by James Raven
But first there were some questions.
‘Why are you hiding out?’ Temple said, addressing himself to Dessler.
The big man shrugged. ‘I’m not hiding. I rent this place. Often stay over when I’m bored with the city.’
‘That’s a lie. Your bent copper friend Jordan told us you were in a panic over what we had unearthed. So you decided to disappear for a while.’
‘That arse doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’
‘We’ve seen a draft of the article that Mayo was writing,’ Temple said. ‘It’s extremely incriminating. We also know about the photos that you sent to Mayo.’
‘He owed me money,’ Dessler snorted.
‘And so when he wouldn’t pay you decided to kill him.’
‘That’s bollocks.’
‘You arranged to visit his house on Saturday night. Jordan told us. And so did Mayo’s girlfriend.’
‘I didn’t go. I swear.’
‘Then maybe you sent one of these morons.’
The other two men looked suitably outraged.
Noakes said, ‘Don’t fucking lay that one on us. We had nothing to do with it.’
Temple jabbed a finger at Dessler. ‘You told me you were at the casino all Saturday evening. But it wasn’t true. We have security video showing that you left early and didn’t return until much later. We also have a tape of you at a city centre pub. You called Mayo from there.’
Dessler nodded. ‘Look, I called Mayo on Friday to ask him what he thought about the photos. They had him worried and he agreed to stop writing that fucking feature about me. He said he’d square it with his partner by telling Cain that the evidence he’d gathered wasn’t safe and therefore they should drop the piece. He didn’t think Cain would have a major objection to it.’
‘And what about the money?’
‘He agreed to pay me an instalment of a few grand. I said I’d collect it on Saturday. But I got involved so I called from the pub to cancel. Said I’d pick it up on Monday.’
‘So where did you go after leaving the pub? There’s a gap of several hours during which Mayo was murdered.’
Dessler shook his head. ‘I was doing the rounds. Collecting money from the girls. You can ask them. I’ve got names. I dropped in on two more houses and a pub. It’s what I do every Saturday night. I didn’t have time to go to the forest.’
‘So why come here?’ Temple said. ‘And don’t give me bullshit about being bored.’
‘Look, when you turned up at my flat I was gobsmacked to hear about Mayo. Honest. But straight away I could see where it was going. I knew I’d be a prime suspect and you would start digging into my affairs. I reckoned it was only a matter of time before you hauled me in and I’d be banged up on a raft of fucking charges. I was also worried that once you had me you’d try to pin the murder on me and lose interest in catching the real killer. So I decided to lie low for a bit and sort out a few things.’
Temple had to admit he sounded convincing, but then the really smart criminals always did. It was their nature. Part of their make-up.
‘Where’s Cain?’ Temple said after a moment.
Dessler shrugged expansively. ‘I have not the slightest idea. I’ve never even met the guy.’
‘But he knew as much as Mayo did about your activities,’ Temple said. ‘They worked together. He was involved in the article that was going to expose you.’
‘That maybe so, but my gripe was with Mayo.’
‘So you have no idea where he’s gone?’
‘None, but from what I’ve heard he’s the one who whacked Mayo and you know it, so I don’t know why you’re hassling me.’
Temple sucked in air through his nostrils. He felt his anger mounting. This wasn’t going well.
‘Did any of you lot pay a visit to Jennifer Priest’s flat last night?’ he said, knowing it was a shot in the dark.
The three men exchanged glances. It was Dessler who spoke. ‘Why would we do that?’
‘Maybe you’ve taken the view that she’s inherited her boyfriend’s debt.’
‘Don’t talk crap.’ Dessler said. ‘None of us has been near the Priest girl.’
‘Is that a fact?’
‘It’s a fact, Inspector. And I can tell you now that you won’t get another word out of any of us until I’ve spoken to a lawyer.’
Temple knew there was no point continuing, at least not here. ‘Then I’m taking you all down to the station,’ he said. ‘You can call your lawyers from there before the formal interviews.’
‘You’ll be wasting your time,’ Dessler said.
‘We’ll see about that.’
Temple signalled to the uniforms to take the three men out. He followed them, his mind in turmoil, a queasy hollowness in the pit of his stomach. To say that he was disappointed with the outcome of the raid would be an understatement.
On the way back to the station he reflected on what Dessler had said. It was clear that he had threatened and blackmailed Vince Mayo. But it was unlikely that he’d killed him. His alibi would be checked out, of course, and they’d seek to bring a variety of charges against him, but it was almost certain that a murder charge wouldn’t be one of them.
Temple stared out of the window of the squad car, his mood matching the gloomy grey of the sky. So what now? he asked himself. Was it time to concentrate all their efforts on finding Cain and forget about chasing down other leads? It was the obvious route to take. The reporter was still the only viable suspect and the evidence against him continued to stack up. But there were still too many loose ends. Too many unanswered questions. Maybe jealousy wasn’t the motive. Maybe Cain hadn’t acted alone. Temple racked his brain going back over the evidence and all the interviews they’d conducted. What hadn’t they done?
He took out his notebook and started making a list of questions. Was Dessler telling the truth? Was DC Jordan more involved than he was letting on? Who or what had caused Jennifer Priest to flee from her flat?
This last question triggered a snap of electricity in his brain. He recalled checking Jennifer’s landline to see if someone had phoned her during the evening. But he wondered whether anyone had checked her mobile. Maybe she’d received a call on that and it had spooked her. He recalled that he had mentioned it to her father, but Priest was in such a state at the time that he probably didn’t take it in. Temple whipped out his phone and rang Angel.
‘I was just about to call you, guv,’ she said.
‘I’m on my way in,’ he told her. ‘I want you to do something for me. Get the call log on Jennifer Priest’s mobile phone. See if she had any calls last night before she bolted from her flat and had the accident.’
‘I’ll get on to it right away, guv. Meanwhile there’s something you should know. Bill Nadelson turned up at his cottage a short time ago. He’s been arrested and they’re bringing him in.’
46
When Temple got back to the station he told the duty inspector to process Dessler and his crew and put them in the cells until he was ready to begin formal interviews.
‘And let them call their lawyers,’ he said.
He went to the briefing room. It was half-empty. Angel was seated at her desk poring over documents.
‘Have you managed to get Jennifer’s phone log?’ he asked.
She looked up and nodded. ‘Just going through it now, guv.’
‘And?’
‘Well, no joy really. She didn’t receive any calls all day yesterday on her mobile.’
‘Shit.’
Feeling tired and bad tempered, Temple stalked along to his office and helped himself to a couple of painkillers. His head was buzzing and he could feel a gnawing in his stomach. He checked his watch, conscious of the fact that with every minute that passed there was an increased chance that things would not turn out well for Mrs Cain and her daughter.
After a few minutes he was told that Bill Nadelson had arrived. The old man was assigned a duty solicitor named Parker, a tall, thin guy in his t
hirties. Nadelson looked tired and nervous when he was led into the interview room to face Temple. He started chewing on his fingernails and refused the offer of a cup of tea. He was wearing a rumpled white shirt with a frayed collar and looked haggard and stooped.
‘Where have you been today, Mr Nadelson?’
He raked a hand through his thin grey hair. ‘I went to my son’s. I was too upset to stay at my house. What is it I’m supposed to have done? What’s all this about?’
‘I think you know that,’ Temple said.
‘No I don’t. I arrived home and was arrested before I even let myself in. The officers refused to say what it was about.’
And so the grilling began. Temple watched Nadelson’s face as he questioned him about the money and the jewellery that had been found in the suitcase under his bed. His shocked expression was a picture. He bit his bottom lip and furrowed his brow. His face lost colour and he clearly had a problem swallowing.
‘We know it doesn’t belong to you,’ Temple said. ‘We know you took it from Mr Mayo’s house.’
The sheen of fear in Nadelson’s slate-grey eyes was unmistakable. At last he cleared the obstruction in his throat and said, ‘I didn’t kill Vince. I swear. I found him just like I said I did.’
‘But why should we believe you?’ Temple said. ‘You lied to us. You stole the money and jewellery, didn’t you?’
Nadelson drew air through his teeth and clamped his eyes shut. Pearls of sweat popped up above his top lip.
‘I’ve a mind to charge you with murder right now,’ Temple said.
Nadelson opened his eyes, alarm writ large in his expression. He threw a glance at his solicitor, but Parker just shrugged his shoulders.
Temple narrowed his eyes at Nadelson, studying his face. ‘I meant what I said. You’re facing a charge of murder. The motive: robbery.’
And that did it. Nadelson started talking. What he’d told them before was all true, he said. He’d seen the dark car speed away from his neighbour’s cottage. He’d gone to investigate. Found the body. Called the police.
‘But when I was in the house I saw the money,’ he said. ‘It was on the worktop in the kitchen. A wedge of twenty-pound notes. I don’t know what came over me. I went back inside and picked it up, put it into my pocket. I thought you would assume that the killer took it. It was a mistake. I know that now.’
Temple leaned forward. ‘And what about the jewellery?’
He crimped his lips and placed his hands flat on the table, palms down.
‘Vince showed me his mother’s jewellery a while ago,’ he said. ‘You see, I’m a retired jeweller. He wanted me to give him a rough valuation. I told him it was worth in total about five thousand pounds. I advised him to put it in a safe-deposit box after he told me he kept it in his bedside drawer and I told him that was foolish.’
‘So you decided to take it along with the cash?’
He nodded. ‘I knew both his parents were dead. I didn’t think anyone would notice.’
Temple angled his head slightly. ‘How do we know that you didn’t kill Mr Mayo to get your hands on the money and the jewellery?’
‘He was dead when I found him,’ he insisted. ‘That’s the truth. I had a moment of weakness. I’m deeply ashamed of myself. But I’m not a killer.’
Temple believed him. All the same, he questioned Nadelson for another fifteen minutes, going over his story in minute detail, pushing and probing at his explanation and his character. Had he stolen anything before? What had he been going to do with the jewellery?
Nadelson looked a wreck by the time it was over, his face ashen. But that served him right, Temple thought. What he’d done was shameful but what he clearly hadn’t done was kill his neighbour, which meant that the focus of the inquiry remained firmly with Cain.
Shoulders slumped, Temple walked out into the corridor where Angel was waiting to speak to him. She held up a sheet of paper.
‘I was just coming to get you, guv,’ she said. ‘I’ve found something.’
‘I hope it’s good,’ Temple said. ‘Because I’m feeling monumentally pissed off just now.’
‘This is a print-out of Jennifer Priest’s mobile phone record.’
‘So? I thought you said she had no calls yesterday.’
‘She didn’t, guv, but I had the feeling that there was something not quite right about the list of calls and a minute ago it came to me.’
‘Well, come on, detective. Don’t keep me in bloody suspense. What is it?’
47
‘Don’t fucking move,’ the kidnapper yelled. ‘Just stay where you are.’
Maggie froze. She had been about to rush around the sofa to where Danny was lying on the floor, blood seeping from a gash on the back of his head.
But now her attention was focused on the revolver in the kidnapper’s hand which he had used to beat Danny unconscious. The gun was levelled at her chest and she didn’t doubt that he’d pull the trigger if she gave him cause. Laura was clinging to her mother’s waist, her fingers digging into the flesh above her belt.
The kidnapper stepped over Danny. He grabbed Laura by the arm and jerked her towards him. Laura gave a startled yelp and tried to hold on to her mother. But her fingers lost their grip and as Maggie attempted to pull her back she found herself staring into the muzzle of the gun.
‘Stop there,’ the man said.
The muzzle was inches from Maggie’s forehead. The man’s hand was shaking. There was a feral anger in his eyes. Maggie felt her blood run cold as he put his hand over Laura’s mouth and pulled her close. Her little girl’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets and she grabbed frantically at his sleeve.
‘Be sensible, Mrs Cain,’ he said. ‘I will hurt her if you don’t do as I say.’
Maggie put up her hands, palms out.
‘Please don’t. You’re scaring her.’
He nodded towards the door.
‘Go and get the cuffs. Bring them to me along with the keys.’
Laura stopped struggling. He took his hand away from her mouth and put his arm around her neck. She was stiff with fear.
‘Mummy,’ she cried, terror distorting her features.
‘Be still, sweetheart,’ Maggie said. ‘I won’t be long.’
Maggie threw a glance at Danny. He was still sprawled on the floor, face up, eyes closed.
‘Do it now,’ the kidnapper yelled.
Maggie had to think about it. Where were the handcuffs? They had taken them off in the loft. She hurried upstairs, ascended the ladder into the loft. She retrieved the two pairs of cuffs, releasing them from the chains that had secured them to the stanchions. When she walked back into the living room she saw that the kidnapper had tied Laura’s hands in front of her with duct tape. She was sitting on the floor just inside the door.
‘Come here,’ he told Maggie.
He put the cuffs on her wrists and ordered her to sit next to Laura. Then he pulled Danny’s hands across his chest and put the other pair of cuffs on him. He straightened himself and stared down at Danny. Slowly he raised his weapon and aimed it at Danny’s face.
‘I should blow his fucking brains out here and now,’ he snarled through the mask.
‘Please don’t,’ Maggie pleaded. ‘He’s my husband. I love him.’
The kidnapper lifted his head, his dark eyes locking on to hers.
‘Is that a fucking joke?’ he yelled. ‘If you cared about him you wouldn’t have been screwing his partner.’
Maggie felt her heart stop. Her breath snagged in her throat.
‘Don’t act so surprised,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen pictures of you and Mayo at it. You’d been having an affair for months. Shagging behind your husband’s back. And then you have the front to act like the loyal, caring wife.’
Maggie was dumbstruck. How did he know? What was going on?
Then she remembered the man with the camera in the forest.
‘In fact I can let you in on a little secret,’ he said. ‘Those pictures
were the reason your boyfriend was killed. And it’s why you and your family are here now. So it follows that you, Mrs Cain, are ultimately responsible for all that’s happened. How does that make you feel?’
Maggie’s head started to spin. A pain erupted in her chest. Oh God, she thought, this can’t really be happening. It’s too awful. She turned to Laura. Her daughter was staring at her, wide-eyed and confused. She wanted to say something to her. Anything. But the words wouldn’t come. In that moment Maggie felt ugly and vile and wicked. She didn’t think she could possibly feel any worse.
But she was wrong.
As she wrenched her gaze away from Laura, she looked instinctively at Danny, lying on the floor.
His eyes were open and he was looking up at her with a stricken expression on his face.
48
Temple went straight to A&E when he got to the hospital. He was told that Jennifer Priest had been moved to a private room on the first floor. He hurried up the stairs. The hospital was busy with scores of people milling around. Visitors. Medical staff. Patients in dressing-gowns, some of them wheeling around intravenous drips.
At the first-floor reception he identified himself to a plump nurse with bleached blond hair.
‘I’m a police officer. You have a patient, Jennifer Priest. Where is she?’
The nurse eyed his card. ‘She’s in a room down the corridor on the left.’
‘I need to speak to her.’
‘I’m not sure that’s possible. I’ll have to page the doctor.’
‘Then do it now.’
As she reached for the phone Temple checked his watch. It was 4.15 p.m. It was almost forty-eight hours since Vince Mayo had been murdered. They were two days into an investigation that had taken more twists and turns than he cared to think about.