‘Well, you’re not interviewing him, Inspector Brook,’ barked Charlton, resurrecting a little righteous indignation. ‘Not after your stunt with Brian Burton. Whether you’re right about Ottoman or not.’
‘That’s okay, sir. Joshua and Laura know the questions.’ Brook smiled over at Grant, who acknowledged his confidence with a nod.
Momentarily appeased, Charlton returned his thoughts to the film. ‘I don’t get it. If Ottoman’s not our man, it means the killer shot these images. Shouldn’t he be getting away?’
‘And why send us the film at all?’ asked Hudson. ‘If Ottoman goes down for this, the real killer’s off the hook. This film means we’re still looking.’
‘It’s not about that,’ said Grant, looking over at Brook again. ‘Ottoman’s a civilian. The Reaper doesn’t want the innocent coming to harm. This film gets him off.’
‘But that’s not why they were shooting a film,’ said Brook. ‘You see, they lured me there hoping to shoot something to blackmail me.’
‘Blackmail? You?’
Brook sighed. ‘The Reaper has killed everyone but Wallis. He, or they, left him there for me. They thought I’d kill Wallis if they set it up.’
The room erupted.
‘You?’
‘What?’
‘Why?’
When it died down Brook picked his way round the words. ‘Two years ago Wallis broke into my flat and killed my cat. The Reaper thinks I’ll take my revenge. He lures me there with the promise of a meeting and leaves the weapon for me to cut Jason’s throat. He sets up a camcorder in the North house and shoots the film we just saw. Up to that point, everything has run smoothly. The Ingham family are dead, so are two of Stephen’s friends. Protective sheets and bloody garments have been packed into rucksacks. The mountain bikes are waiting in Mrs North’s yard for a quick getaway. They’re just waiting for me. But there’s a rogue element they haven’t factored in.’
‘Ottoman,’ said Grant.
‘He arrives and finds the bodies. Remember the phone call. “They’re all dead.” Ottoman has found Jason’s phone and does what any good citizen would do. He takes off his glove without thinking and leaves a print. Only he gets it wrong. He thinks they’re all dead but Jason’s alive — ironically the one person on earth he’d like to see dead.
‘Ottoman had already seen the scalpel and in his fevered brain thought he could lay these killings off on Jason. Some kind of payback for everything his wife has suffered. He picked up the scalpel and put it under Jason’s hand. After the phone call it all started to crash in on him. Maybe he hears a noise, maybe Jason starts moving, but he gets spooked and jumps over the fence leaving us his DNA. But he has one piece of luck. There are two bikes in the yard. He grabs one and rides home as fast as he can. The next morning Ottoman is haunted by what he’s seen. He has to get away. He argues with his wife, who is terrified to leave the house, but in the end persuades her to come with him and off they go to Dover.’
‘Very interesting,’ said Charlton. ‘But what about our killers?’
Brook shrugged. ‘They do what’s necessary. They’ve done this before, they don’t panic, they improvise. One of them gets away on the remaining bike, the other … on foot, I hope.’
‘Where do they go from there?’ asked Hudson.
Brook looked up at Noble. ‘I’m starting to think they may have a safe house in the city. A property The Reaper’s had for a while, maybe from before the Wallis killings even.’
‘It would explain a lot,’ conceded Hudson after a pause.
‘What do you mean, you hope one got away on foot?’ asked Charlton.
‘He means that with one bike gone, the second Reaper either got away on foot or…’ Grant hesitated, looking over at Brook. He confirmed her analysis with a nod.
‘Or what?’ demanded Charlton.
‘Or he may have had to sit tight in the North house and watch us at work,’ answered Grant. Brook smiled at her. ‘Then how did he get away?’
‘Oh shit!’ exclaimed Hudson, putting a hand to his forehead. Charlton looked at him, still none the wiser. ‘How many dozens of people did we have working on the scene in protective suits and masks?’
Charlton’s brain was working overtime and a second later his mouth fell open. ‘You mean he may have walked out of Mrs North’s house pretending to be Scene of Crime? Oh God. If the press ever find out…’
‘Let’s just hope we didn’t give him a lift back into town,’ added Brook, with a grimace.
Brook and Charlton were forced to sit side by side. They were in the anteroom behind the one-way mirror that showed only Hudson, Grant and Ottoman in reflection on the other side. So far John Ottoman had refused to speak.
‘Mr Ottoman, we have a witness who saw someone of your height and build, wearing a ski mask identical to the one recovered from your home, loitering outside the Ingham house just a few hours before a multiple murder. Any comment?’ Ottoman looked away from Hudson, tight-lipped.
‘We also have a witness who puts you on the estate at the time of an assault earlier that evening — an assault involving Jason Wallis, which you broke up. We know you were on the Drayfin that night.’
Ottoman ignored Hudson and stared saucer-eyed into the mirror. Brook felt as though he were visible and shifted his position.
Finally Ottoman relented. ‘I’ve told you. Let my wife go first. Then I’ll talk to you.’
‘We can’t do that, sir. One of you was at the Ingham house at or near the time of the murders,’ said Grant. ‘We’ve matched DNA left on the fence with a hair found in your home. Unless you confirm it was you at the Ingham house, your wife stays here until Forensics gives us a definitive match.’
Ottoman looked at her impassively, knuckles white.
‘We have a thumbprint on Jason Wallis’s mobile phone and your voice on tape, not to mention blood from the victims on your clothing and a mountain bike found in your home. Do yourself some good here, Mr Ottoman. If you’ve got a reasonable explanation for all this, now’s the time to tell us.’
Grant looked over at Hudson, then back at Ottoman. She stood up and wandered away, affecting disinterest. ‘One thing I don’t understand, John. Why murder these people but leave Jason Wallis alive? With your history,’ she shrugged, ‘it should have been easy to cut the dirty little bastard’s throat. And let’s face it, nobody would ever miss him. If anyone deserved killing, it was that little shit.’ Grant looked over at the two-way mirror and Brook stared back.
Ottoman looked at the floor then shook his head. He’d reached the tipping point. ‘Scare him. That’s all I wanted. Not kill.’
‘You just wanted to scare him but the other boys wouldn’t let you so you killed them. That what happened?’
Ottoman squinted into Hudson’s face. ‘I didn’t kill anyone.’
‘Then who did? Tell us.’ Hudson paused. ‘Give us a full statement now and I promise your wife will go home tonight.’
Ottoman stared at the wall, processing the deal as best he could. ‘She’d need a lift. She doesn’t like being outside.’ Hudson held his hands out in agreement. Ottoman sighed. ‘I was there. I’d been following Jason for a while, since news of his release. I waited outside his aunt’s house. You know — the one in Borrowash. He was scared, I knew. Like all bullies. The Reaper was still at large so…’
‘So you put on the black garb and stalked him.’
‘That’s right. To frighten him. That’s all I did. I didn’t kill anyone. I couldn’t. All I did was stalk Jason. I followed him in Borrowash and round the Drayfin. He was afraid of The Reaper. Terrified.’ Ottoman cracked a bitter smile. ‘That first night he saw me and ran. I chased him for miles, up by the river, round the back of Elvaston. He hid. But near dawn I caught him. And you know what? He collapsed — a young lad like that. I thought he was having a heart attack.’ Ottoman laughed, forgetting his guilt for a moment. He remembered a second later, restoring solemnity. ‘I stood over him and he cried at my feet. He begged me not to kill him, said he was sorry about some cat, sorry about some old woman.’ Ottoman shrugged. ‘I thought he meant Denise at first, but now I’m
