‘For the benefit of the tape, Mr Wood declined to answer the question. Moving on, then, Philip. Perhaps you’ll find the next one easier. How well did you know James Bell?’
Nothing. But then, if he was involved, he’d have known as soon as he saw the two detectives what it was about – he would have been prepared. If he was not involved, there would probably have been some sort of genuine ‘Who?’ immediately. Instead, Wood looked at the solicitor on his left. Harry Ward gave a non-committal shrug, as if to say, it’s up to you – he would already have been through the ‘No comment’ routine as an option. It was Wood’s decision alone.
‘Never heard of him.’
‘Really? Would you describe yourself as a generous person, Philip?’
‘No comment.’
Smith smiled around the table – Mr Wood was not going to admit to any dodgy personality traits, that much was clear.
‘Well, the thing is, you seem to have bought a brand new, quite expensive Samsung mobile phone for this James Bell that you’ve never heard of – I’d say that’s generosity. Not only that – you were even kind enough to put his list of contacts onto it for him.’
A longer pause – still no change of expression but beneath the surface, somewhere, was a little fear now.
‘I haven’t bought a phone for no-one.’
Smith tutted.
‘My old English teacher would say that you just admitted to it, Philip, with that double negative.’
Wood frowned and Harry Ward looked meaningfully at Smith; he was right and Smith acknowledged it.
‘So, Philip, I’m not going to mess about here. You’ve been in rooms like this before. I’m disclosing to you and your legal representative now that we have on CCTV images of you buying the mobile that I just referred to at,’ and looking down at the open folder, he read out the details of date, time and place. ‘How do you account for that, Philip?’
The solicitor held up his pen.
‘I would point out for my client’s benefit that if that is the sole means of identification, the CCTV footage, then there is a margin of error that makes it no more than circumstantial.’
Wood was looking at Ward now – looking for an explanation, which he was given.
‘CCTV footage on its own isn’t usually enough to convict anyone of anything.’
Wood smiled for the first time that morning.
Smith said, ‘Absolutely correct, Mr Ward – on its own, it often isn’t. However, the CCTV is just the start of it, I’m afraid. On our bit of film, we can see you paying for the phone with twenty pound notes. We can’t actually see the notes but we can count and we know the price of the phone.’
‘So?’
‘So – we’ve got a whole bundle of notes that were once in the possession of this James Bell that you’ve never heard of. They happen to be new notes, and we happen to have some of the serial numbers. We happen to have been able to trace where and when these notes were paid out. Do you, Philip, happen to have had any twenties like that in your possession recently?’
Wood looked to Harry Ward again but there was no help this time, and Wood was not so daft as not to realise that serial numbers on notes – the wrong notes in the wrong place – are not as likely to be seen as circumstantial by a jury.
‘No. No comment.’
‘Well which is it, Philip? No you have not had these notes or no, you wish not to answer a perfectly straightforward question? You have been told your rights this morning but I’d better make it clear to you, son, that if you remain silent now only to start fibbing later on when you have begun to see just how much evidence we’ve got, the prosecution and the jury are likely to take a dim view of it.’
It had the desired effect – mentions of prosecution and jury had begun to concentrate Wood’s mind.
‘Remember, Philip; at this point I am simply trying to establish whether you bought the phone. I know that you might not have given it to him personally; I know that you might just have gone into that shop, bought it and handed it to someone else. I know that you might have been given that money just to buy that phone. There is no criminal offence in any of that – I’m just asking whether it’s you on that CCTV tape.’
They could, all three of them, see that he was tempted. It was an escape route – name a name and perhaps walk out of this police station within the hour. If that was the sum total of his part in it, he would surely take the option that Smith had presented to him.
The smile had long gone from Wood’s face, however. He sat back, folded his arms and said, ‘No comment.’
Smith assumed his most bored expression and Alison Reeve took over. She asked Wood to give his whereabouts for all the key dates in the investigation, one by one, each time receiving the same two-word response. She wrote a short note on the pad in front of her which she showed to Smith; he nodded and she wrote the time by the note before looking up and speaking to the solicitor.
‘Mr Ward. In view of Mr Wood’s lack of cooperation, I am going to authorize the immediate search of his home address by two officers, and also of his vehicle which we now have in the police pound here at Kings Lake. Because he was detained at his place of work, we also have the right to search those premises and that will also be conducted today. We believe that Mr Wood’s mobile phone may also have been used while a serious offence was committed; therefore it too will be the subject of further investigation while he is in police custody. If either of you have any comments at this point, please make them so that they can be recorded.’
Smith had watched Wood closely, and something in that list of intended searches had got to him - but he could not be sure which one it was. He needed to speak to the search teams and tell them again to be thorough – there was something to be found, somewhere. It might be worth having another go at this now.
‘Just so you know, Philip, I had a long chat with Steve Scanlon this morning after you’d left us. We got on very well after an initial misunderstanding on his part. Once he realized that if he cooperated, we’d only be searching the parts of the building that had anything to do with you, he was very cooperative. You’re a part-time, cash-in-hand sort of chap at SOS but because you’ve been there for a while and not been caught doing anything you shouldn’t, they tolerate you. And they don’t have to ask whether you’re still claiming the unemployment, do they? Anyway, the foreman he put me onto told me you’ve got that fishing dinghy moored up there, and a key to the side-gate, so we’ll be having a look at that.’
Wood was following what was being said closely enough for Smith to be encouraged.
‘So you do a bit of fishing out in the estuary. I dabble a bit when I’m on holiday, but nothing serious. It’s a popular hobby, though. My boss is into it big-time, Detective Superintendent Allen – you’ll probably meet him at some point. He likes all that fly-fishing, the posh sort. And then only a week or so ago I met a chap out on a gas platform who was well into all this carp fishing business; he reckoned the main reason he did the security job was so he could get more time to go fishing…’
A hit – a palpable hit. Something changes in the eyes, something difficult to put into words; perhaps the pupils widen or contract, perhaps the glance that is trying to be so fixed wavers slightly. Smith decided to save the name itself for later but he was convinced that Wood knew exactly whom he was talking about.
Harry Ward had followed them out of the interview room, and said, ‘Officers, a word if you don’t mind.’
Alison Reeve said, ‘Of course.’
‘Well, an observation and a question, really…’
‘Fire away, Harry!’
The solicitor looked disapprovingly at this display of friendliness from Smith in an open corridor, even though there was no-one within earshot.
‘You have arrested him for the assault on a police officer, which is fine. But authorizing those searches? There’s a bit of a disconnect between the nature of the arrestable offence and that sort of action. That’s my observation, and my question follo
ws from it – you must have a more serious charge in mind. I appreciate that this might be dependent on the searches, and that you may already have evidence not yet disclosed, but are you able to give me some sort of idea?’
And that’s why Smith liked him – that would all have been said into the recorder by some of the others. This way, time was not wasted but the client – the word caused Smith pain even when he was only thinking it – would still get the advice to which he was entitled. If it had been Archer, they would still be checking whether Wood had been correctly processed in by the custody sergeant.
The question of the charge had been discussed for several minutes by Smith and Reeve; the latter had to be able to justify the word to everyone above her, up to the Director of Public Prosecutions if necessary – at least, that’s how it felt – while Smith was simply concerned with choosing the best moment to say it for the first time, to achieve maximum impact.
He said to Harry Ward, ‘We can’t say for certain, Harry, not yet, but if we find anything today, he’s going to be in fairly deep – that’s my guess.’
‘Quite serious, then?’
‘I’d say about as serious as it gets.’
Ward raised his eyebrows and looked at DI Reeve for confirmation – which was duly given with a nod of her head. He actually seemed to be a little pleased with it – having been called in from home, he had been annoyed but this looked like something worthwhile after all. He thanked them, turned and went back into the interview room. He wouldn’t say anything to Wood about it yet, but at least he was prepared if the moment came.
Detective Superintendent Allen stood in the incident room with the two of them and began to watch the recording of the questioning so far – the other four team members had done their paperwork quickly, it seemed, and were already out in the field. When Smith was shown touching his cheek, Allen paused the player and leaned across to look for himself.
‘That needs to be reported, Smith. Make sure it is logged. I don’t want any comebacks on that.’
‘Sir.’
As he pressed ‘Play’ again, Allen said with an attempt at laughter, ‘And presumably it won’t prevent you from attending the Fitness Assessment session!’
Smith confirmed that it would not but thought, but my knee might yet, it hurts like bloody hell after wrestling with ‘No Comment’ Wood and his Astra. They all watched the rest of the interview in silence, after which Allen thought hard, the fingers of his right hand supporting his chin.
Then he said, ‘Smith, I don’t see why you had to bring my name into that, telling suspects how senior officers like to spend their little leisure time. I really don’t.’
‘I thought it might give the service a more human face, sir.’
The said human face seemed to become a little icy at that point before it turned to DI Reeve.
‘Alison, this Wood character is clearly concealing something, fair enough, and you have a tenuous link to Bell. The other two names you gave me are pretty flimsy – a head of security and a senior manager at Nordco? Both without records, both in meaningful employment? Hardly likely conspirators with someone like Wood! You need to be careful with this. Nordco is a major employer in Lake…’
As Allen voiced his doubts, Smith concluded that at least a few of the Nordco executives were regular golfers, probably Rotarians and perhaps even members of the dodgy handshake brigade.
‘And this escapade on Saturday night, Smith. You think you recognized this woman from a photograph? You must have an extraordinary memory for faces, if that is the case.’
‘For interesting and attractive ones, yes, sir.’
‘What a sordid business. I don’t want this getting out unless it has to, let me make that clear. You might be mistaken, and then what?’
‘I’d have to apologise, sir.’
‘And you do intend to interview Mr McFarlane?’
Reeve said, ‘Yes, sir. He should be given the chance to explain what happened to the money that he withdrew and Bell’s use of his office number when he went for the job on the platform.’
‘Will you invite him in, make an appointment. I’d-’
‘Er, no, sir. We should see them at home, sir.’
Both faces had turned to Smith.
‘Because, sir, I think it will be less intrusive in this case. We can be very discreet, unmarked car and all that. If I happen to be right, and I did meet Mrs McFarlane last Saturday, she might wish to speak to us privately about that – she might be more forthcoming if she isn’t in the station.’
Allen seemed to be half-convinced against his will, and Reeve said that she agreed with her sergeant. And her sergeant thought – and because I want to see them in their own home, together – that will tell me more than a couple of hours having tea and biscuits in our poshest interview room. And because I want to see her face when she sees me walk into her luxurious lounge, and when I say the name James Bell to her husband.
Smith himself searched the car with Richard Ford. It was clean and tidy inside, and there was nothing of interest hidden away under seats or the floormats. Wood could not have owned it for long, he thought, and it might be worth checking its history – and then he realized that he was perhaps making too many assumptions based on the condition of the old Peugeot up in the Kings Lake Central car park. He wondered whether to get a SOCO to go over it anyway, while they had it in their possession but there was the cost and the wait to be weighed against the chance of finding anything worthwhile.
Back in the office, he looked at his watch – almost an hour and a half and no calls or texts to update him. Was this their idea of keeping in touch? He could go himself, either to Wood’s house or down to the docks but that would leave only Alison Reeve here to coordinate if there was a development, so he had to stick to the plan. He went down to the canteen, got some tea and a biscuit and asked Denise and Mel if they had heard any more about the plan to replace them both with a vending machine; they hadn’t but Mel said that if the price was right she would volunteer to have a couple of additional slots fitted herself and stand in the corner for eight hours a day.
Back in the office, he looked at his watch again – an hour and three quarters now. If it gets to two hours, he thought, I’m going to ring someone. Was he going to be stuck here over lunch, still knowing nothing? Not that he was hungry – he wasn’t at all, and that was a sure sign that things were suddenly moving very fast. Adrenaline, the survival drug; you don’t stop to pick blackberries if there’s a sabre-toothed tiger on the other side of the hedge… Random thoughts, Smith. Come on. Has it gone too fast, though? Wood kicking off that unexpectedly had forced his hand, of course, and now it was all down to four pairs of hands and four pairs of eyes, none of which belonged to him.
On his desk, the mobile began to vibrate. No name and he didn’t recognize the number.
‘DC, is that you? It’s Serena, sir.’
A lot going on there – the first time that she had phoned him and the first time that she had used his initials. He asked what was happening at Wood’s house.
‘There’s a woman here but she don’t know nothing.’
‘Eh?’
‘That’s all she says. She said it as soon as she saw my warrant card, and she’s been saying it about once a minute ever since. The place is a bit of a tip and there are too many cats.’
‘Right, well, call the RSPCA SWAT team if you have to. Anything?’
‘Not yet. A few suspect-looking items that won’t have receipts but nothing to link him to what we’re looking at. There’s a box for a new mobile but it’s not the Samsung.’
‘Grab that – we’ll check it out. Is that it?’
He hadn’t meant it to sound accusatory but somehow it did, and he had to be careful – too much pressure is as bad as not enough.
‘We’ve turned it over thoroughly – we’re done, I think, sir.’
‘OK, good. Just check one thing for me – have another look at any shoes or trainers or boots. If he was in a blood-stain
ed bathroom, there ought to be something. You say the woman is useless?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far, sir-’
‘Yes, yes, you know what I mean!’
‘She’s still saying it, though. We could bring her in so you can hear it too, sir…’
‘I’m passing on that kind offer, DC Butler. Not heard from the others? Right, got the photos? Get down to The Wherryman and catch the lunchtime trade. You can both have a lemonade on me.’
‘That’s generous, sir, but it won’t be as much fun as our night together in the MSC. I just wanted you to know that.’
He had to laugh but before he could think of a sharp reply, she had pressed end call.
Smith dialled John Murray then but got the engaged tone. He tutted to himself and wondered whether it was Maggie telling him to buy more walnuts - apparently she had developed a passion for them recently. Smith had voiced concerns that the baby might be born with protruding front teeth and a long bushy tail, in which case he might have to reconsider his agreement to act as god-father.
Then his mobile rang again, and it was Murray.
‘We’re on the dinghy, DC. Chris has filmed it all with his phone – I don’t know why. But there is blood on it, in various places, spots of dried blood.’
Murray didn’t sound too excited and Smith knew why.
‘It’s a fishing boat, isn’t it, rod and lines?’
‘Yes, that’s the trouble. They cut up baits, the fish they catch have hooks in them. It’s most likely fish blood.’
‘Describe the boat.’
‘About twelve or fifteen feet, with a little cabin over one end. Old and bashed about – I wouldn’t fancy going very far in it if the weather was getting up. But we’ve been over it…’
‘What’s Waters up to now?’
‘He’s got in under the cabin, at the front end. I can only see his legs. You’ll laugh when I tell you what he said when we got here. We were – hold on. He’s shouting something.’
Luck and Judgement: A DC Smith Investigation Page 25