“Are you going to arrest Jon? I bet he did this. He’s a right weird one. Sometimes he acts like he doesn’t even know me. Walks right past me in the street as if I don’t exist, he does.”
“We’ll certainly look into Mr Miller’s whereabouts for the time of the crime. Thank you, you’ve been very helpful.”
Paolo waited while Dave put his notebook away and then headed downstairs.
“What did you make of him?” Paolo asked, as soon as he was sure they were out of earshot.
“He’s certainly got it in for the brother, but maybe he has good reason. Sounds like these two are definitely the ones in the trial Andrea is reading up on.”
Paolo nodded. “There’s no doubt about it. We need to track down the brother.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult, sir. There can’t be many porters at the hospital called Jon Miller.”
A uniformed officer tapped Paolo on the shoulder.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I think you should see this.”
They went back into the lounge to see the sideboard had been moved. On a sheet of plastic, the contents of a parcel lay exposed. Several vials of insulin lay in a small heap. The label showed the parcel was addressed to Jon Miller.
“I swear this case gets weirder by the day,” Paolo said. “If he killed his brother, why leave this sort of evidence behind? It’s like Conrad Stormont all over again.”
“Sir?” Dave said, a look of confusion on his face.
“The evidence pointed so strongly to Stormont that it made me think it couldn’t possibly be him. Then he turns up as one of the victims. Now the finger is pointing so firmly at Jon Miller, I’m not sure I believe it.”
“Maybe the other killings were planned, but this one was done in anger. Maybe he killed his brother and ran off, forgetting about the insulin he’d stashed.”
Paolo sighed. “Now that I can believe, but does that mean this is the final killing? Is this number six, or is there still one more to go? Let’s get back to the station and let CC and Andrea know what we’ve found.”
As they stepped outside, Paolo heard a window being opened above and looked up. Gordon Fairbairn’s body appeared and he was pointing into the crowd on the other side of the tape barrier.
“There he is,” he yelled. “That’s the bastard who killed my friend.”
Paolo looked to where Gordon was pointing just in time to see a man turn and run.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Paolo put down the phone and went to double-check with Andrea that the man they’d caught running from the crime scene was the same as the person involved in the court case she was studying. Dave and CC were with Andrea, looking over some paperwork on her work station.
She looked up as he approached. “I was just showing the others, sir. All the victims’ names have appeared in the transcript, even the brother’s. The only exception being the surgeon, Edwin Fulbright.”
“Can you give me the full name and date of birth of the young man at the centre of the case and that of his brother?”
“Yes, sir, I’ve written down all the principal players and their details. Jon Miller’s date of birth is 24th June 1978. His brother, Andrew, was a couple of years younger. He was born on 12th January 1980.”
Paolo jotted down the dates. “We’ve got Jon Miller in interrogation room three. According to the upstairs neighbour he frequently threatened to kill his brother. Certainly running away as he did makes him look guilty, but let’s see what he’s got to say. It will be interesting to hear his views on the parcel behind the sideboard containing the insulin.”
Dave grinned. “You think he’ll come up with a convincing story?”
“Not really, but he’s going to have to tell us something. Dave, you come with me while I have a chat with Mr Miller. Andrea, carry on with the transcript. If you find anything that might be useful while we’re questioning Jon Miller, bring it down.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, “but I’m only about halfway into the trial at the moment. It’s going to take me a couple of days to get to the end.”
“No problem,” Paolo said. “Judging by what we have so far, holding Jon Miller for as long as we need isn’t going to be a problem.”
Paolo and Dave entered the interrogation room to find Jon slumped face down on the table. Paolo had been expecting to see a solicitor at his side, but he was alone.
Paolo turned to the officer on duty. “Has he been offered the services of a legal adviser?”
“Yes, sir, but he says he doesn’t want one.”
Jon looked up at that, his face was white and haggard, making him look much older than the thirty-five years of age Paolo knew him to be.
“I don’t need a solicitor. I haven’t done anything wrong. I went to collect my stuff and couldn’t understand why the police were there. Then that idiot upstairs starting yelling that I’d killed Andy. I didn’t kill him. I haven’t been back to the flat for days.”
Paolo pulled out a chair and sat down. Dave leaned against the wall, arms folded.
Flicking the switch on the recorder, Paolo gave the date, time and names of those present.
“For the record, Mr Miller has declined legal representation. Could you please confirm that for the tape, Mr Miller?”
Jon nodded.
“In words, please, sir.”
“I don’t want a solicitor,” Jon said. “I don’t even understand why I’m here. Someone’s killed my brother and you’re wasting time talking to me.”
“We have a few questions we’d like to put you to, that’s all. After you’ve given us your answers, you’ll probably be free to go home.”
“Probably?”
Paolo smiled. “It depends on how helpful you are. Let’s start with why you ran away.”
Jon shrugged. “I don’t know. It was the police tape and Gordon yelling. I took fright, that’s all.”
“But why?”
“I just said, I don’t know.”
“Okay,” Paolo said, “would you like to explain the insulin you had hidden behind your sideboard?”
Jon frowned. “What insulin? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Paolo nodded and the police officer placed a plastic evidence bag on the table.
“I’m showing Mr Miller the parcel and its contents uncovered during a search of his home. The parcel contains several vials of insulin.”
“That’s nothing to do with me,” Jon said.
“But it’s addressed to you and paid for on your credit card,” Paolo pointed out.
“Then I expect Andy ordered it. He was always buying stuff on my card.”
Paolo looked down at his notes. “Was he diabetic?”
“What? No, not as far as I know.”
“I thought you lived together,” Paolo said. “You must know if he was or he wasn’t.”
“He wasn’t,” Jon said.
“But you think he bought insulin anyway? Why?”
“I don’t know and I don’t understand why you’re going on about it. What has that got to do with Andy’s death?”
Paolo tapped the file on the table. “Because it seems very likely your brother was killed by an overdose of insulin. Now perhaps you can see why we are very interested in the insulin we found addressed to you and paid for by you.”
Jon sat back. “I didn’t order it and I didn’t kill him.”
Paolo took out a sheet of dates. “Perhaps you could tell us where you were yesterday morning?”
“I was at work.”
“Is there anyone who can vouch for that?”
“My supervisor, Iain, but…”
“But?” Paolo prompted.
“He might not tell the truth.”
“Why not?”
“We haven’t always got on. He blames me for something that happened to his cousin years ago.”
Paolo made a note of the man’s name. “Did no one else see you?”
Jon shook his head. “No, we had a big row and I stormed out.
”
“I see,” Paolo said. “Where did you go after that?”
“I just walked around thinking about stuff. I went to the park.”
“Can anyone there vouch for you?”
Jon shook his head. “I wasn’t feeling very sociable.”
“Okay, let’s move on. Can you tell me where you were on these dates and times? For the record, I am passing Mr Miller a sheet with five dates and times.”
As they went through them one by one, it became apparent that Jon didn’t have alibis for any of the murders apart from the first when he’d been in Leicester for a job interview. Paolo noted the details and passed the piece of paper to the officer.
“Take this to my team and ask one of them to look into it for me, please.”
Paolo waited until the officer closed the door behind him and then turned back to Jon. “Do you still hold a grudge against Conrad Stormont?”
“Who?”
Paolo pointed to the file again. “Don’t be smart, Mr Miller. We know all about the accident and who gave you the medication which caused it. There’s no way you would forget the psychiatrist who put you in that situation.”
“I’m sorry, I really don’t understand. I had forgotten his name, but now you’ve brought it to mind, it’s come back to me. What’s he got to do with Andy?”
Paolo smiled. “Well, he’s also dead as a result of insulin poisoning. As is Professor Edwards who was your consultant, Peter Bishop, your solicitor and Marcus Wittington-Smythe the barrister who acted for you in court. All dead and all killed by an overdose of insulin. Do you still feel Andy’s death isn’t related to these others?”
Jon shook his head. He looked so dumbstruck Paolo was almost tempted to believe he knew nothing, but he’d seen too many criminals able to put on a convincing show of innocence to be taken in without solid proof.
“What can you tell me about Edwin Fulbright?”
“I don’t even know who he is,” Jon said. “You’re just making up names now.”
“No, I can assure you I’m not,” Paolo said. “Did you set out to kill those men, including your own brother, and set up Conrad Stormont as a suspect?”
“No,” Jon cried. “I didn’t kill anyone. I couldn’t. I…” he stopped and Paolo watched as his face showed a thought had occurred to him so fantastic he couldn’t quite believe it.
“What have you remembered?” Paolo asked.
“It’s not that I’ve remembered anything,” Jon said, “but I’ve just realised who could have killed them, but not to point the finger at that psychiatrist. I think it was to set me up.”
Paolo smiled. “That’s a bit far-fetched,” he said. “Who do you think was the master criminal working behind the scenes?”
“My brother,” Jon said.
“So you think a man in a wheelchair—”
“No, you don’t understand. He could walk. It was when I found out that he’d been fooling me for over a year that I threatened to kill him.”
Almost as if he’d realised what he said, Jon subsided. Paolo watched as his shoulders slumped and an air of defeat swamped him.
“And did you?” Paolo asked. “Did you realise what your brother was doing and murder him in the same way as he’d killed the others?”
Jon shook his head. “I’ve already told you. I didn’t kill him.”
There was a tap on the door and the uniformed officer came back in. He handed Paolo a sheet of paper. Paolo smiled.
“It seems there was some mix up with your interview time in Leicester. You turned up several hours too early. That was on the day Professor Edwards was killed. My colleague upstairs has checked with the hospital in Leicester. It seems you called to change the appointment from the morning to the afternoon, but claimed to know nothing about it when you got there.”
“I didn’t change it,” said Jon. “Someone else did.”
Paolo put the paper down in front of Jon. “But, you see, that left you with four to five hours unaccounted for. Plenty of time to come back to Bradchester, kill the professor and then get back to Leicester for your interview.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t kill anyone. Can I go home now?”
Paolo stood up. “Not yet,” he said. “We’ll be back with a few more questions.”
“In that case, I’ve changed my mind,” Jon said. “I want a solicitor before I say anything else.”
“Of course, that’s your right,” Paolo said. “This interview is terminated.”
He added the time and then switched off the recorder.
Outside in the corridor, Paolo turned to Dave. “What do you think?”
Dave shrugged. “I really don’t know. Even if his supervisor gives him an alibi for his brother’s death, he could still be in the frame for the others.”
“I agree, but why did he order the insulin? If he didn’t buy it, did his brother use his card to do so? Why? Too many bloody questions and not enough answers. I know I threw those other names at Jon Miller, but two out of the four actually helped him. His solicitor and barrister must have done a good job to get him off all charges. And we can’t find any connection between him and Edwin Fulbright. The big question now is who killed Andy? It doesn’t fit the pattern of the others, but I still feel it’s part of the same case.”
“Well, Andy was mentioned in the trial, sir.”
“Yes, but as a victim. He didn’t have a part to play other than being named as a passenger in the car. As far as Andrea has discovered, Andy didn’t even appear in court. He was still recovering in hospital.”
“I’m going to call Barbara to see if she can give us a smaller window on time of death. We can’t do too much more until Miller’s solicitor gets here, so see if you can get hold of the supervisor. It will help to know if his alibi for the time of his brother’s death holds water. I’ll see you back here in about an hour.”
Paolo entered his office as his mobile rang. Lydia again. They spent more time talking to each other now than they did when they lived together.
“Lydia, I’m in the middle of an investigation. If you want to yell at me, can you make it quick or call me at home this evening?”
He heard her laugh. “Do I only call to yell at you?”
Before he could think of a tactful way of saying yes, she continued.
“Actually, Paolo, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Really? What for?” he asked, kicking the office door closed behind him.
“For making me realise that I’d gone the wrong way to work with Katy. I took your advice and told her she could bring Danny round this afternoon. He seems to be a nice young man. Not at all what I expected.”
Paolo sat at his desk, put his feet up and smiled. “I am so pleased to hear you say that.”
“They told me what you’d done for his brother and why. Anyway, Paolo, I won’t stay on. I just wanted to say sorry for being a bitch and thank you for everything.”
“Any time. Does this mean I’m allowed to come into the house again? I thought after your last call I might need to wear a bulletproof vest when I faced you.”
“Very funny. Don’t push it or that might still be the case. Come for lunch on Sunday if you’re not doing anything. Katy and Danny are coming and they’re bringing Mark, too, if he can get permission.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t make any promises. I might need to work.”
“I’ll keep a plate of food for you in the microwave. Come over when you’re free.”
“Will do,” Paolo said, ending the call.
He sat for a while, staring up at the cracks in his ceiling. When Lydia was nice, being in her company was a delight, but when she lost her temper there wasn’t enough room in the world to put the right amount of distance between them.
Paolo made his call to Barbara, but she wasn’t able to be more precise, so he headed back into the main office. Dave fell into step beside him.
“The supervisor had already left the hospital,�
� Dave said. “They gave me his home number, but I get the answering machine. I’ve left a message for him to call me.”
“And Barbara couldn’t add to what we already know, so we’re not exactly going in there with much ammo.”
Paolo opened the door to the interrogation room to see a smartly dressed man sitting next to Jon. The man stood up and held out his hand.
“Good evening. I’m Sebastian Phipps, representing Mr Miller. I have to tell you that no interview will be taking place this evening.”
“Oh,” said Paolo, “and why is that?”
“Because my client suffers from dissociative identity disorder and I insist on a psychiatric report before you question him any further.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
On Friday morning, Paolo called his team together. Their frustration was evident, but it was nothing compared to the way he felt. Jon Miller’s supervisor had backed up his alibi, even though it was evident he hadn’t wanted to, but that only cleared Jon of his brother’s death. He didn’t have an alibi for any of the others and, as Andy’s death followed a different pattern to the others, it was possible that someone else had murdered Andy, but used the same means to do so.
“Okay, listen up, everyone. Jon Miller’s solicitor is doing his best to make it difficult for us to keep Jon in custody. He’s pressing for us to either charge Jon or release him. We’re not in a position to do either at the moment, so we desperately need something to help us out.”
He looked round. “Where’s CC?”
“She’s gone to the hospital, sir,” said Andrea. “She wants to try to shake up the person who was looking into Edwin Fulbright’s cases. CC called the department yesterday and got the run-around, so thought the direct approach might achieve more.”
“Good thinking on her part. Let’s hope she comes back with some solid information. How are you doing with the trial transcript?”
“I’m about two-thirds of the way through it. I’ve just got to the part where they are talking about Jon’s brother and the woman who died. You know, position of car at point of impact and estimated speed. The woman was a pedestrian. Her husband says she was on her way to the hospital for a routine check-up when Jon Miller’s car ploughed into her. She suffered a great deal of internal damage, apparently, and died the same night.”
Call It Pretending (#3 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) Page 22