‘And because you were alone, I’ve only got your word for it. Any other patrol officer attending the scene would have someone to back his version of events.’
Stillman shook his head, apparently in disbelief.
‘From what you told me the morning of the shooting, Ken Lockton saw you at the scene in Walcot Street and told you to drive him up to the Paragon.’
‘That was after he worked out where the shots came from. He was the duty inspector that night so he became the SIO. He knew me quite well.’
‘Why did he need the car? Why not use the steps?’
‘I, em, can’t say.’
‘But you have a theory.’
A sigh. ‘What difference does my opinion make?’
‘Come off it, sergeant. You’re uniquely placed to say what was going on.’
‘Well, I got the idea Ken felt important. He wanted to be driven. He and I were sergeants together for quite some time before he got promoted.’
‘He was lording it over you?’
‘I wouldn’t put it in those terms. There was more to it. I think he wanted company in case the sniper was still up there in the garden.’
‘Sensible. But then you say he sent you away.’
‘That was after we found the gun and decided the sniper might be coming back for it.’
‘Two of you would have been better at making the arrest.’
‘Yes, but Ken wanted the car moved away from the front of the house. It would have alerted the sniper.’
‘True.’
‘And he made it very clear to me that I wasn’t to come back’
‘Why was that?’
‘He thought he could make the arrest on his own.’
‘Big mistake,’ Diamond said. ‘Do you think the sniper was hiding in the garden all the time?’
‘That’s possible. You saw the height of those weeds.’
For all his jumpiness, Stillman had been pretty convincing. His nervousness at the beginning could have been down to fear of being found out after he gave his partner unofficial time off.
‘Let’s fast forward,’ Diamond said. ‘You slept in the car for a couple of hours and then woke up and found out about Lockton being clobbered and taken to hospital. Must have been a hairy moment for you.’
‘Extremely.’
‘You did the right thing reporting to me and telling all. If I remember correctly, I advised you to go home and get some proper sleep. Is that what you did?’
He nodded.
‘So you weren’t among the AFOs who were present in Becky Addy Wood the same day?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Or on the night shift?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Diamond said in his bull-in-a-china-shop mode, ‘but doesn’t the training of an AFO include some orienteering and living rough?’
The man may have been punch drunk by this stage. He showed no sign of alarm. ‘It does, but I’ve never had cause to put any of that into practice in real life.’
‘I should hope not, because the sniper is an expert at both.’
Now Stillman blushed deeply. A blush is not necessarily proof of guilt, Diamond knew. It could have been caused by the sergeant’s realisation that he was firmly in the frame.
DC Paul Gilbert came into the incident room as wide-eyed as if he’d spotted the Loch Ness monster in the Roman Bath. ‘Guess what the boss is up to.’
It was mid-afternoon and most of the team were present, collating information and dealing with witness statements.
Everyone looked up. Not enough had been happening in CID since that uncomfortable meeting yesterday. They’d not seen much of Peter Diamond. They wouldn’t have admitted it, but some were actually missing him.
Halliwell spoke first. ‘Fill us in, then.’
‘He’s downstairs with that sergeant who fell asleep in his car.’
‘Steve Stillman? What’s so special about that?’ John Leaman asked.
‘Using interview room 2?’ Gilbert said, refusing to be downed. ‘The word from Jenny in the control room is that he was waiting in the yard to meet Stillman’s patrol car when he came off duty. They went in looking as if World War III had broken out, both of them.’
‘Going over his story again, I expect,’ Leaman said.
Halliwell said in support, ‘It’s no big deal, using an interview room to talk to a fellow officer. My guess is he didn’t want us to hear about it in case we get the idea he’s picking us off one by one. It would have looked bad if he’d come up here with Stillman in tow.’
‘He’s made up his mind the sniper is in-house,’ Gilbert said.
‘He’d better think again, then,’ Ingeborg said from her side of the room. ‘In-house he is not. The report has come in from forensics. It’s on my screen now. The guy living rough in the woods is definitely the sniper.’
‘How do they know?’
‘Matching shoe prints. There was a good set in the pillbox at Avoncliff. They’re a perfect match with another set taken from the tree-house at the Wells shooting.’
‘That’s it, then,’ Leaman said. ‘Who’s going to tell the boss?’
‘What’s more, there were more of the same along the countryside walk where the sniper was almost caught last night.’
‘Shoe prints aren’t as reliable as fingerprints,’ Halliwell said. ‘I’ve heard of mistakes being made with shoe evidence.’
Gilbert said, ‘He’s bright enough not to have touched anything except the gun.’
‘It’s not just the make of shoe he was wearing,’ Ingeborg said. ‘It’s the wear on the shoes, all those little grooves and nicks. They’re in no doubt.’
‘Pity we don’t have a national database for shoe prints, like we do for fingerprints,’ Halliwell said.
‘Now you’re being facetious,’ Ingeborg said. ‘This is good evidence. No way is he in-house, as Paul suggested, not in any sense. He’s very much out in the open and he can’t be one of ours, living rough like that. There’s no reason for a cop to go on the run.’
‘Are you going to tell the guv’nor?’ Leaman asked her.
‘I’ll have to, won’t I?’
‘I’d like to see his face.’
‘We’ll all see it when he comes upstairs.’
He did, several minutes later, all smiles. ‘Afternoon, people,’ he said, and before Ingeborg or anyone else could speak he told them he’d just had a profitable session with Sergeant Stillman. The word ‘session’ made it sound like a chat over a glass of beer. He was more buoyant than he’d been all week. ‘Things are starting to emerge,’ he said, ‘things some of us may find difficult to deal with. Keep this strictly to yourselves for the present. There was gossip — and it may be no more than that — about Harry Tasker, to the effect that he was on the take.’
Ingeborg took a sharp, indignant breath. ‘That’s so mean, regardless of whether it’s true. The poor man is dead and his own fellow officers are slagging him off?’
‘Which is why we’re going to deal with it discreetly.’
‘I don’t think we should deal with it at all.’
‘Worthy sentiments, Inge, but you’re wrong. It’s got to be investigated. We may have found the motive for Harry’s murder. If he was demanding pay-offs from people up to no good, he was playing with fire.’
‘You said it’s only gossip.’
‘And sometimes gossip is true. Harry was one of the longest-serving beat constables and he thought he was entitled to special treatment. He was very protective of his own beat, unwilling to switch with anyone else.’
