‘Go away, Marshall. Go and play some music or something.’ As he put the phone down, Atherton came in, rubbing his hands. ‘You look pleased. How did it go?’
‘Loyal little wifie is dropping him in it as fast as she tries to bail him out.’ He recounted his interview with Mrs Prentiss. ‘First she says one thing then another. She didn’t know where he went and then she did. Obviously he’s come home after talking to us and given her a rocket for giving him the wrong alibi. Now she’s so confused she can’t remember what story they’re going with.’
‘We don’t know that,’ said Slider.
‘Oh, Mr Caution! All right, but she has been lying, and she was obviously trying to protect him, and what would she need to do that for if he wasn’t guilty?’
‘Did she admit she was trying to protect him?’
‘Yes, she did, as it happens. And here’s something odd,’ Atherton added. ‘She said she wanted to protect him from getting involved because the media would assume he and Agnew had been having an affair—’
‘Makes sense.’
‘Yes, but listen, then she added, “especially given the way she was found” – the way Agnew was found.’
‘Oh?’ said Slider.
‘Later on I asked her what she meant by that, and she waffled and said she didn’t remember saying it; but it must surely have been a reference to the fact that Agnew was found half naked and tied to the bedstead, à la sexual games. And that’s a detail that hasn’t appeared in the newspapers yet. So how did she know, unless Prentiss told her?’
Slider made an expressive face. ‘You think he boasted to her about the way he did the murder? The two women were friends, remember.’
‘Would you put it past him?’
‘She might not have meant anything in particular by it,’ Slider demurred. ‘It’s amazing how little people manage to mean by anything for ninety per cent of their lives. Still, it does look like another piece of evidence against Prentiss.’
‘Together with the fact that he told her on Friday morning about Agnew’s death and pretended to us that he didn’t know. Have you managed to penetrate the Freeman barrier yet?’
‘Not yet,’ said Slider.
‘They stick together, these types,’ said Atherton. ‘That’ll be why Prentiss has got the missus to go with the Freeman alibi – he’s betting we won’t be able to check it one way or the other.’
‘But what puzzles me most is why Prentiss should think a meeting with Freeman constitutes an alibi anyway,’ said Slider. ‘He could just as easily have killed Agnew first. We don’t have an exact time of death.’
‘He probably doesn’t know that. The general public mostly think we can pinpoint the time of death to within minutes,’ Atherton pointed out. ‘Still, he’d have done better from the beginning to say he was at home all evening. I wonder why he didn’t? He didn’t know we were interviewing his wife at the same moment. In fact, if he’d called her earlier on Friday to tell her about Agnew’s death, as she says he did, he could have fixed the alibi then.’
‘If he’d been anything of a gentleman he’d have left her out of it altogether.’
Atherton looked amused. ‘I should have thought, my dear old guv’nor, that murdering Phoebe Agnew pretty well ruled him out of the gentleman stakes. I’m sure they said something about that on my first day at Eton.’
‘You were never at Eton,’ Slider objected.
‘Josh Prentiss was,’ Atherton said soberly.
Porson paced back and forth across his room, his face looking older and more ghastly by courtesy of the fluorescent strip light that was needed to augment the thin winter sunlight. He must have been scratching his head in agitation, for his toupee was askew, and the line of natural hair revealed seemed greyer than it had been yesterday.
‘You’ve really opened up a kettle of worms now,’ he said, giving Slider a harried look. ‘I’ve had Commander Wetherspoon on the phone, literally bursting a blood vessel. It seems Giles Freeman’s evoked the Home Secretary’s support and the Home Secretary’s got straight on to the Commissioner. He was incrudescent with rage, I can tell you. You can’t go around issuing threats to a member of HMG, Slider, not if you value your pension. What were you thinking of?’
‘I was thinking of the case, sir.’ Slider remained sturdily unrepentant. In the first place he knew he was right; and in the second place, Porson was one of the old school, and no actor into the bargain. ‘Does the Home Secretary believe Cabinet Ministers are above the law?’
‘No-one’s above the law,’ Porson said.
‘Except the editor of a tabloid newspaper?’ Slider amended.
‘I’m glad you think it’s funny,’ Porson snapped. ‘Why the hell didn’t you come to me when this Freeman type wouldn’t come across? I could have passed it up to Mr Wetherspoon to get the Commissioner to tell the Home Secretary to put official pressure on him. It’s being side-passed makes Mr Wetherspoon go ballistic, and between you, me and the bedpost it’s him we’ve more to fear from than the Commissioner in all his glory. He’s in the best position to retaliate. He can make our lives a mockery just by lifting his little finger; and it’s no secret he doesn’t like you.’
‘That’s a cross I’ll have to bear, sir,’ said Slider. ‘And if I’d gone the long way round, via the official channels, would I have got a result so soon?’
Porson’s crest went down, and he sighed and scratched his poll. ‘No, you wouldn’t, and that’s an indispensable fact. Well, I’ve done my bit by reprimanding you. In fact, I told Mr Wetherspoon I was on your side. It gets on my goat, this attitude that you have to pussyfoot round people just because they’ve got themselves installed somewhere up the higher arky. We shouldn’t have to ask permission to talk to someone in the pursuit of duty, no matter who they are. As it happens,’ he added confidentially, ‘the Commissioner doesn’t like being leaned on any more than Giles Freeman, and especially not by a portentious little shit like McKenzie. He backed you all the way.’
Slider couldn’t conceal his surprise. ‘The Commissioner did?’
‘Oh, yes. He told the Home Secretary that Freeman’s got to come across or he’ll be prosecuted just like you, me or Rosie O’Grady. And come across he has.’
‘I’m glad, sir.’
‘But you’ve certainly stirred up a mare’s nest in Government circles,’ Porson went on, shaking his head sadly. ‘The fact of the matter is that Freeman has categorically denied that Prentiss was with him that evening. Blown his story sky high. And Prentiss, in case you didn’t know, is a special advisor to the Government. A chum. A member of the inner sanction.’
‘I did know it,’ Slider said.
‘Well, you see what you’ve done. One spoke on the wheel of power has placed another spoke in a very embarrassing position. Involved him in potential scandal. You’ve forced them to decide between Freeman and Prentiss, and they don’t like it.’
‘I’ve forced them? It’s Prentiss’s fault for lying.’
‘In the real world, yes,’ Porson said. ‘But the Government likes people to sing from the same hymn sheet. And Prentiss is valuable to them and they don’t want to lose him. They already had their heads to the grindstone trying to work out a way round the problem, when you shoved your size nines in and brought it to a crisis. Now too many people know about it, and they’ll have to drop Prentiss, which pisses them off more than somewhat. You’re a marked man, Slider.’
‘I’ll try hard to care, sir,’ Slider promised.
‘Yes, well,’ Porson said. He cleared his throat, looking at Slider reflectively. ‘You’re not interested in politics, I take it?’
Slider shook his head. ‘I’ve never had the time.’
‘The higher you go, the more it matters,’ Porson said. ‘But times have changed, and none of us can afford to ignore the political aspic of the Job any more. It affects all of us, right down the line to the coalface. So next time there’s a problem of this sort, bring it to me first. Do you savvy?’
�
�Yes, sir,’ said Slider. ‘What’s happening about Freeman? Is he going to make a statement?’
‘It’s on its way. You can take it as read that Prentiss didn’t visit him that evening and precede on that assumption.’
‘Good. I can’t say I’m completely surprised. But it gives me some ammunition against Prentiss. If we could just get the DNA profile back quickly—’ He looked hopefully at his boss.
‘I’m on to that,’ Porson barked, ‘so you needn’t give me the Battersea Dogs’ Home treatment. Given who Prentiss is, and the press interest, I think it’s important enough to justify some positive budgetary outlay. I’m prepared to pay the lab the extra for the quick result. As soon as we get the confirmation we can jump on him, before he finds any other political trees to hide behind. Meanwhile, there’s no harm in keeping some pressure on about his lies. If he’s talking to us, he can’t be talking to anyone else, can he?’
‘Right, sir.’
Porson nodded dismissal. Slider, on his way out, paused to say, ‘Sir? Thanks for backing me up.’
‘You’re at the sharp end. You shouldn’t have to worry about politics,’ Porson said. ‘That’s what you’ve got me for.’
He looked old that morning, but, for all his oddities, impressive. A totem carved in enduring granite; a giant in a world of pygmies.
CHAPTER NINE
The food, the cad and the bubbly
The result on the semen was waiting on the desk when Slider got in the next day. He took it through to the office.
‘How’d you do it, boss?’ asked Swilley. ‘Only yesterday they were pretending they’d never heard of us.’
‘Undue influence and bundles of used fivers,’ Atherton suggested.
‘Mr Porson flashed his legs and suddenly we were first in the queue,’ said Slider.
‘So what’s the score?’ said Mackay.
‘They couldn’t get anything from the condom – the sample was too dilute,’ Slider said. ‘But the semen from the vagina matches Prentiss’s blood sample.’
‘I always knew he was lying,’ Swilley said with satisfaction. ‘What about the tissue under the nails? Did that come from him too?’
‘The result of that test hasn’t come back yet,’ Slider said. ‘Bit of administrative confusion. Mr Porson asked for the semen result and they evidently separated that out.’
‘Still, if the semen’s Prentiss’s, we’ve nailed him in that lie,’ Swilley said.
‘And of course you all know now, don’t you,’ Slider said, looking round and gathering attentions, ‘that Giles Freeman has made a statement that he didn’t see Prentiss that evening, and that there never was a meeting scheduled. In fact the House was sitting and there was an important division, so there is no doubt Prentiss made it up.’
‘Ah, what it is to have friends!’ said Atherton.
‘But look here,’ Slider said, ‘the fact that Prentiss has been proved lying about these things doesn’t make him the murderer. He admitted all along that he had been at the flat—’
‘Not quite all along,’ Atherton said. ‘Only after we told him his car had been seen.’
‘All right, almost all along,’ said Slider. ‘Of course this new evidence makes it look more likely that he did it – he certainly behaves as though he’s got something to hide – but let’s keep an open mind. I want you all to go on with searching her papers and talking to the neighbours and her colleagues. Anyone got anything to report on those fronts yet?’
They went through the most useful so far. ‘Early days yet, guv,’ Hollis summed it up.
Slider looked round, frowning. ‘Where’s McLaren?’ Nobody answered. ‘Has he said anything more about Wordley’s whereabouts?’
‘Not to me,’ said Hollis, ‘but I know he was going to talk to that Kelly again, Wordley’s girlfriend, last night.’
‘Well, keep me posted. It certainly won’t hurt to know what Wordley’s up to, even if it isn’t anything to do with the case.’
‘What’re you going to do now, boss?’ Swilley asked.
‘Talk to Prentiss again,’ said Slider. ‘And this time we’ll do it here, on our territory, just to concentrate his mind.’
Josh Prentiss looked every inch a man whose entire life was swirling down the kermit before his very eyes. Sex, power and charisma had abandoned his fleshy face with the suddenness of seaside bathers at a shark alert. Now the face looked merely baggy, and the eyes were pouched and exhausted. His expensive clothes seemed to sit sadly on him, as if they’d sooner be anywhere else. In the institutional drabness of the interview room, where the smell of guilt, mindless crime and cheap trainers had soaked into the distemper, his designer chic looked as out of place as an orchid in a beer bottle.
When they arrived at his office, Prentiss was looking sick and a little dazed, but nodded meekly and without hesitation when they asked if he would accompany them to the station to help them with their enquiry. He had not screamed for a solicitor, which was out of character for a man in his various positions, and Atherton had looked sidelong at his boss when Slider gently insisted he ought to have one. Of course, from the police point of view it was always nicer to conduct an interview without the tortured mind of a legal representative hobbling the progress; but what boots it a policeman if he gains the whole confession and loses his case on procedural quibbles?
At the station, Prentiss had accepted the offer of a cup of coffee, but when it was placed before him he only looked at it blankly, as if such a thing had never come his way before. Well, perhaps it hadn’t, Slider reflected. In Prentiss’s world, coffee was probably a delicious aromatic stimulant made from freshly ground roasted arabica beans. Maybe he’d never been presented with a dingy ecru liquid that smelled of rancid laundry and been expected to swallow it.
When the brief, Philip Ainscough, arrived, Slider and Atherton took their places and faced him and Prentiss across the table that had heard more futile lies and feeble excuses than a regular army sergeant. Prentiss looked up from his stunned contemplation of caterers’ revenge, and said abruptly, ‘I’ve been a complete fool. I realise that now. I should have told you the truth from the beginning.’
‘It’s always a good idea,’ Slider said mildly.
‘Is it? Always?’ Prentiss said with some bitterness. ‘Is one always believed? I think not. The press and the public believe what they want to, regardless of the truth.’
‘We’re not the press or the public,’ Slider said. ‘And we’ve got ways of testing whether something’s true or not. For instance, let’s start with where you were on Thursday evening. You told us that you were at a meeting with Giles Freeman, but that was a lie, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, it was a lie,’ Prentiss sighed. ‘Look, do you mind if I smoke?’
The reply in Slider’s mind, ‘I don’t mind if you burn’ was withheld in favour of a go ahead gesture of one hand.
Prentiss drew out and lit a cigarette with hands that trembled slightly, but when he spoke, his voice was calm and reasonable. ‘I did lie to you about where I was on Thursday night, but I did it to protect someone who has nothing to do with this business. I hoped you wouldn’t check up, given who my alibi was. I mean, if you can’t trust a Cabinet Minister, who can you trust?’ Atherton made a slight choking noise, and Prentiss looked at him and frowned. ‘Well, I suppose I should have known better.’
Ainscough spoke. ‘You realise that by approaching Giles Freeman in the way you have done, you’ve ruined Mr Prentiss’s career?’
‘I should have thought he did that himself when he killed Phoebe Agnew,’ Slider said.
‘You’d better be careful what you say,’ Ainscough warned impassively. ‘You could be looking at a civil action. And if you’re not going to conduct this interview in a proper fashion, my client will withdraw his co-operation.’
Slider shrugged slightly and turned to Prentiss. ‘Let’s clear up this business of where you were first.’
Prentiss took a long suck at his cigarette, blew out a shaky cloud,
and then said, ‘I went to see a young woman with whom I’m having an affair. That’s why I lied about it. I didn’t want her dragged into all this. And I didn’t want my wife to know.’
Atherton stirred and gave Slider a look. Not that old chestnut again! Prentiss caught the look and a spot of colour appeared in his cheek – indignation, or shame?
‘What’s the young woman’s name?’ Slider asked.
‘Maria Colehern,’ Prentiss said. ‘She’s my secretary. Not at my firm – I mean, my secretary in my capacity as Government special advisor. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months now. She has a flat in Kensington – one of those service blocks in Phillimore Walk.’
‘Write the address down,’ Slider said, pushing a pad over to him.
Prentiss obeyed. ‘I suppose’, he said, looking from Slider to Atherton and back, ‘you’ll have to check it with her, but I do hope you’ll be discreet. Maria’s done nothing wrong, and it would be unfair to make her lose her job over this.’
Slider raised an eyebrow. ‘I think we’ve got a bit beyond “unfair” now, haven’t we?’
Prentiss stared a moment, and then burst out, ‘I didn’t kill Phoebe! Why won’t you believe me?’
‘Because’, said Slider, ‘we found Phoebe Agnew tied to her bed, naked from the waist down, and with your semen in her vagina. It seems a fair conclusion to me. What would you think?’
‘Don’t answer that,’ Ainscough said quickly. ‘You are not to ask my client to indulge in speculation.’
But Prentiss hadn’t attempted to answer. He went white and fumbled the cigarette to his mouth and sucked on it like an asthmatic on an oxygen mask. He drew in so much smoke that when he tried to speak he could only cough, spouting spasmodic clouds like a dragon with hiccups. At last he gasped, ‘It’s not possible. You must have made a mistake.’
‘No mistake,’ Slider said. ‘You kindly gave us a blood sample, if you remember, and we’ve run a genetic test on the semen. So unless you’ve got a twin brother, we’ve got a match. You had sex with Phoebe Agnew and then killed her, didn’t you?’
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