into interview room number one, my lucky room.
Nigel and I joined them immediately. We noticed that Dewhurst's concession to grief was a black tie and matching cufflinks. His designer stubble was as well groomed as ever, but he looked gaunt under his tan. Or was it worried?
'Thanks for coming,' I said briskly. 'This shouldn't take long.'
When we were seated, us on one side of the table, them on the other, Nigel said: 'This is a taped interview with Mr. Miles Dewhurst.' He gave the time and date and went on: 'Could I ask those present to identify themselves. I'm Detective Sergeant Newley…' He pointed to each of us in turn.
'DI Priest,' I said.
'Miles Dewhurst,' in an irritated tone.
'Oh, er, I'm Mr. Wylie, senior partner with Dean and Mason, Mr.
Dewhurst's solicitor.'
I said: 'Thank you, gentlemen. Mr. Dewhurst, you are no doubt aware that you have been under a certain amount of suspicion. I have to tell you that in spite of recent developments that suspicion still exists.
It is my duty to inform you that you are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but anything you do say may be put in writing and given in evidence. Do you understand what I am saying, Mr.
Dewhurst?'
His indignation was on the verge of boiling over. He gathered himself together, considering whether to appear affronted or cooperative. Mr.
Wylie's hand reached out and fell on his arm. 'It's all right, Miles,' he said. 'Mr. Priest is just doing it by the book.'
I repeated the question: 'Do you understand the caution, sir?'
He nodded.
'For the tape, sir.'
'Yes. I understand.'
'Thank you.'
Nigel took it up, as per the game plan. 'Mr. Dewhurst, could you briefly describe your movements on the Friday before Georgina's disappearance?'
He shuffled and cleared his throat. 'Er, I had some appointments through the day. I'd have to look in my diary to be precise.'
'That's good enough. And in the evening?'
'Well, after work I picked Georgina up from the child minder's and we went to fetch Mrs. Eaglin, her grandma. She'd prepared a meal for us.
Afterwards we all come back toHeckley.'
He was talking. That was what we wanted. I said: 'And what did you do Saturday?'
He sat back in his chair, making himself more comfortable. These were easy questions; no problem.
'Saturday morning I worked. Paperwork in the office.'
'At the factory or an office at home?'
'The factory. I went straight from there to the golf club. Had a sandwich and a round of golf.'
'Where do you play, sir?'
'Brandersthorpe.'
Best in the area. You could buy a small car with the membership fee. I said: 'And in the evening?'
'Watched a kids' video with Georgina. Watched grownup TV and had a couple of beers after she'd gone to bed.'
He was relaxing. Now it was Nigel's turn again. 'And on Sunday?' he said.
Dewhurst stretched his arms forward on to the table and interlocked his fingers. He stared at his hands as he spoke:
'Golf in the morning. Home for lunch. In the afternoon I watched sport on the box. Mrs. Eaglin and Georgina went to the park to feed the ducks. Afterwards we took Mrs. Eaglin home. Georgina and I left there at about seven and went for a pizza. It's… it was her favourite.'
'Which brings us to Monday morning,' I said.
Dewhurst pushed himself upright. 'For heaven's sake, Inspector. We've been through this a dozen times…'
He was getting cocky. He thought he'd survived the worst we had to offer. 'We'd like it down on tape, if you don't mind, sir. And you are still under caution, of course.' No harm in reminding him.
He folded his arms and addressed the table, speaking in short sentences as if addressing an idiot. 'I dropped Georgina off at the bus station.
I bought a paper. I didn't see Georgina on to the bus because I was double-parked. Then I did my day's work. I came home to find you in my house.' He looked up and our eyes met briefly. I felt like Rikki-tikki-tavi, nailing Nag the cobra.
'Thank you. Could you expand on your movements after you left the bus station, please?'
'If you insist, Inspector.'
I did, I most certainly did.
He went on: 'I drove round the one-way system and headed out on the Manchester Road. I had an appointment at a company called Ashurst's, in Stockport, at nine o'clock. It was about ten past when I arrived. I had a puncture in their yard and had to cancel my next appointment.
After that I think I went to Heaton's in Kidsgrove, but again I'd have to check my diary to be sure.'
'A puncture?' I said, raising an eyebrow like a bad thespian. 'That was unfortunate. Were you in the Toyota?'
'No, the Patrol.'
'So who repaired it for you?' I asked.
'Really, Inspector. Is all this necessary? It's my daughter's murder you're supposed to be investigating; not who repaired a puncture for me!'
'OK, let me put it another way. Were you anywhere near Capstick Colliery on that Monday morning?'
'No. Most certainly not!'
'Thank you. In that case is there any way in which you can verify your whereabouts?'
He gave a big sigh and sank back in his chair, saying: 'I'm sorry, Inspector. I didn't realise what you were getting at. The mechanic at Ashurst's put the spare on, then took the Patrol to the local tyre depot, ATS Tyres, and had a new one fitted. Mr. Black, MD at Ashurst's, kindly offered to put it on their account. It should all be in their books, somewhere. I wasn't given any of the paperwork.'
Wylie, the solicitor, decided to earn his fee. He smiled and said: 'I must say, Inspector, you had me wondering where your questions were leading, but I'm sure my client has given a satisfactory account of his movements. Both Ashurst's and the tyre depot will have details of the transaction.'
'No doubt,' I agreed. 'So let's get this clear, and I would remind you that you are still under caution. You went to Ashurst's and had a puncture. Their mechanic took the Patrol to ATS Tyres and had a new one fitted. When it was returned to you it had five good tyres with the spare in its proper place under the back of the vehicle. Is that what happened?'
'Yes.'
'You're certain of that?'
'Well, yes.'
'Have you or anybody else removed or touched the spare since then?'
'No.'
'Has the vehicle been in for a service?'
'No.'
'Good.' When I'd entered the interview room I was carrying a folder.
So that it didn't cause a distraction, I'd placed it on the floor, leaning against the leg of my chair. Now I reached down and retrieved it. 'In which case,' I said, 'perhaps you could explain this.' I removed the two black and white prints that Van Rees had given me and shoved them across the table.
Wylie leaned forward, interested. Dewhurst looked scared. 'I… d-don't understand,' he stuttered.
