No Smoke Without Fire. Paul Gitsham

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ you so badly.”

      Sutton turned back. “Doesn’t make you feel any better though, does it? Makes you feel even more humiliated. And how do you tell your mates? Or the blokes at work? And what about your mum and dad? If she leaves you can you afford the rent on your own? It’s back to the granny flat with your tail between your legs. And what about the whispering? I’ll bet there’s a few crass enough to tell her it’s for the best and bring up the whole Kim Bradshaw thing. No wonder you were so angry.”

      Blackheath was now crying. “No, never. It never happened like that. I know what you’re saying, that I was so angry about being dumped by Sally that I killed her. But I didn’t. I couldn’t do that to her. She never said anything about finding the ring. And even if she had, I’d never lay a finger on her. I love her too much.”

      For the next few moments, the room was silent, save for Blackheath’s sobbing. Eventually, he wiped his eyes and sniffed loudly. “I’m not going to say another word without a lawyer.” He nodded towards the tape machine. “I was stupid to say anything without one.”

      Warren shrugged. “No need for a lawyer. Like I said, you aren’t under arrest and are free to leave at any time. We have no more questions. Interview terminated at witness’ request.” Stating the time, he leant forward and turned off the tape recorder.

      “Thank you for your time, Mr Blackheath. Would you like a lift back to work, or can we arrange for a cab to take you home?”

      Blackheath could only look on with surprise. “I’ll walk,” he mumbled.

      With that, Warren called the duty sergeant. Within a minute, the young man was out on the street, breathing in the icy December air.

      * * *

      Back in the interview room, Warren polled his fellow officers. “Thoughts?”

      “I think he’s genuine. I rattled his cage good and hard but his story never changed. My gut tells me he didn’t do it.” Sutton shrugged apologetically as if sorry that he hadn’t been able to wring a confession out of the young man.

      “I have to agree with DI Sutton, sir. He seemed genuine when we saw him yesterday and he hasn’t changed a single detail since then. I think he really did love her. I also think her father was wrong and that she was going to marry him.”

      Warren agreed with both Sutton and Hardwick. “My gut feeling is exactly the same. But we can’t completely rule him out without eyewitness evidence or forensics—” he glanced at his watch “—which I am expecting any minute. Tell you what, why don’t you two go and have an early lunch? We’ll get the rest of the team together and have a meeting at one p.m.”

      “Yes, sir,” both officers replied as Warren left the room.

      Karen Hardwick turned to Sutton. “How do you do it, sir?”

      Sutton knew what she was asking about. “You just have to put aside your feelings. It doesn’t matter if you feel sorry for them or not. Policing isn’t a popularity contest. Sometimes you have to be harsh and nasty, because it’s a harsh and nasty world.” He grimaced slightly. “Even if it does leave an unpleasant taste in your mouth.”

      “Well, when we find the real killer, hopefully he’ll understand.”

      Sutton shrugged. “Time will tell.”

      Suddenly the door opened again and the desk sergeant poked his head around the door. “DCI Jones says don’t be late back from lunch. Blackheath’s off the hook and you’ve got a new suspect.”

Chapter 15

      After a revelation like that, lunch was the last thing on Sutton’s and Hardwick’s minds and both raced upstairs to the CID main office. One p.m. was nearly an hour away and detectives by their very nature were insatiably curious; there was no way that the two officers were going to wait to find out what had been discovered. Unfortunately, the door to Warren’s office was closed. The DCI’s rules were very clear — if the door was open, they could knock and enter. If the door was closed, they shouldn’t knock unless it was an emergency. Sutton looked at Carol, Warren’s unofficial PA. She shrugged apologetically and pointed at the highly complex telephone unit that sat on her desk. “He’s in there with DC Hastings on a conference call.”

      “Any idea who he’s talking to?” blurted Karen Hardwick, without thinking.

      Carol pursed her lips in disapproval. “I’m sure that if DCI Jones wants you to know who he is talking to on his private line, he will tell you himself, Detective Constable.”

      Hardwick blushed and stared at her shoes.

      Sutton thanked Carol for her assistance and led the embarrassed constable away.

      “OK, plan B. When Gary comes out of there and you two disappear off for lunch together, you find out what he’s got.”

      Hardwick turned even redder. “What do you mean ‘disappear off for lunch together’?”

      Sutton looked at her in amusement. “You’re working with a team of trained observers, Karen. How long did you two think you’d keep it quiet?”

      Karen covered her face with her hands. “Oh, no. We were so careful, trying to be professional at work.”

      Belatedly Sutton realised why she was so uncomfortable. “Don’t worry, lass. Nobody thinks otherwise. So long as you keep your private life at home, nobody cares.” He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “If anything, the guv thinks you make a sweet couple.”

      Karen moaned as if in pain.

      “I’m not really helping, am I?” asked Sutton.

      “No, sir, not really.”

      * * *

      The briefing room was packed with team members, all eager to hear the latest developments. Warren called for quiet and the buzz of conversation settled down. Neither Karen nor Tony Sutton had managed to speak to DCI Jones or DC Hastings, so they were still in the dark about the new suspect.

      Warren decided to address the question of Darren Blackheath first, handing over to Gary Hastings.

      The DC shuffled the piece of paper in front of him. “I have the remaining results from the house-to-house inquiries conducted with Sally Evans’ neighbours. We’ve finally spoken to everyone on the estate. It’s the usual story: half the neighbours didn’t recognise her photo and most of the rest couldn’t remember what they were doing that evening. Those that knew the couple said that they seemed ‘nice enough’ and never had any bother. There was no evidence that there were any problems.

      “The night she went missing, most couldn’t recall if Blackheath’s car had been present earlier in the evening, before her mother and Cheryl came around. However, we finally found one eyewitness who claims to be certain that he saw Blackheath’s car about six-thirty, before he went out to join his wife at the local bingo hall. I showed him a picture of the car and he said he recognised it immediately.” He gestured towards a picture of the car projected on the far wall. “Let’s face it, he’s hardly going to be mistaken.”

      A polite titter went around the room. Darren Blackheath’s СКАЧАТЬ