‘No, my colleague is not trying to piss you off,’ Terry said. ‘We’re just trying to piece together the missing parts. Tell us more about Mr Pringle please.’
‘What do you wanna know?’
‘A bit of background… I dunno… What type of person is he?’
‘Martin’s a diamond, he’s my mate, what do you want me to say about him?’ Greg needed to play his game. ‘Put it this way, he’s no mug.’
‘Handy with his fists, is he?’
‘Like I said, Martin’s not a mug.’
‘OK Mr O’Hara, I think we’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you for talking to us,’ Terry smiled, as he stood.
‘We’ll find our own way out!’ McFarland grunted. Greg just looked at the two men, deciding not to say anything.
‘One more thing,’ Terry said, pausing his exit. ‘Do you have any travel plans?’
‘Not that I know of… but then, you never know, with all these last minute bargains that pop up, do you?’
Both detectives left…
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Terry sat looking at the telephone. He did not know who to ring first but someone made the decision for him. He picked up the receiver.
‘Hello,’ his voice sounded exhausted.
‘Hiya darling, I saw it, how are you?’ It was Natalie, her timing was excellent, Terry needed to hear her voice, it was the closest he could get to her right now and it made him feel a bit better.
‘I’m OK. I told them not to.’
‘I know darling. I’ve had to tell mummy. Hold on, she won’t tell anyone. She thought we’d had a bust up, what else could I have said?’
‘Fine, that’s the least of my worries at the moment. Darling, please explain the importance of me remaining anonymous during the investigation. I’m happier knowing that you are with your mother and that you are both safe. We haven’t got a clue how this guy selects his victims, that’s if you can call them that.’
‘I’ll stay here until he is caught if that makes you happy. I know it’s only a matter of time before he’s behind bars. I miss you Terry.’ A single tear drop fell as she announced her feelings.
‘I miss you too darling. It’s for the better that you’re out of the way. He contacted me today. I’ll pop up and spend the weekend with you in a couple of weeks, hey?’ he said, trying to soften the blow of them being apart.
‘You spoke to him? Bloody hell Terry, he’s a cocky git. I won’t pry darling. Sounds good about you coming up in a couple of weeks – catch him quickly. Put that monster behind bars,’ Natalie said angrily.
‘We will. I’ll phone you soon.’
‘I love you darling,’ Natalie said, thinking about how long the next two weeks would feel.
‘I love you too darling. It won’t be too long,’ he said, unconvincingly. Natalie blew him a few kisses down the phone before hanging up.
The phone rang immediately.
‘Hello.’
‘Alright, mate? Was it as bad as it felt? You were ghostly silent when I dropped you off earlier.’ It was McFarland.
‘No, it was fucking bad, mate. You need to keep that bad cop image under control. O’Hara went all defensive as soon as you opened your mouth.’
‘Good cop/bad cop. You know how it works, Terry.’
‘Only when they’re banged to rights. Not just answering a few questions,’ Terry snarled.
‘OK, what did you think about the press conference? We didn’t get time earlier.’
‘No, that was fucking worse. McFarland, you know how to kick a man when he’s down.’ Terry laughed loudly, seeing the irony. ‘The press were laughing their socks off. Jasper made himself look a right fool. He knew sod all about the case and made The Yard look like a bunch of amateurs.’ Terry had every right to feel embarrassed.
‘He had to be there, a senior ranking officer and all that.’
‘Pencil-necks,’ Terry paused. ‘It’s all complete bollocks if you ask me. That bloke will now set out to send us a message, a message to explain what he’s doing and why,’ Terry stopped. ‘Wait a minute.’
‘He’s bound to try to contact us again,’ McFarland said.
‘No he won’t, not yet, he’s far too clever to do anything like that. He’ll leave us a message.’
‘He’ll leave us a clue,’ McFarland said, trying to turn the negative in to a positive.
‘I wouldn’t count on it. Where are you now?’ Terry asked.
‘Not far,’ McFarland quickly mapped his location, ‘about ten minutes away, why?’ he replied.
‘Fancy helping me demolish a bottle of malt, mate?’
‘Aye, I fancy getting pissed tonight. It’d be rude not to accept your invitation,’ the Scotsman replied.
‘Don’t be too long I’m pouring two glasses now,’ Terry said, teasing his long-time friend.
Once McFarland had arrived, the two men talked. Their conversation flowed, as did the ten year old bottle of malt whiskey. As the alcohol worked its way through their bloodstreams, their barriers lowered. Feeling the pressure of the case, they both needed a release; most officers drank heavily when working on demanding cases like this one.
‘What do you think about this nutter, The Ultimate?’ Terry said, struggling with his pronunciation.
‘I think that he’s going to fuck up and lead us to him, they always do, Terry.’
‘We’ve got nothing on him so far. We’ve not even got a clue what he looks like.’
‘Let’s try… I mean…’ McFarland laughed. Both men laughed.
‘Tomorrow’s another day. For all we know, he’s out there now, and… well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘What do you think, from what he said to you Terry?’
‘I think he’s educated, calculated and very much a thinker… and that, my friend, makes him different and very fucking dangerous,’ Terry sighed.
‘Terry, he will fuck up. Listen, mate, they always do.’
‘But how many other victims? We don’t…we can’t afford that time. We can’t allow him time McFarland.’ The full bottle of malt was now empty.
‘I don’t have any answers at the moment…’ McFarland was far too drunk to finish his sentence. It did not matter as Terry had passed out.
***
Terry woke in the chair that he had passed out in, feeling a sharp pain in the back of his neck. McFarland was still asleep. Deciding to allow his friend to wake in his own time, Terry climbed the stairs and emptied his bladder before undressing and stepping under the shower’s hot jets of water.
McFarland woke on hearing Terry’s attempt at Singing in the Rain and put the kettle to boil.
‘What’s the plan for today then?’ McFarland asked, as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
‘I want to talk to Sharon again. Can you arrange it for this morning?’
‘Aye, no probs.’
‘I think I’m going to need to talk to Martin again at some point too.’
‘Today?’
‘Yeah, try and do that this afternoon.’ His mind was preoccupied.
‘No probs,’ the Scotsman replied in a relaxed manner. ‘We can see Sharon at any time this morning as Mr Barnford is with her all morning.’
‘Oh that prat,’ Terry commented. ‘She’s lucky that the death penalty has been outlawed. I wouldn’t wanna put my fate in his hands.’
Both men laughed.
‘Let me use your shower and we’ll be on our way,’ McFarland smiled.
‘OK, mate. I’ll get you some clean towels.’
During the drive to see Sharon, neither man spoke. Once they arrived at Colindale police station, both men were escorted to the interview room where Sharon and her solicitor were eagerly waiting.
‘Good morning Sharon, Mr Barnford,’ Terry smiled, slowly sucking on a mint.
‘Hello,’ Sharon replied. Her solicitor decided to nod while he scribbled something on his note pad.
‘There’s been another murder, Sharon,’ Terry said.
‘Yeah I know, Mr Barnford told me – now do you believe me?’
‘I never doubted you, it’s the jury I doubted,’ Terry smiled.
‘Sharon, what I’m about to ask you may seem a little odd, even a tad unconventional, but please hear me out – you too Mr Barnford,’ Terry smiled. ‘We are going to need to interview you with our other suspect present. What are your thoughts on that?’
‘What?’ Was Barnford’s automated reply, ‘What do you mean? You can’t do that! My client won’t do that. That is an insane suggestion…’ he flustered, still outraged by Terry’s request.
‘Hold on for one moment and listen to what we are suggesting. Both crimes, we believe, are linked. The second suspect or, witness if you’d prefer, well, he’s mirroring your story about the guy in the rubber suit.’
‘I’ve seen it on the news,’ Sharon said quietly.
‘And…’ Terry paused, ‘a man has contacted me, claiming to be the man in the shiny suit.’
‘How did he contact you?’ Barnford was intrigued.
‘That’s not important, it could be a prank,’ Terry knew it was not. ‘What’s imperative to our investigation is that we get you both together in the same room, with your respective legal representation. Just to see if you would be able to bring something to light that may have been overlooked.’
‘This is outrageous,’ Barnford exclaimed, ‘a man has contacted you confessing and you want to interrogate my client.’
‘Mr Barnford, please calm down… firstly, this man did not confess to anything, and secondly, as I stated, this could have been a prank. We get them all the time,’ Terry said, trying to bring the tempo down. ‘This is the black and white of where we are. Your client is going to be spending some time behind bars; all we want to do is catch the orchestrator of these hideous crimes and ensure the safety of the public. Now, if we don’t catch him, firstly, there’ll be more blood spilt, and secondly, your client will be charged with murder. With the orchestrator in custody, we could get the charge lowered to involuntary manslaughter. You’ll be out before your baby reaches double figures. We are here to work together, as a team. Without your help we are blind.’
‘Can we have some time to discuss this?’ Barnford asked.
‘Of course,’ Terry replied. Barnford indicated that Terry and McFarland should leave the room. Both men waited in the corridor.
‘It’s the old rock and a hard place, and they both know it,’ Terry confided to McFarland.
‘Aye, that we know… but Barnford’s a fucking prick and he can’t see the bigger picture here.’
‘But Sharon will, my friend… Sharon will.’
Barnford poked his head out from behind the door and said, ‘You can come back in now.’
They both went back in to the room and sat down.
‘My client has decided that she would be happy to co-operate. But she needs some reassurances from you.’
‘I’m listening,’ Terry said leaning forward.
‘That, at the most, she is only charged with involuntary manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility. Now my client wants to see this man behind bars as much as you do. That said, my client does not want to miss her daughter growing and maturing so a minimal custodial sentence would be what we are aiming for.’
‘I can pull a few strings with the CPS but let’s concentrate on the matter in-hand.’
‘Who’s the CPS?’ Sharon interrupted.
‘The CPS is also known as the Crown Prosecution Service, Sharon. All the evidence surrounding any legal case or investigation has to be put to them. They decide whether you have to face criminal proceedings. Now, we tell them what we intend to charge you with, under certain sections of the Criminal Code of Justice, they impartially look at what evidence we provide them, and they make a decision,’ Terry replied. ‘Now, we can apply for a lesser charge, in your case and we can suggest a minimal sentence on the grounds of your co-operation. In other words…’ Terry paused. ‘Put it this way, we can do our best to see that you don’t spend too many years behind bars…’ Terry paused again, this time to clear his throat. ‘What we are suggesting you do to help us is, let’s say, very unconventional, so please understand that what we are asking you to do can never be revealed. If it is, the whole case will be thrown out leaving the orchestrator to continue to roam free and continue his reign of terror and the CPS will then look at you and the other person we have in custody. I must tell you now that we have not spoken to the other person about this proposal but we are sure that he will agree as he has declined his right to legal representation, which indicates that he wants to help us as much as he can.’ Terry’s back was against the wall.
‘Though this goes against the grain,’ Barnford began, ‘my client and I think that if this unorthodox style of investigation brings this case to a speedy resolution, and, of course, my client gets the minimal custodial sentence we agreed, then we would be delighted to assist you. My client fully understands the implications of any of the contents of the investigating interviews being leaked and assures me that any leaks will not come from her side of the table. To protect my client’s best interest, we would need a legally binding document, signed by both parties. My client must have reassurances, you understand?’
‘You watch too much television Mr Barnford?’ McFarland scoffed.
‘What my colleague is trying to say, Mr Barnford, is this: our word is enough. Deals made for co-operation have only ever been verbal, if anything is put on paper, then that changes from, co-operation to coercion.’ Barnford felt small, like he was back in the classroom.
‘Sharon, we need to know… sorry I’ll start again. We need to hear what you think, and what you know about the second murder,’ Terry spoke softly.
‘I don’t want to go to prison and be away from my baby. I want to help you find that bloke. I don’t know how, cos I don’t know what you want me to tell you, I don’t know fuck all. I only know what I saw on the telly. What that Scottish copper said, and what that bloke on the news said, that’s all I know.’
‘Are you sure that you understand what we are asking of you, and that you are comfortable with what we are suggesting?’
‘If Mr Barnford says it’s alright, then it’s alright.’
‘The other thing we would like to do, is to show you a model of the first crime scene and have you talk us through it.’
Sharon turned her head and looked at Barnford, the fear evident in her eyes. ‘I don’t want to relive that fucking nightmare again, do I Mr Barnford. Do I have to?’
‘My client…’ Barnford began.
‘That’s fine. If at any time there is anything that you are not happy with, please just let us know,’ Terry interrupted, cutting Barnford off in his stride. Terry just needed to see Sharon’s reaction. She had been far too quiet.
A knock on the door interrupted them. McFarland left the room in order to find out why. As soon as he returned, he looked at Terry. ‘It seems there have been some developments. Can we pick this up another time, or have we finished here? I’m sure Sharon could do with a break?’ McFarland said, nodding at Terry.
‘Yes, I agree, that would be fine. Please keep me abreast of the proposed joint interviews,’ Barnford said, as he helped Sharon to her feet.
‘But of course,’ Terry replied. The two detectives stayed in the room, waiting for Sharon and her solicitor to leave.
‘What’s happened?’ Terry asked eagerly.
‘A young male has walked in to West Hendon police station and wants to talk to us about Hector.’
‘Who is this guy?’
‘Only one way to find out.’
‘I’m going to need to see the pathologist’s report on Hector… Oh, and I’m going to need to know what Hector’s mobile number is, or was.’
‘We can pick that up later. I’ll phone a mate of mine now but I think we should go and see this bloke at West Hendon nick first, mate.’
‘Yeah, I agree. Knowing our luck he’s the loca
l nutter!’ Terry laughed.
***
As the two men walked in to the reception area of West Hendon police station they were met by another detective.
‘He’s in interview room three,’ the detective told them, pointing to his left, ‘I’ll buzz you through.’
The young male was waiting patiently, in silence when the two detectives entered the room.
‘Detective McFarland, I saw you on the television, I have so much to tell you.’
‘OK, what’s this all about?’ McFarland asked the scrawny camp man.
‘What’s your name?’ Terry thought that it would be better if they knew a little about this guy.
‘My name is Julian Jones… you can call me Jules if you like. I’m twenty-two, and I live on my own on Chalkhill Estate, Wembley Park. One hundred and nineteen Gold Walk.’
‘What do you want to tell us, Julian?’ Terry enquired. Both detectives leant forward indicating that Julian had their full attention.
‘I witnessed Hector’s kidnap. I was there.’
‘I hope you are not wasting our time Julian?’ McFarland said impatiently.
‘Honest… I was there…’ Julian began to panic.
‘Go on, tell us more,’ Terry smiled, his interest in what story he was about to hear grew.
‘OK… Hector and I had met in the Penny Farthing and he bought me a few drinks. We got talking, and he told me that he was married with two children. He enjoyed a bit of both worlds, if you know what I mean?’ Julian giggled awkwardly.
‘Get on with it, we haven’t got all day,’ McFarland barked, wanting Julian to cut to the chase.
‘OK, OK… Hector was known to a few of the more regular clientele in the Penny for picking up someone and getting some action in the alley round the back of the pub. Apparently, he was well hung. Well, on Friday…’
‘Is that this Friday just gone?’ Terry wanted Julian to be precise.
‘No, about two weeks last Friday. Well, Hector and I went round the back and started doing what we do and when we finished, Hector started hitting me, telling me how disgusting I was. I begged him to stop, well we’d just made love for fuck’s sake… when all of a sudden this hunk appeared knocking Hector to the ground.’ Julian paused, his manner seemed a little uneasy, even scared.
The Ultimate Selection: Be Careful Who You Talk To Page 18