’s what I use. That’s what works best with that weapon. Why?”
She tapped the picture of Connie again. “We found traces of a 7.62 by 51 millimetre NATO round in the wound track, Mr. Green. Do you know what that means?”
He said nothing.
“It means that a 7.62 by 51 millimetre NATO round,” she said touching the picture of the cartridge, “killed her.” She pointed to Connie again. “A bullet that is fired from a weapon just like the one you own. Does that help jog your memory, Mr. Green?”
He said nothing.
“We know that you had a run-in with Connie at Christmas.”
No response.
“She told you to fuck off and pointed an air rifle at your little todger, didn’t she?”
Nothing.
“Is that why you decided to do it?”
Not one word.
“Did you kill her?”
“No.”
“Did you kill Connie?”
“No.”
“Did you murder Connie Wells?”
“No, I didn’t kill her.”
“Then prove it, Matt. Tell me where you were.”
“I was nowhere fucking near the marshes. I was nowhere near Brandale Staithe. I wasn’t even in fucking Norfolk.”
“Where were you?”
“I was meeting a guy at Sutton Bridge.”
“What guy? Why?”
“Just a guy.”
“Why?”
“I just was.”
“You don’t just leave your daughter and drive—how many miles is it to Sutton Bridge from Brandale Staithe?”
“I dunno. About thirty, maybe.”
“About thirty?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, about that.”
“So you left your daughter, your nine-year-old daughter, alone on the marsh, with a loaded gun, to drive thirty-ish miles to meet “some guy” just because?”
He dropped his head to his chest.
“Doesn’t sound good when I put it like that, does it, Matt?”
He shook his head.
“For the purposes of the tape, Mr. Green shook his head no.” She folded her fingers together. “So what were you doing in Sutton Birdge?”
“I told you, I was meeting some guy.”
“Why?”
“Just…just because…”
“Not good enough, Matt. You really need to convince me or I can probably convince my boss that you did this.” She tapped the picture of Connie again. “And if I can convince that cynical old bastard that you did it, trust me I can convince the crown prosecution service and a jury that you fucking did it.”
“I didn’t kill her.” He slammed his hands on the table. “I didn’t do it.”
“Prove it. Give me something I can corroborate that puts you anywhere but holding that gun.”
“I can’t.” He shook his head.
“Why not? If you weren’t there, all you’ve got to do is show me where you were. Give me something that proves it.”
“I can’t.”
“Who was the guy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why were you meeting him?”
“I was selling him something.”
“Selling him what?”
“Nothing.”
Kate laughed. “That’s not how this works, Matt. Either you were selling something to a guy or you weren’t. Either you can prove you were there or you can’t. If you can, we can clear this up, and I can keep looking for Connie’s killer. If not, well, you’re looking at a long stretch, Matt.”
“I want a lawyer.”
Kate laughed. “This isn’t America, Matt. You get a solicitor over here, a brief, but not till you’ve been arrested. And I haven’t arrested you.” She gathered up the pictures and slid them back into the folder. “Yet.”
“It wasn’t me. I didn’t kill her.”
“Then tell me who you were meeting.”
“I don’t know his name. It’s just a delivery driver.”
“A delivery driver.” She sighed. “Okay, Matt, I’ll play. Were you dropping this nothing that you were selling off at his depot?”
Matt shook his head. “No.”
“His house?”
“No.”
“Come on, Matt, you’ve got to give me something or I can’t help you.”
Matt laughed. “You don’t want to help me. You think you’ve got it all worked out.” He looked her up and down, a sneer twisting his face. “You haven’t got a fucking clue.” He held his hands out on the table, wrists together. “Arrest me, bitch, and get me my brief ‘cos you ain’t getting another word out of me.”
He did have an alibi. She could feel it. But unless he gave it to her it didn’t matter. Unless he proved it, it made no difference to what they had on him. What was it about the alibi that he was so scared of? What could be worse than facing a murder charge? Didn’t matter—until he gave them the information, she didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“Matthew Green, I’m arresting you for the murder of Connie Wells. You don’t have to say anything, but your defence may be harmed if you do not mention, when questioned, something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say can and will be used as evidence. Do you understand your rights?”
Tom helped him to his feet and waited for him to respond. Matt spat on the table.
“Do you understand your rights as I’ve explained them to you?” Kate repeated.
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
Tom guided him out of the room and to the custody sergeant, where he was quickly booked and led to a cell. Kate watched with detached curiosity. At least now they could get a warrant to search his house and car. Maybe they would tell them more than Matt Green was willing to.
CHAPTER 20
“Mum, can I have some chocolate?”
“No. It’s too late.”
“But—”
“I said no.”
Gina knew Sammy was going to sulk all the way home, but she had other things on her mind. The fact that Kate had refused to look at her when she was leaving. She’d taken it so personally. Oh, for God’s sake, why no
w? All these years and now I find someone that I really like and she’s never going to talk to me again, well, not in a personal capacity anyway.
“I said, can I have a hot chocolate, then?” Sammy shook her arm.
“Oh, erm, yeah. That works.”
Sammy smiled.
One mini disaster averted. Shame about the bigger one. Should I have kept my mouth shut about Matt not being with Sammy? No. Definitely not. No matter what else happened. Why was he lying about where he was? Did that mean...?
She didn’t want to think about the prospect of what that lie could mean. She really didn’t. Thinking about her daughter accidentally killing Connie was bad enough. To think Matt, someone she had a history with, someone who she had a daughter with, might have murdered Connie was too much. It was a crime that had taken planning, patience, care. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment, heat of anger thing. It was a cold, calculated crime, and one she didn’t want to picture anyone she knew committing.
“Mum, why was Kate angry at you?”
“DS Brannon to you.”
Sammy frowned. “She told me to call her Kate.”
“When?”
“The other night when you slept on the sofa.”
“Oh, right.”
“So why was she angry?”
“Because she feels I should have told her what happened to you earlier. About what you saw.”
“But you said I wasn’t to tell anyone. Why were you supposed to tell her?”
“Because she’s the police and she trusted that I was helping her to find who killed Connie. I think, she thinks I betrayed her.”
“Did you?”
Gina sighed. “I suppose I did. I had to. I had to protect you.”
“But you didn’t need to. I didn’t do anything to go to jail for.”
“True. But we didn’t know that at the time.”
“Hmm.” Sammy looked out of the window. “Would you still have kept it secret if I had?”
“Sammy, even if you had killed Connie it would have been an accident. You wouldn’t have gone to jail.”
“Then why did we betray Kate?”
“Because I was scared that I’d lose you.”
Sammy frowned. “I don’t understand, you said I wouldn’t go to jail.”
Collide-O-Scope (Norfolk Coast Investigation Stories Book 1) Page 19