by Tim Sullivan
'No, he was there all night,' she replied.
'And did he go to work that night?' he asked.
'I don't know!' she blurted out in frustration. 'Probably. Yes. But I don't know, all right? Can I go now, please?'
'Would you like another coffee? Water maybe?' asked Ottey.
'Call that coffee?' she said, looking at the half finished cup in front of her.
'I know. I could send someone out,' she said.
'You'd do that?' Jean asked.
'Absolutely, you're doing us a favour, being here and helping us. Why wouldn't I do the same?'
'I am, aren't I? Doing you a favour?' Jean said.
'You are,' Ottey replied.
'You could do with remembering that, mate,' she said to Cross.
'DS Cross is very much aware of that. He's just not as good at showing it. Isn't that right, George?' Ottey said.
'How did you find out about Debbie being pregnant?' Cross asked, ignoring them both.
'Cappuccino, two sugars please,' Jean said to her new friend in the room. Ottey got up and sent Mackenzie, who was, quite frankly, relieved to get a break from observing the tedium of Cross' interviewing. If it had been her sitting opposite him, she would have just told him the truth, or anything he wanted her to say, ages ago, so she could have got out of there as soon as possible. When Ottey came back, Jean and Cross were staring at each other. She still hadn't answered his question. Cross waited for Ottey to sit down, then repeated the question.
'How did you find out about Debbie being pregnant?'
'She phoned me.'
'But you said when we first met that you hadn't heard from her for months,' said Cross.
'I said I hadn't seen her.' Cross checked his notes.
'So you did,' he replied. 'Where were you when you received the call?'
'At home, I suppose.'
'You suppose?' he asked.
'All right. I was then.'
'And how did you feel?'
'I already told you that. Do we have to talk about this? I mean I don't have to talk about anything if I don't want, do I? I mean I can just go, right?'
'Yes, whenever you like,' said Ottey.
'So what if I just stand up and go now?'
'You'd miss out on your coffee,' Ottey replied.
'Good point,' said Jean, smiling at her only ally in the room.
When Mackenzie arrived with Jean's coffee, Cross decided it was a good time for a break. So they went back to the interview room. They had left Andy there rather than returning him to the holding cell. This was because Cross wanted him to be aware of the fact that Jean was being interviewed at the same time. To get him concerned about what she might be saying.
Cross sat down and organised his folders on the desk. Then he looked up at Andy.
'Where were you when Debbie told Jean about the pregnancy?' he asked. This caught Andy off guard momentarily. It was a new line of questioning. Did it worry him, Cross was thinking?
'I don't remember,' he replied.
'Really?' said Cross, sounding surprised and a little perplexed.
'Yes, really.'
'Now you see, that seems a little odd to me. You can remember what you ate on a certain night, two weeks ago. What DVD you watched. All pretty trivial stuff, wouldn't you agree?' said Cross.
'I suppose so.'
'And yet, you can't remember something as important as your stepdaughter telling you she's pregnant.' Cross paused, but Andy didn't answer. ‘Presumably you'd agree that it is important? A life-event. A new family member. Both of you grandparents for the first time.'
'Of course.'
'So let's try again. Where were you?' Cross asked.
'At work, I think,' he replied.
'You "think"? Clearly not memorable then.'
Andy thought for a few seconds then remembered. 'I was at work. I remember it now, because I'd been sent over to Bath for a job. I was on the A4, had to pull over,' he said, as Cross ticked off a question in his file methodically and made some notes.
'And how did you feel about it? Were you happy?'
'Mixed, I suppose. She's so young, and obviously I didn't know how she felt about it, so that was a worry.'
'And you didn't call her,' Cross stated.
Andy thought for a moment, then looked up. 'It wasn't worth it.'
'Why's that?'
'It would have caused too much grief,' he said.
'With Jean?' Cross asked. But Andy didn't answer. There was no need. 'You get on with Debbie, though. Her problems were really with her mother, were they not?'
'Yes.'
'Too similar, maybe?'
'No, not at all. Quite the opposite. She's the most sensible of the three of us.'
'So why did she leave?'
'The drinking. Jean's drinking. It upset Debbie and she started talking to her about it. Asking her mum to stop. It led to terrible rows and she left.'
'What was the breaking point for her? Was there a particular row?'
'Yeah.'
'And what was that about?'
'Well it started out of nothing really. Trouble was, if I'm honest, I'd had a few that night as well. It was a Friday. You know, end of the week. But it's um... I tend to do my drinking with my mates now. Down the pub. Have a few, nothing too much. Then come home, and if she's still up go straight to bed. We're not too good together if we've both had a drink,' he said.
'So the argument, that Friday night. What did it end up being about? What made her leave? Was it about Alex?' Cross asked. Andy looked unsure as to how to answer this.
'It was, wasn't it?' volunteered Ottey.
'Yep. In the end she called him, and he came round and picked her up. That's when Jean said some awful shit. I told her she'd regret it. The girl's sixteen, for God's sake. Sometimes Jean behaves like her older sister, not her mother. It's not right. But it happened.'
'Couldn't you have called Debbie and not told her mother?' said Cross.
'Um, yeah, I suppose so. I don't know. Things have all been so difficult recently.'
'And now you find yourself arrested on suspicion of murder,' said Cross. This brought Andy back to reality with a jolt. Cross often did this. In the middle of an interview that was going quite amicably, non-controversially, he would suddenly remind the suspect why it was they were there. 'Things can't get much more difficult than that,' he pointed out. ‘You get on well with Debbie, don't you?'
'Of course I do. She's my daughter.'
'Stepdaughter, in point of fact,' Cross pointed out.
'She's like a daughter to me and she calls me Dad most of the time,' Andy replied.
'I noticed at the restaurant the other day, the closeness of your relationship. She was really pleased to see you. Relieved. She looked like she's been missing you and found your presence there reassuring,' Cross said.
'Thanks. She's a lovely girl.'
'Do you feel badly, that you didn't call her?' Cross asked.
'Okay, so what has this got to do with my being arrested?' Andy asked. Cross never answered these kind of questions from suspects. But it often served as an indication that it was a good time to move the interview on to the next stage. Which he did here.
'As you know, Jean is here, helping us with our enquiries,' said Cross, 'and we're covering much the same ground as we're covering with you. But the thing is, she tells us that you were with her when she took the call from Debbie.' He looked up to see if there was any reaction from Andy. There was none. 'Not on the A4, but with her at home. She's quite sure of it. Can you explain, perhaps? Who's right and who is wrong?'
'She's confusing the time when we spoke about it after. She was upset. She's not thinking straight,' said Andy.
'That's perfectly understandable. She was upset then and she's stressed now. Not exactly the friendliest of environments, police stations, however hard we try to put people at their ease.'
'And, let’s face it, she's drunk most of the time, Detective,’ Andy went on. ‘She doesn't know one
day from the next. So it's hardly an earth-shattering revelation that she's got her facts about that wrong.'
'She said you talked about it at length,' Cross went on.
'On the phone,' said Andy.
'That you looked disappointed. That you hugged her.'
'That was when I got home, after work. I hugged her, but I didn't look disappointed. That's her putting what she was thinking onto me.'
'What was she thinking?'
'That history was repeating itself. She had Debbie at the same age and it hasn't done her a power of good.'
'Are you saying she blames Debbie for her present situation?' asked Ottey.
'Yes. She's had a lot of opportunities robbed from her, by being a mum at such a young age,' said Andy.
'Or maybe it was the alcohol that robbed her of those opportunities,' said Cross.
'It's all part of the same thing,' said Andy.
'Oh, so she blames Debbie for her drinking.'
'No.'
'Maybe you do. Do you blame your daughter for your wife's drink problem?' Cross asked.
'Stepdaughter,’ Andy corrected him. 'You're just putting words into my mouth now,' said Andy. 'What has any of this got to do with Alex being killed?'
'Well, that's what we're trying to ascertain. But it's quite difficult when neither of you are telling the truth.'
'What are you talking about?'
'You both have different versions of events,' said Cross.
'Like I said. She can't be relied on to remember stuff. You're wasting your time with her. She's a fucking drunk. There, I've said it. Happy now?' Andy said.
'I don't understand the question. Why would your acknowledging your wife being an alcoholic make me happy or otherwise?' asked Cross. Ottey knew that this was a genuine question. Andy didn't.
'Are you trying to be stupid, or does it just come naturally?' said Andy. His lawyer decided to step in at this point.
'I think it might be time for us to take a break,' he said.
'No,' said Cross.
'I beg your pardon?' said the lawyer, but Cross was in no mood to answer. He was more interested in switching things up.
'Can you explain why you have two different versions of...' Cross began, but he was interrupted by an increasingly irritable interviewee.
'Are you not listening? I just said, she can't be relied on,' said Andy.
'Which I'm sure, now that you've made that point on several occasions, the prosecution will make very clear to the jury, if she appears as a witness for the defence,' replied Cross. The lawyer closed his eyes momentarily before Cross continued. 'Two different versions of an event that never actually happened,' he said, and looked up directly at Andy without adding any further elaboration. Andy then looked at his lawyer to see if he could help. But the lawyer was looking at Cross, waiting to hear what was coming next.
'There was no phone call. Debbie never phoned to tell Jean that she was pregnant,' Cross said.
'Yes she did,' said Andy, laughing nervously.
'She did not. She told us herself, did she not, DS Ottey?'
'That's right,' Ottey replied.
'Well, she's obviously forgotten,' said Andy.
'Oh no, Mr Swinton,' said Cross, addressing him by his surname to, subliminally, let him know things were getting more serious – if he hadn't worked it out for himself – with this development. 'She was quite emphatic that she hadn't told you. And bearing in mind how your wife's and your recollection of recent events seems a little hazy, I'm inclined to go with hers.' There was no response from Andy, so Cross went on, ‘Debbie never made that call. Why would you and Jean talk about a call that had never occurred?'
'No comment.'
For people who don't understand police interviews, and the techniques they employ, in this case Cross' particular techniques, the "no comment" answer can be seen as a frustrating stonewall. A cul-de-sac of non-cooperation. But for Cross, this was a welcome development. The fact that they'd moved into "no comment" territory showed that they were making progress. That they were now circling the truth in ever-decreasing circles, effectively.
Chapter 26
Back in the VA room with Jean, Cross asked, 'So how did you really find out about your daughter's pregnancy?'
Jean had to think this one through. She was trying to work out what Andy might have said. Had he agreed that there was never any call? She was confused. Her mouth was dry. She just wanted to go home and curl up on the sofa with a fag and a glass of wine.
'I'd like to go now. I don't feel well,' she said.
'Would you like some water?' Ottey asked.
'No. You can't keep me here, can you? So I'd like to go,' she said.
'We'd prefer you to stay,' said Ottey.
'Well, I'm not going to. You said I was doing you a favour. That I was here helping you. That I could go any time I wanted,' she protested.
'That was before you started lying,' said Cross.
'I've had enough of this,' she said and got up. Cross stood up at the same time.
'Sit down, Mrs Swinton.'
'No, I don't have to. You said. She said. I don't have to be here. Well, you know what? I don't want to, so I'm going to exercise my rights and leave,' she said.
'In that case – Jean Swinton, I'm arresting you on suspicion of perverting the course of justice,' said Cross.
'What?'
Cross and Ottey had let Andy go back to his cell, even though they anticipated it being for only a short amount of time. They had done this so that when he was taken back he would witness Jean being charged at the desk, by the custody sergeant. Which he duly did.
'Jean? Jean, what's going on?' he shouted down the corridor.
'I don't know!' she yelled back tearfully. 'I don't know what's going on. I just want to go home. They won't let me go home, babe!'
'What are they doing?' he asked the officer taking him back to the interview room.
'I've no idea, mate,' was the reply.
Normally it would've been Cross and Ottey retrieving him from his cell, but they knew he might kick off. He didn't, in actual fact. He wasn't that stupid. But, by the time they got into the interview room with him, he was quite agitated. It was like things had moved onto another level. His head was swimming with possibilities. He'd asked to see Cross and Ottey, which was why they were sitting there without his lawyer.
'What's happening to Jean?' he asked, slightly desperately.
'She's being charged,' said Cross as he organised his files.
'With what?' asked Andy.
'I'm afraid I can't divulge that,' Cross replied.
'This has nothing to do with her,' said Andy.
'What hasn't?' Cross asked. 'What hasn't got anything to do with her?'
Andy immediately realised his mistake.
'I'm not going to say anything more till I've talked to my solicitor,' he said. Which was a problem, because the duty solicitor had two other cases in the cells and was involved in a conference with another of them. This wasn't so much a tactic as a fact of life these days. The police lost numerous hours in the twenty-four-hour window – in which they could question suspects, before either charging them or getting an extension from a judge – through doctor's visits for example, but primarily through solicitors having more than one client in the cells. Some wily, tired old hacks often played the "other client" card when they got bored sitting through an endless "no comment" phase of an interview. Or because it amused them to annoy the detectives.
Cross wasn't bothered that the solicitor wasn't available to them at this point, because his suspect was boiling up, and an hour or two in the cell on his own could only enhance Cross' chances of getting to the truth. As they were leaving, Ottey noticed that Andy's breathing had changed. His shoulders were rising on every in-breath. He looked like he was trying to control it. She recognised the signs immediately. It looked like panic, but it wasn't. One of her daughters was asthmatic, and this kind of breathing always indicated that she was about to have a
n attack.
'Are you okay, Andy?' she asked.
'Yeah, I'm fine,' he replied.
'You don't look it,' she replied.
'It's just an asthma attack,' he said.
'Where's your inhaler?'
'At home.'
'You're an asthmatic?' said Cross. Andy didn't bother to answer.
'Would you like to see a nurse?' Ottey continued.
'No, you're all right. It'll pass.'
'You use a blue?' she asked. He looked up, a little surprised.
'Yeah.’ She disappeared and came back with a blue inhaler, which she handed to him.
'I carry a spare for my girl in the bag. Have it. I don't need it back. We have more at home,' she said.
‘Thanks.’
While they waited for the solicitor to return, Carson asked them both into his office. He'd got the initial forensic findings from the house. Mackenzie stood in the door. She hadn't actually been asked to the meeting, so she figured that if she was asked to leave, retreating would be less humiliating than if she had to exit the actual room.
'The kitchen is covered in blood; cleaned up, obviously. But it's on the edge of the kitchen counter...' Carson began.
'Where he struck his head?' asked Ottey.
'Yep, and pooled on the floor where he must've fallen.'
'DNA?'
'Too soon, but I'd put money on it being Alex's. Everything points to Swinton.'
They looked at Cross, who didn't seem to be listening. He was deep in thought.
'It certainly looks that way,' agreed Ottey.
'Let's charge him. I'll get on to the CPS. Agreed? George?' Carson asked.
But Cross ignored him, left the room, and said to Mackenzie,
'Alice, can you go and get Debbie? Ask her to come in. I'm sure she'll still be recuperating at the restaurant.’ Then he stopped and turned back, looking at Ottey. 'Or should we go there? Will she be up to coming in? We’re short of time.'