I put the card into my jeans pocket and tried to steady my breathing. A wave of nausea rose in my throat. Had Jonny lied to me? Had he known Mark? I grabbed my keys and headed for the door. His twenty-four hours were nearly up.
Chapter 22
Alana Loxton
Wednesday
‘Mr Steele, would you care to tell me about the cocaine I found in your flat?’ Loxton sat opposite Steele in the interview room, only the small plastic table between them. So far, all of his replies had been, ‘No comment’. Anger radiated off him. She was glad Kowalski’s large bulk was beside her.
Steele looked to his solicitor, the overweight Mr Harrington, whose cobalt three-piece suit and ridiculous red tie wouldn’t have looked out of place at a wedding. Mr Harrington shook his head slightly.
Steele replied again: ‘No comment.’
The solicitor was good. He’d spotted Steele’s temper and decided it was best he said as little as possible. She sighed. There would be no coaxing anything out of him now.
‘Ever given cocaine to Mark Rowthorn?’ she asked.
‘No comment.’
‘We know you both took cocaine together socially.’
‘No comment.’ Steele narrowed his eyes at her.
‘This is your interview, Mr Steele,’ Loxton said. ‘Your solicitor won’t be standing in the box with you if this goes to trial. You’ll be facing the music – alone. He gets paid whether you get off or not.’
‘I’m not a child.’ Steele sneered at her.
Kowalski, whose tall frame had been threatening to topple the flimsy plastic chair he’d been leaning back on, moved suddenly forward, forcing the front legs to bang back onto the floor. Steele flinched momentarily. Steele and Mr Harrington’s chairs were screwed to the floor.
Kowalski scribbled onto Loxton’s notebook so that only she could see: ‘This one’s a real prick.’ It broke the tension of Steele’s angry gaze and Loxton relaxed.
‘Let’s cut to the chase shall we, David?’ she said. ‘We found blood in your flat.’
‘Blood?’ Steele’s voice sounded panicked.
‘A lot of blood.’ She kept her voice steady.
‘Where?’ Steele crossed his arms in front of him defensively, but he couldn’t hide that he’d gone pale.
‘It’s your flat; you tell me.’ Loxton shrugged and waited.
Before he could answer, Harrington interrupted. ‘Officer, you didn’t disclose this to me before the interview.’ He was frowning. ‘And what has this got to do with possession of cocaine and assaulting a police officer? Is it your blood?’ He scanned her face and body and pulled a puzzled face at her.
The bruise on her leg throbbed as she remembered the fight in the flat. ‘I don’t need to disclose every last detail of the police’s case before I begin an interview,’ she said. ‘We’re here to record and test your client’s account. And no, it’s not my blood. Now come on, Mr Steele. I haven’t got all day.’
‘The bathroom.’ Steele waved his arm dismissively. ‘I cut myself shaving.’
‘You must have hit an artery,’ Kowalski said. ‘There was blood everywhere.’ He swept his arms wide, indicating the whole room.
‘There wasn’t a sea of blood this morning,’ Steele threw a glance at his solicitor, then turned his full attention back to Kowalski.
‘Maybe not to the naked eye,’ Kowalski said. ‘But once the area’s been sprayed with luminol, our UV lights can pick up the blood spatters, and there was blood everywhere in your bathroom.’
Steele frowned but there was a flash of something else. Fear.
‘It’s time to tell the truth, Mr Steele,’ Loxton said.
‘I . . . I remember now.’ Steele’s gaze darted between the officers. His voice had risen and the words tumbled out of him in a panic. ‘I had a nosebleed. That’s what happened. It was bad.’ Steele started to pick at the nail on his index finger, tearing shreds of skin off.
‘Some nosebleed.’ Loxton shook her head at him in disbelief.
‘I’ve always had bad nosebleeds.’ He ripped a shred of skin away and a drop of bright red blood blossomed. He fixed on it, not meeting her eyes.
‘Occupational hazard, shoving this up your nose.’ Loxton tossed the packet of cocaine onto the table.
Steele’s eyes flicked onto the bag.
‘Talk me through this terrible nosebleed.’ She wondered where he was going to try and go with his lies.
Steele couldn’t look directly at her, so instead he focused to the right of her. Loxton recalled being taught in training school that people who are lying often looked to their left, accessing the part of their brain that imagines, as they thought up a lie on the spot. ‘It . . . it started in the living room. Wouldn’t stop. I went into the bathroom to clean up. Managed to stop it with cold water.’ He smiled triumphantly.
‘Did you go to the doctor afterwards?’ Loxton said.
‘It was just a nosebleed,’ Steele shrugged.
‘Quite a serious one from all the blood,’ she said.‘When did this happen?’
‘I don’t know.’ Steele looked to his solicitor and then back at Loxton. ‘Saturday evening, I think.’
‘I thought you were meant to be at Mark’s flat on Saturday evening, not yours?’ she said. Steele raked his hands through his hair and glared down at the table.
‘So just around the time Mark went missing, lots of blood appears in your flat,’ she continued. ‘I wonder if the blood in your bathroom will come back as Mark’s . . .’ Loxton knew it would take the lab a few days to compare it to Mark Rowthorn’s DNA, but she didn’t have time to wait. She could only keep Steele in for twenty-four hours.
Steele’s eyes widened and he turned to his solicitor. Not such the hard man after all. Sweat trickled down Harrington’s fat face but he still shook his head at Steele.
‘Won’t take the lab long at all,’ Loxton said. ‘All we need to do is compare it to Mark Rowthorn’s DNA, which we took from his toothbrush, and bingo, I bet we’ll have a match.’
Steele swallowed and reached for the plastic cup on the table, taking several sips.
‘Better start talking,’ Kowalski said.‘Or you’ll be sitting in a cell for a long, long time.’
‘Fine.’ He sat straighter, a cold look in his eyes. ‘After we picked up the suits from the Yardsmen, Mark and I went back to my flat. And he was fine when he left.’
‘You told us he left you at the Yardsmen and you never saw him again. We’ve been looking in the wrong place thanks to you.’ Kowalski was struggling to keep his temper. ‘Why not just say you went to your flat when we first talked to you?’
‘Mr Steele, I’d advise you to answer “no comment” from now on,’ Harrington said.
‘I couldn’t find him on the CCTV on the high street. How did you get to your flat?’
‘We drove,’ Steele answered, ignoring his solicitor’s advice.
‘And you’re maintaining the blood is yours?’ Loxton asked.
Steele sneered at her. ‘Like you said, nosebleeds are an occupational hazard. So yes, I had a nosebleed. Mark and I took cocaine in my flat, but the blood’s mine.’
‘And then Mark goes missing and is found in the river,’ Loxton said. ‘How inconvenient for you. He can’t back up your story.’
Steele closed his eyes for a second, as if realizing how ridiculous this all sounded.
‘Why didn’t you tell us this before?’ Kowalski asked.
Steele shook his head at Kowalski. ‘What a great mate I’d be. “Yeah, Mr Policeman, last time I saw Mark he was taking coke in my flat.” He wasn’t meant to be there. We were meant to be in his flat.’
‘You lied to protect Mark?’ Loxton said. ‘I don’t buy it. What if Mark overdosed and died in your flat? You panicked. You had to get rid of his body. You cleaned him up in the bathroom and then threw him in the Thames? He was meant to sink, but it didn’t work out like that.’
Steele’s eyes looked panicked as the enormity of his situation hit him
. ‘You . . . you can’t think I’ve got anything to do with his death?’ He looked from Kowalski to Loxton, as if searching for an ally. ‘That’s insane. I was his best friend. I don’t know how he ended up in that river, but it wasn’t anything to do with me.’
‘Officers, you did not tell me this was a murder enquiry,’ Harrington barked. ‘This is an abuse of process. I shall make a formal complaint.’
‘It isn’t a murder enquiry,’ Loxton said.
‘But what you’ve just said—’
‘I’ve just described concealing a dead body. You’re the one who introduced the word murder; do you know something I don’t?’
The solicitor scowled back at her and then started scribbling on his notepad.
‘This is unethical.’ He shook his head at her in disgust.
She turned away from him and looked at Steele. ‘Do you see the problem we’ve got? You’ve lied consistently to us, telling us you last saw Mark outside the Yardsmen, but you last saw him at your flat. Why did you do that? We know you had a serious argument days before he disappeared – it’s on his mobile. Your name is all over the insider trading, just like Mark’s. There’s blood in your flat. You don’t have an alibi for the day he went missing. In fact, you were the last person to see him alive – and now it turns out it was at your flat.’
‘Shit,’ Steele put his head in his hands. ‘What the fuck happened to him?’ He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting, but she also knew that Steele was a practised liar.
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ Kowalski said. ‘I wasn’t the last person to see him alive. I mean . . .
I wasn’t on my own. Mark’s dealer can vouch for me. We were all in my flat together.’
Harrington’s voice rose in exasperation. ‘My client will not be answering any further questions until—’
Steele turned to him. ‘Why don’t you shut your stupid fat face?’ he shouted. ‘They’re trying to pin a fucking murder on me and you’re telling me to go no comment?’
‘Mr Steele, it’s for them to prove—’ Mr Harrington said.
‘Next you’ll be telling me miscarriages of justice never happen.’ Steele turned back to Loxton, visibly calming himself.
‘Tell me what happened, from the start.’ Loxton tried to keep her voice neutral. As alibis went, this was up there.
Steele had stopped picking at his index finger. ‘After we picked up the suits, Mark started getting nervous; wanted to take the edge off. He called his drug dealer. Said he wanted to buy some coke. His dealer picked us up in his car from the Yardsmen, we sat in the back of his car. He and Mark were friendly. He was always doing favours for Mark. I thought it was a bit weird, personally.’
That explained why Rowthorn’s travel card and bank card hadn’t been used since the Yardsmen. It was how he’d disappeared, and why she hadn’t been able to pick him up on CCTV after that. There’d been a blind spot outside the Yardsmen of about twenty metres and the road itself wasn’t covered well by the shop cameras.
‘Why didn’t you just tell us?’ Kowalski folded his arms in front of his chest.
‘I couldn’t tell you Mark had got into a drug dealer’s car.’ Steele leaned towards them. ‘He was in enough fucking trouble with the bank as it was without me telling them he hangs out with drug dealers. I thought he’d just done a runner. I guess it doesn’t matter, he’s dead.’ Steele pressed his lips together, as if trying to control his emotions – or at least make a show that he was.
‘What car did the drug dealer use?’ Loxton hated these elaborate alibis, which would take time to disprove. ‘Do you remember any of the registration?’
‘Not the reg.’ Steele shrugged at them. ‘But I think it was a BMW . . . maybe an M3. It was matt black. I remember thinking, This isn’t bloody discreet.’ Steele ran his hands through his hair again, calmer now, more in control.
Loxton made a quick note. She would check the CCTV later, see if she could identify the car. It seemed to her that Steele was playing for time, hoping to get bail while they had to track down this imaginary car. Was he going to try and run for it?
‘Go on.’ Kowalski nodded at Steele.
‘Mark got the dealer to drive us all to my flat. I wasn’t happy about it, but Mark didn’t want to go to his place, in case Julia turned up for some last-minute reason. The dealer sold Mark a few bags of coke. I bought a couple.’ He pointed at the bags on the table. ‘We both snorted some, just to test the purity before we bought it. The stuff was pure. I mean really pure. I got a nosebleed. That’s never happened before. I’m cleaning myself up in the bathroom and Mark gets this WhatsApp, says he has to go. I know he had a woman on the side. I thought it was that. Me and the dealer were left in my flat and he ran out. It was bizarre.’
‘A woman on the side?’ Loxton couldn’t help staring at Steele.
‘I know I should have told you, but I just didn’t want it getting back to Julia. In case Mark wanted to try again with her. I just thought he’d gone off with his other woman. I didn’t know it was going to end like this.’
‘Who is this other woman?’
‘I have no idea. He kept pretty quiet about it. I only guessed – it’s not like he ever admitted it.’
Loxton didn’t believe him.‘Can you tell me more about this dealer?’
‘I don’t know.’ Steele shrugged. ‘His name was Jack . . . No, wait, Jonny. I never knew his surname.’
‘Can you show us his mobile number on your phone?’
Steele shook his head. ‘He was Mark’s dealer. I never had his number and I think Mark contacted him through WhatsApp. I didn’t want anything to do with him. He was a bit weird around Mark. Over-friendly. Wanted to be his mate. That was strange. But you get people acting like that around bankers. Money groupies.’
‘Thanks for your cooperation. We’ll be seizing your phone as evidence, David. This interview is terminated.’ Loxton sat back. She watched Steele nervously running his hands through his hair, glancing at his solicitor as if to check he’d done enough. She didn’t like Steele. She could tell all he ever did was lie.
She felt her mobile vibrate in her pocket. She stepped outside the interview room and Kowalski followed her.
‘Good afternoon, DC Loxton. It’s Dr Reynolds here.’
‘Afternoon, doctor.’ She put the phone on speaker so Kowalski could hear.
‘The dental comparison has just come back on the body in the river,’ Dr Reynolds continued. ‘It’s not Mark Rowthorn. It’s come back as a Robert McGregor. I’ve emailed you the report.’
Loxton shook her head and looked at Kowalski in confusion. There must be a mistake. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I triple checked,’ Dr Reynolds replied. ‘It’s not your missing man.’
‘Gówno.’ Kowalski’s brow furrowed.
Chapter 23
Alana Loxton
Wednesday
‘I can’t keep Steele in for Mark Rowthorn’s disappearance on this.’ Winter dropped Loxton’s report onto his desk. He looked at them both. ‘I’ll have to let him go.’
Loxton’s heart ached with frustration. ‘Sir, we know that Steele and Rowthorn had a row and I bet it’s Rowthorn’s blood in Steele’s bathroom. Steele was the last person to see Rowthorn alive and that was at his flat. He lied to police. We should at least show it to the CPS.’
Winter tossed a file onto his desk. ‘Loxton, you don’t even have Rowthorn’s body. The man found in the Thames is this Robert McGregor. And you’ve told me Steele thinks Rowthorn was having an affair.’
Loxton skimmed the report. Robert McGregor had been reported missing one week ago.
‘Where the hell is Rowthorn then?’ Kowalski said.
‘And why was this missing person wearing Rowthorn’s watch when he died?’ She rubbed her face with her hands, trying to shift the tiredness she felt. If McGregor had been murdered, the MIT wouldn’t be far behind. And they would bring her secrets with them. It wo
uld be out in the open for the whole team to know.
‘I’m getting an intel package done on this McGregor,’ Winter said. ‘If there’s a link between them we’ll find it. I’ve sent Patel and Kanwar to Julia Talbot’s home to tell her that her fiancé may be alive yet. Let me focus on McGregor, you track down this drug dealer “Jonny” that Steele mentioned. And try to find out about this other woman, if she even exists.’
‘What are we going to do about Steele?’ Kowalski asked.
‘Charge Steele for possession of cocaine and assaulting a police officer. The court will give him bail in the morning, but there’s nothing we can do about that. Get his phone downloaded and see if there’s anything on it to do with Rowthorn’s disappearance.’
Loxton didn’t wait to be told twice. She headed straight out of the door, Kowalski jogging to keep up with her.
Chapter 24
Alana Loxton
Wednesday
‘I’ve found it!’ She couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice, shouting across the office to Kowalski.
Kowalski came over, carrying a coffee cup with him. ‘Found what?’
She pointed at the monitor. ‘I’ve found the matt black car. It’s here. You can make out there’s two passengers in the back. That could be Mark Rowthorn and David Steele.’
‘So, who’s the driver?’ Kowalski peered at the image.
‘It’s impossible to say,’ she said. ‘The angle from this shop isn’t great. We’re lucky it captured the car at all.’
‘Can you see the reg?’ He took a sip of his coffee.
‘Not from this camera, but maybe on the CCTV from the bank on the corner.’ She brought that up, scrolling to the correct time and hitting play. The matt black car soared past, so fast she couldn’t read. She rewound the footage and moved it along frame by frame, pausing as the car drove away. She smiled. ‘XV66 MGH.’
Kowalski plonked himself in the chair next to her and pulled up the Police National Computer database on the monitor next to her. He typed in the registration and they waited.
Before I Say I Do Page 13