At Your Door
Page 21
‘He’s got to be a serious contender,’ Walker said.
Anna nodded. ‘As is the not so honourable MP, Nathan Wolf. We’ve got two suspects from different ends of the social spectrum and Holly had upset each of them. Wolf realised he had a lot to lose after she threatened to publish her story, and Moore wasn’t prepared to let her go even though she didn’t want to be with him. Both are viable motives for murder.’
They were expected by the medical team, and before they were shown to Moore’s room one of the doctors gave them a brief summary of his condition.
‘He’s very lucky. When he was found he was in a coma, due to a cocktail of sleeping pills, antidepressant tablets and too much alcohol. It all amounted to a potentially lethal dose, but he was saved by the trauma team who brought him round and regulated his breathing. Fortunately he didn’t suffer any brain damage or organ failure, and I’m glad to say he should make a complete recovery and will be discharged at the latest tomorrow morning, although I’m not sure he’s happy about that.’
‘Is that because it was a genuine suicide attempt and not an accident?’ Anna asked.
‘That’s what he’s told us, but he’s refused to say what made him do it. I’m assuming that you’re here to talk to him about that.’
A uniformed officer was standing outside Moore’s room to make sure he didn’t do a runner or receive any unwelcome guests.
Holly’s ex was sitting up in bed when the two detectives entered. He’d been told they were coming so he wasn’t surprised to see them. It occurred to Anna that he didn’t look like someone who’d had a close shave with death. His face was alabaster pale and unshaven, the skin damp with a sweaty sheen, but his chocolate brown eyes were clear and alert.
‘So how are you feeling, Mr Moore?’ Anna asked him.
‘Like shit,’ he said.
‘So why did you do it?’
‘Why do you think? The love of my life is dead. Murdered. The last thing I want to do is carry on.’
Anna stepped closer to the bed, shook her head.
‘I reckon it’s more likely that you did it because you can’t live with the guilt,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, while we were waiting for you to wake up, your flat was searched. We now know that you made a habit of following Holly around. We’ve seen all the messages on your laptop and phone, as well as the photos you took without her knowing. You’re an obsessive stalker, Mr Moore, and you’re a liar to boot.’
‘I haven’t lied to you.’
‘But you told us you didn’t go to Holly’s flat on Tuesday night. You said you were in bed at the time she was murdered.’
‘And that’s the truth.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Anna said.
She took out her phone, swiped the screen, brought up the clip of CCTV footage that Prescott had sent to her. She held it up for Moore to see and pressed play.
‘This is from a camera close to Holly’s flat,’ she said, and Moore’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the little screen. ‘It was recorded at ten-fifty on Tuesday evening and captured Holly as she walked along Drummond Street five minutes after leaving her flat. Now watch as suddenly a white Nissan Micra drives up and pulls into the kerb just ahead of her. The front door is thrown open and out pops the driver.’ Anna paused the video with her finger. ‘As you can see, Mr Moore, that driver is you. And before you try to convince us that it’s a case of mistaken identity you should know that we’ve already established that the car is registered to a Mr Paul Mason, whom you’re acquainted with because he happens to be your next-door neighbour. Detective Inspector Walker here spoke to him by phone about an hour ago and he told him he let you borrow the vehicle while he’s away for two weeks in Italy on holiday.’
Moore said nothing so Anna pressed play again and the video resumed.
The clip showed Moore stepping in front of Holly, blocking her path. Words were exchanged and then she stabbed an angry finger against his chest before pushing him to one side and striding along the pavement and out of shot.
Moore then got into the car and drove off in the same direction.
‘We now know that you lied to us when we last spoke to you,’ Anna said. ‘So perhaps you can save us a lot of time and effort now by telling us what happened that night. Did you drag her or coax her into the car further along Drummond Street and then take her somewhere to kill her before dumping her body on the common? And is that why you wanted to die? You just couldn’t live with what you had done to the woman you loved?’
Anna put her phone back in her pocket and Moore turned to face her. His eyes were wet and solemn, his breathing suddenly loud and laboured.
‘You’ve got this all wrong,’ he said. ‘I tried to end it because I can’t bear the thought of never seeing her again. It’s as simple as that. I’m not a murderer.’
‘But why should we believe you?’ Anna told him. ‘You told us you stayed at home on that night.’
‘It was a mistake. I didn’t want you to know that I went to Camden because I knew you’d just assume I’d killed her. And I didn’t.’
‘So why did you go there?’
He shrugged. ‘I was at home watching the telly and dreading the thought of going to bed because I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. As usual I was pining after Holly and kept thinking about how much better my life was when we were together. I decided that since I had Paul’s car I might as well make use of it. So I drove to Camden. I had to park up the road from Holly’s block and walk to it.
‘I waited across the street having a smoke while trying to pluck up the courage to go and see if she was in. But then I spotted her landlord sitting on his balcony. He was looking right at me. We knew each other because I’d had a run-in with him before. When I realised he’d noticed me too I walked back to the car and sat inside it for a half hour or so smoking another fag.
‘I was about to drive off when I saw Holly hurrying past me on the other side of the road. I couldn’t believe it. By the time I’d got the engine started she’d turned into Drummond Street and that’s where I caught up with her. I asked her where she was going and she told me to mind my own business. Then I asked her to go for a drink with me, and that’s when she poked me in the chest and walked around me.’
He shut his eyes then and clamped his lips together, as though he had run out of words. Anna prodded him to continue.
‘We know you got back in the car and went after her,’ she said. ‘So tell us what happened next.’
He opened his eyes, heaved a breath. ‘I was going to give it one more try but I didn’t get the chance. A little further along Drummond Street I saw her flag down a passing black cab. I was curious to know where she was going so like an idiot I tried to follow her. But being London it proved impossible. The taxi turned into Hampstead Road, but there was a ton of traffic even at that time and black cabs were everywhere. So I soon lost it and drove home instead.’
Anna didn’t know whether to believe him or not. But she did know she would need more than the CCTV footage to charge him with Holly’s murder.
‘We can’t take what you’ve told us at face value,’ she said. ‘We need to check out your version of events. For your information, officers will by now have impounded Mr Mason’s car from outside your flat and it’ll be subjected to a thorough forensic examination. We will also be rounding up more CCTV footage to try to determine if the vehicle was in the area of Barnes Common on Tuesday. While these procedures are being carried out you’ll have to remain in our custody. Officers will be standing outside this door until you’re discharged tomorrow and we’ll review the situation then. Is there anything else you would like to tell us or ask us before we go, Mr Moore?’
He pushed his head back against the pillow and said, ‘Just that I’m sorry I’m still alive. Next time I’ll make sure that no busybody can come along and fuck things up.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Anna suggested grabbing a light lunch in the hospit
al cafeteria so they could eat and discuss their next move. The place was packed, but they managed to find a table for two, which Anna saved while Walker went to get coffees and sandwiches.
When she checked her phone, she saw she had two messages. The first was a text from Tom, reminding her that he was spending the day with his daughter Grace in Portsmouth and that he would be staying at his own flat tonight, but would call later.
They rarely shared a bed on Sunday nights because he needed time on his own to prepare his workload for the week ahead. That was another reason she was hesitant about him moving in. He often worked from home, but her house wasn’t big enough to allocate him his own office. So it would mean sharing with her in what used to be Chloe’s bedroom.
And she wasn’t keen – not just because the room was small and already cluttered with her own books and files, many related to the search for her daughter. It was also where she sat for hours at a time when she was alone in the house, thinking about Chloe and talking to the photos of her that were plastered over the walls.
It was their room. Hers and Chloe’s. Mother and daughter. She just wasn’t sure how she would feel if Tom put his own stamp on it.
The second message was from the guy at Channel Four, asking if she had time to meet him at some point next week to discuss the proposed documentary.
She was just as anxious as he was to get the ball rolling on that, but she replied that it might not be possible because she was tied up with the Holly Blake murder investigation. She said that she would have to get back to him.
‘They’ve run out of bacon so I got you a cheese sandwich,’ Walker said, when he returned to the table. ‘Hope that’s all right.’
‘As long as there’s pickle in it,’ she said.
He grinned. ‘There is.’
As they started tucking in, Anna said, ‘A couple of hours ago my money was on Nathan Wolf. I thought we’d delivered a knock-out blow with the blood-spattered driving licence. But now I’m not so sure. Ross Moore just didn’t convince me that he was telling the truth.’
‘What are the chances of tracing the black cab he says Holly got into?’ Walker asked.
Anna shook her head. ‘We’ll put out an appeal and gather up as much CCTV as we can in Drummond Street and Hampstead Road, but this was five nights ago, and there are nearly twenty thousand black taxis operating in London.’
‘Let’s assume for a minute that he’s not lying, guv. If she did go off in one then it could be that she got the driver to take her to her final destination, the place where she was murdered.’
‘And that gives rise to another disturbing possibility,’ Anna said. ‘What if it was the cabbie who killed her? It might be we’ve been wrong to focus virtually all our attention on people she knew.’
‘I don’t think we’re wrong, guv. We homed in on Wolf and Moore for good reason. There’s a whole host of compelling factors that make them both prime suspects. In the case of the MP we have at least one piece of physical evidence, Holly’s driving licence. And we only have his word that he went straight home when he returned to London from Somerset.
‘So it’s conceivable that Holly did agree to meet him, but at a neutral location, and that was where she was going when she left her flat. I mean, it’s hard to believe she went out that late in the evening if she didn’t have somewhere to go.’
According to her landlord, Holly arrived home at about ten-thirty after visiting her parents in Pimlico. It had to be assumed that she was pretty upset after the argument with her mum. So what prompted her to leave the flat again fifteen minutes later? Her phone records had been analysed and she hadn’t made or received any calls during that time.
Was it possible that she had simply decided to go for a stroll to clear her head and by sheer coincidence her ex-boyfriend happened to be lurking outside at the time? Or had she decided to pay someone a surprise visit and travel there by taxi?
‘Unless and until we can prove that Moore is lying about the black taxi then we need to treat it as a major new line of enquiry,’ Walker said.
Anna knew he was right. Attacks by taxi drivers in London had increased in recent years. They usually took place late at night and the victims were invariably young women.
Anna was reminded of the case of John Worboys, the so-called Black Cab Rapist, who was convicted and jailed for attacking twelve of his female passengers, but there were claims he’d raped many more.
The pathologist was convinced that Holly hadn’t been sexually assaulted, but perhaps her killer had been motivated by some other uncontrollable urge.
‘We’d better get the team working on it,’ Anna said, then took a bite out of her sandwich before making the call.
It was DC Niven who answered at MIT headquarters. She told him to put her on speaker and gather the rest of the team together so that they could hear what she had to say.
She began by summarising the interview with Ross Moore.
‘He claims that Holly got into a taxi in Drummond Street just before eleven,’ she said. ‘This would have been a matter of seconds after he was caught on CCTV stopping her next to the Micra. We need to find out if that particular street camera and any others in the area captured the taxi as well.’
‘I wouldn’t bank on it, ma’am,’ Niven said. ‘We’ve had some more footage in from there but the Micra doesn’t appear. It’s partly down to the fact that some of the cameras aren’t operating, for various reasons.’
‘Well, expand the search,’ Anna said. ‘And at the same time get the press office to put out an appeal aimed at black cab drivers. There’s always the outside chance that we’ll strike lucky and that particular driver, if he or she exists, will see it.’
She wanted to know if the Micra had been impounded and was told it had. But the forensics crew had only just started working on it.
‘Has DS Prescott got an update for me on the mystery woman who was seen leaving the King’s Head pub with Theo Blake?’ Anna asked.
‘Indeed I have,’ Prescott said. ‘I just got back from there. The woman’s name is Charlene Hamilton and she works behind the bar in the pub. She isn’t working today, but the proprietor, a Mr Ted Somerville, said she’s been open with them about seeing a married man for the past few months. They know his name is Theo but they don’t know who his wife is, presumably because Charlene didn’t want that getting out.
‘Theo apparently popped into the pub a few times when Charlene’s shifts were about to end. The last time was on Tuesday night. Anyway, the woman lives a couple of streets away from the pub, but when we called there she wasn’t in. DC Flynn has stayed outside her place in the car in case she turns up. I’ve been given a mobile number for Charlene, but she hasn’t picked up yet. I’ll keep trying.’
‘OK, keep across that and let me know when you’ve spoken to her. Meanwhile, we’ll be leaving the hospital soon and I want to have a full case review when we get back. On the way we’ll pop along to Pimlico to see how Rebecca Blake is doing. I want to ask her some more questions, including if she can shed any light on Holly’s driving licence.’
‘Before you go, ma’am, I’ve got something for you.’
Anna recognised the voice as belonging to DC Sweeny.
‘So what is it, Megan?’ she said.
‘Well, I’ve been going through Holly’s mobile phone records and I’ve spotted something that contradicts what we’ve been told.’
‘Go on.’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but the family insisted they knew nothing about Holly’s relationship with Nathan Wolf before she turned up at her mother’s house and told them.’
‘You’re not wrong,’ Anna said. ‘Robert Gregory told me that Holly had never let on about it.’
‘Well, it seems that she did,’ Sweeny said. ‘I’ve come across a text exchange between Holly and her aunt Freya. Holly asks Freya not to tell her mother that she’s involved with Nathan Wolf.’
‘When was this?’
‘Nine months ago.’
&n
bsp; ‘Then forward the messages to me straight away,’ Anna said. ‘Or better still paste them onto a single document and send that as an attachment. Then find out if Freya and her husband are still at Rebecca’s house. If not they might be at home so let me have the address. I need to pay them a visit.’
CHAPTER FORTY
Freya Gregory had stayed at her sister’s house until late on Friday night, according to the Family Liaison Officer. She and her husband Robert had then returned home, shortly after he was released on police bail following the attack on Nathan Wolf.
The couple lived in a detached house overlooking Hurlingham Park, Fulham. It was a smart, two-storey property with its own driveway and a front-facing balcony.
Anna hadn’t called ahead to check that they were in so she was glad to see two cars parked on the driveway – a Toyota Hybrid and a Vauxhall Corsa.
Freya’s face registered a mixture of shock and relief when she answered the door to them.
‘I thought you might be yet another reporter,’ she said. ‘Two have called here already today wanting to speak to Robert about what he did to the MP. I told them to go away.’
‘Is your husband in?’ Anna asked.
‘He is, but he told me that the police had finished with him for now.’
‘This is not to do with the assault, Mrs Gregory. We’re here to talk to both of you.’
‘Is it about Holly’s murder? Has Wolf finally admitted that he did it?’
‘We’d like to come in and discuss it with you if that’s all right.’
Freya gave Anna a long, questioning look before motioning for them to come inside. And in those few moments the detective saw in the woman’s face the strain of the last few days. Her eyes were heavily bloodshot, and the shadows around them had become bigger and darker since they had last met at Rebecca’s house.