“It’s a difficult question to answer without knowing how he’s developed as a person in the last twenty years: what he’s done, what sort of relationships he’s had, whether he’s been in trouble with the police, that sort of thing.”
“Well, we know he hasn’t been able to hold down a job,” Willis reminded him.
“And that he dropped out of college, and that he doesn’t seem to be in a long-term relationship,” Metcalfe went on.
“Yes, yes,” Collins acknowledged. “Oh, I do so hate speculating like this on the basis of incomplete information, but yes, I do. Based on what we know of his teenage years here in Hampstead and what little we know of his time in Canada, then I think he does have the sort of psychopathic personality which would be consistent with him being a serial killer. But, as I’ve pointed out several times already, that doesn’t prove that he did actually kill Conrad Taylor. That’s a job for you chaps.”
“And for you, Peter,” Collison said with a grin as he got up to leave. “It’s you who’s going to be interviewing him, don’t forget. I have every confidence in you, by the way. If you can’t break him down then nobody can.”
“Oh dear, yes, I was forgetting that,” Collins said worriedly.
Taking off his glasses, he began to polish them in a distracted sort of way with his handkerchief.
CHAPTER 32
Raj sat impassively while Metcalfe turned on the tape recorder and recited the formal caution. Collison tried to gain some impression of the duty solicitor sitting alongside the suspect. He was an earnest-looking young man in glasses who already had his pen poised over his blue legal notebook with its perforated pages. Collison guessed that he was likely to be a stickler for the rules, but time would tell.
“Mr Rajarshi,” he began once Metcalfe had finished, “is it OK if I call you Raj? I understand everybody does.”
There was an almost imperceptible nod by way of response.
“As you know, you are being interviewed as a suspect in the murder of Conrad Taylor. You have been cautioned, and you have exercised your right to have a legal adviser present.”
“Speaking of which, Superintendent,” the young man cut in, “perhaps we could explore the status of this interview. My client has already been charged with Mr Taylor’s murder, and presumably you have also already taken the decision to proceed with his prosecution. In those circumstances I really must question whether it’s proper for you to be interviewing my client again.”
“Let me choose my words very carefully,” Collison replied. “It is of course true that your client has been charged with Mr Taylor’s murder. However it is not true – at least not from my viewpoint as the Senior Investigating Officer – that a final decision has been taken to launch a prosecution. If your client would rather not proceed with this interview, that is of course his prerogative. But I do assure you that I am still genuinely trying to eliminate him from our enquiries.”
He gazed steadily at the solicitor, who was the first to break eye contact.
“Very well,” he said unhappily. “I will allow the interview to proceed but I may at some stage advise my client not to answer particular questions.”
“That is of course what you are here for,” Collison observed, hoping that he was not coming across as sarcastic. “But, before we begin, there is a formal matter which I must raise with you.”
“What’s that?”
“Both DI Metcalfe and I have been made subject to the Official Secrets Act in respect of various issues which may form part of your client’s defence should this matter go to trial. I know that you are bound anyway by the usual duty of confidentiality to your client, but I must stress that you should not discuss anything you are going to hear during this interview with anyone other than your client, and his counsel should that become necessary. Is that understood, please?”
“Yes, of course,” from the lawyer, but with a clearly surprised sideways glance at his client.
“So, Raj,” Collison said, “it may interest you to know that we have been in contact with the police in Singapore. Is there anything you’d like to volunteer about that?”
A slight shake of the head was the only response.
“For the tape, the suspect has shaken his head. Very well. We understand from the Singapore police that you were sent to England in the guise of a refugee from Sri Lanka, but in fact as an undercover informant with a mission to penetrate and expose the British end of a fake passport racket.”
Raj again sat impassively while his lawyer, after an initial look of disbelief, hurriedly scribbled in his notebook.
“However, you didn’t stick to that mission, did you? On the contrary, having been allowed into the UK with temporary leave to remain pending further interviews, you simply disappeared. Why was that?”
Raj shrugged.
“Please do try to give verbal responses for the tape, Raj. You’ve just shrugged. What you mean by that? Are you denying what I’ve just said?”
“Please don’t put words into my client’s mouth, Superintendent,” the solicitor said. “Raj, perhaps it might be better if you simply said ‘no comment’ if you don’t want to answer a question.”
“Then no comment,” Raj said flatly.
“Very well. I should say however that we are quite confident we can prove in court everything I have just told you. It may interest you to know that our own police force – Special Branch to be precise – was informed of your mission by the authorities in Singapore and gave their permission for it to proceed as they were concerned that these forged passports might be used by terrorists to gain entry to the UK.”
The solicitor glanced at his client and then back at Collison.
“I think it’s clear my client doesn’t want to comment on that, Superintendent. Why don’t we proceed?”
“Very well, then let’s go directly to the circumstances surrounding the murder of Mr Taylor. How long had you been living with him, Raj?”
“About two years I guess.”
“Yes, and you’ve previously described to us how you came to meet him. But let me press you on one point. What was the nature of your relationship?”
“I lived with him and I worked for him. First just as a researcher, but then I took on all the rest of his stuff. I did the shopping because he didn’t like to go out. And he asked me to handle his financial stuff as well.”
“Let me just stop you there. I’m sure you can understand that it’s very important we get all of this absolutely right. When you say that he asked you to handle his financial affairs, how did he do that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, did he give you some sort of letter of authority to act on his behalf ?”
“No, nothing like that. He just asked me.”
“Do you remember when this was?”
“Maybe a year ago. Something like that.”
“Well, it may interest you to hear that we’ve asked the bank to send over everything they have on record concerning Conrad Taylor. We’ve also taken a statement from the bank manager, and the one before her. And there’s no record – nothing at all – to indicate that Mr Taylor ever gave anyone other than himself authority to operate his bank account.”
“He didn’t need to. We did everything online. All I needed was the password, and he gave it to me. The PIN on his cash card as well.”
“Well there again, perhaps we could explore that a little more deeply. You see, the bank told us that Conrad Taylor had never used online banking until a few months before his death. He seems to have been an old-fashioned sort of bloke who used cheques but nothing else. He even used cheques to draw out cash over the counter at his bank branch. Then suddenly the bank received a request for online banking, and at the same time the cash card which had been issued to Mr Taylor, but never previously used by him, became active. Somebody was using it to draw out cash on a regular basis, and that somebody was you, wasn’t it?”
“You know it was. There’s no secret about it. I told you al
l of this. Conrad asked me to use the card when he needed cash. He didn’t like going out of the house, so I did it for him.”
“And the online banking? How did that come about?”
“I told him that if he wanted me to look after his money it was much easier to do it online. I got the form from the bank and he filled it in and signed it.”
“I should tell you that we are having that signature examined by an expert and that his initial view is that although it is superficially similar to Mr Taylor’s, it is probably a forgery. If you magnify it, it appears to be made up of a number of individual strokes, exactly as you would expect from a rather amateur forger.”
“My client has not been charged with forgery, Superintendent, so I fail to see the relevance of this line of questioning.”
“It goes to the murder charge.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it does. It is at best background context, and largely irrelevant. My client is quite clear that the deceased gave him permission to operate his bank accounts. If you want to try to disprove that, so be it. But I’m going to advise my client not to comment further on these matters.”
“Very well, but in passing you will of course be aware as a lawyer that even if such authority was given by Mr Taylor it would have lapsed on his death, and your client has already admitted that he continued to withdraw cash from the account during the following weeks.”
“What my client has told you is a matter of record, Superintendent. Again, I would advise my client not to comment on these matters unless and until he is charged with some relevant offence.”
“Then let us come back to the moment when your client claims he discovered the dead body of Conrad Taylor. If, as you say, Raj, Mr Taylor was already dead why didn’t you simply come to the police straightaway? It must have been clear that he’d been murdered. Part of his head was bashed in, wasn’t it?”
“My client has already dealt with these matters,” the solicitor said, rummaging through the file and flourishing the earlier statement. “I really don’t see what purpose can be served by rehearsing all of it again. My client’s account is quite clear. He found Mr Taylor is dead, panicked, and ran away.”
“Yes, but why? Surely an innocent person would have been eager to report the crime as soon as possible? If he cared for Mr Taylor when he was alive, then surely he would be anxious to see his murderer caught?”
The solicitor sighed.
“Really, Superintendent! Your own case, as you’ve just outlined it, is that my client entered the country under false pretences and then absconded. That he became effectively an illegal immigrant who would surely be in danger of deportation were he to be apprehended by the police. Assuming that were in fact the case – and note that I say ‘assuming’, because we’re making no admissions on that score – then wouldn’t it be entirely logical and understandable for my client not to want to come into contact with the police? In which case, he wouldn’t have felt able to report the murder. That’s not the same thing as not wanting to report it. On the contrary, my client is very anxious for Mr Taylor’s killer to be identified and prosecuted.”
Collison sat silently for a moment and then, ignoring the solicitor, spoke directly to the suspect.
“But something you may not be aware of, Raj, is that things didn’t proceed according to plan. You see, it seems that there were some rogue police officers involved in the passport scam, and all the details of the enquiry were passed back to the criminals behind the scheme. One informant has already been murdered in Singapore, although they were supposed to be under police protection at the time. And it is possible – and I must stress that we don’t know for certain – that a hired killer has been dispatched to the UK to take care of you.”
Raj looked visibly shocked, as did his solicitor.
“Are sure about this?” the latter asked.
“No, as I said, we can’t be absolutely certain. But I can tell you quite truthfully that information to that effect has been received by Special Branch and that they are taking it very seriously. So, in the circumstances, if there is anything that your client would like to tell us about the people behind these forgeries then he would be doing himself a huge favour. Not only might it make a jury more inclined to believe his story about the murder, but it might help Special Branch locate and arrest whoever it is has been sent over here to find him and – we believe – kill him.”
Raj swallowed hard while the other three occupants of the room stared at him.
“No comment,” he croaked at last.
An idea suddenly occurred to the solicitor.
“Has it occurred to you,” he asked, glancing first at Collison and then at Metcalfe, “that whoever this hired killer might be could have called at the house, found my client out, and killed Mr Taylor? To send a message to my client, perhaps?”
“Yes, it has occurred to us,” Collison said evenly. “But the fact remains that your client is the obvious suspect in this case. Just think about how it will look to a jury. He entered the country illegally and then absconded from the immigration authorities. It is common ground that he’s been operating the deceased’s bank account, both before and after his death. He lived with the deceased, on a basis which has yet to be fully explained, for some time. He was the only person other than the deceased who had access to the murder scene. He admits to having discovered the body of the deceased. He claims to want to see the murder apprehended, yet took no steps to make the police aware that the death had even occurred. He ran away from the murder scene and was later arrested by some of my officers while withdrawing money using the cash card of a man he knew to be dead.”
He paused, giving time to his words to be considered by the two men on the other side of the table. The solicitor pretended to be absorbed in jotting down a few further notes, but then glanced quickly at his client, who shook his head once again. Collison felt frustration building within him; it was obvious that Raj was not telling the whole story, and becoming equally obvious that they weren’t going to get it out of him.
“Interview terminated at 1158,” he said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.
CHAPTER 33
John Schneider was also accompanied by a solicitor, though this one was less of an unknown quantity as he appeared regularly at Hampstead police station, as well as at local magistrates courts. He was a middle-aged man in a shabby suit and as they sat together in the second interview room Willis was acutely reminded that he habitually smelt in equal parts of stale cigarette smoke and body odour. As she finished the business with the tape machine she was wishing that she had applied just an extra few dabs of perfume before entering the room.
“Now then, John,” she said after they had all identified themselves for the tape, “you do realise that this interview is proceeding under caution, don’t you? You were cautioned by the duty Sergeant when you arrived at the police station and I’m sure your solicitor has advised you what that means.”
“So, just for the record,” the solicitor commented, “my client is being interviewed as a suspect is he?”
“He is one of a number of suspects whom we are trying to eliminate from our enquiries, yes.”
“And I’m sorry, but I didn’t quite catch this gentleman’s rank…?”
“Oh, I’m not a police officer,” Collins explained, taking off his glasses and rubbing them gently on his handkerchief. “I’m a psychologist.”
“Dr Collins is a registered adviser to the Metropolitan Police,” Willis said hastily, “and has assisted us with a number of investigations. He has some questions which he’d like to put to your client.”
“This all sounds very irregular,” the solicitor said sourly, “but go ahead and ask your questions. I can’t guarantee that I will advise my client to answer them though.”
“I wanted to ask you about Susan, John,” Collins began. “Do you remember her well?”
“Sue? Sure I do. Why shouldn’t I?”
“No reason at all. On the contra
ry, we all tend to have very strong memories of our first love.”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
“And she was that, wasn’t she, as I understand it? Your first love I mean.”
“Sure, I was in love with her.”
“And she with you?”
“Of course she was. What are you getting at?”
“Well, if she was in love with you as you say, how do you explain the fact that she might have been offering herself to other men, presumably for money?”
“That’s rubbish, that is. I told you lot that when you tried it on before.”
“We do have evidence from two different witnesses, including someone who was one of her best friends at school.”
“What do they know about it? She was my girlfriend, so I should know.”
“When Karen here – sorry, my colleague that is – put this to you before you said that you and Susan weren’t having sex together. Is that right?”
“Yeah, what of it? She said she wanted to wait. Well, for full sex anyway. She was only 15 you know. And that’s why this is such crap, what you’re talking about. If she wasn’t having sex with her own boyfriend, why would she be offering it around to other men?”
“For money, we understand, but just for the record, so far as you’re aware she wasn’t indulging in any sexual activity – on whatever basis – with anybody other than you?”
“Of course she wasn’t. Why, if I’d thought for a moment she was up to anything like that I’d-”
He stopped suddenly.
“You’d what, John?” Collins asked softly.
“Well, I’d have done something about it, wouldn’t I?”
“Yes, I rather think you would. Like that other boy when Susan wanted to get fresh with him, do you remember? You punched him in the face and broke his nose.”
“So? I got angry. It could have happened to anybody. And anyway, it wasn’t her getting fresh with him, it was the other way round. I told him to stop and he wouldn’t, so I hit him. Simple as that.”
“It’s interesting that you think that, John.”
The House on Downshire Hill Page 22