‘Anderson set up their encounter weeks ago, long before he killed Danny Wade.’
‘How do you know that? I mean, if Kevin’s still off his face?’
‘Because I’m the one they have to ask for time off, and Kevin booked this morning off at least a month ago. Anderson was impersonating a freelance motoring journalist who wanted to write about Kevin and his car.’
‘I knew he was planning ahead. But this is gob-smacking. Is he talking?’ Tony asked.
‘Doh,’ said Chris through a red-stained cloth she was holding to her nose. ‘Dot a word.’
‘He doesn’t want a lawyer, refuses to speak. He won’t even admit to being Anderson.’ Carol slumped into a chair and turned to Tony. ‘We found a pessary and a bottle of anti-retroviral drugs in his jacket. We’ve got witnesses that can put him alongside the victims and we’ve got access to the poison garden. But I would like a confession. Any bright ideas?’
‘Let me talk to him.’
‘You know that’s not how it works,’ Carol said.
‘We’ve done it before.’
‘But not with the eyes of the world on us the way they will be for Robbie Bishop’s killer.’
‘He’s not talking, Carol. What have you got to lose?’
She looked away, struggling with her need to do this by the book versus her need to get a confession. She knew her team was watching her, willing her to do what was necessary to get this boxed off and put away. They needed a proper result, not a partial one. ‘OK,’ she sighed. ‘But only if we do it under caution and he agrees to have the tapes running.’
‘Deal,’ Tony said.
He pushed himself on to his crutches and began to move towards the door. ‘Where is Paula?’ Carol said. ‘And Sam? I could do with them out at Kirkby Pannal with the forensics crew searching Anderson’s cottage.’
Stacey and Tony exchanged a look. They both knew answering Carol’s question might well demolish Tony’s chances of getting to talk to Jack Anderson. ‘Off on some lead about Aziz,’ Stacey said.
Tony hid his amazement. Stacey didn’t dig people out of holes. Then he remembered who was out on the street with Paula and it began to make a kind of sense. He gave her a quick nod when Carol’s eyes were elsewhere, then headed for the custody suite.
News of a major arrest always spreads fast in a police station. By the time Tony and Carol emerged from the MIT squad room, people were standing in doorways, calling out congratulations, applauding as they passed. Even the doorway to the CTC’s base was crowded with men in black offering taciturn support. As they waited in the hallway, the lift disgorged David and Johnny. ‘Nice one,’ David said, passing Tony and Carol on their way into the lift.
‘I hear he’s not talking, though,’ Johnny added. ‘Let’s hope the lads in the white suits come up with something solid for you.’
The doors closed before Carol could answer. Tony said, ‘You’ll be glad to get them out of your hair.’
Carol snorted. ‘That’s not going to happen any time soon.’
‘Ah. Well, the thing is-’ The lift stopped and two civilian staff got on. Not the time to tell her about Rachel Diamond.
Walking from the lift to the custody suite didn’t offer much of an opportunity either, given how much concentration it took. And besides, he wanted to get his head straight before he confronted Stalky at last. Sufficient unto the day, he thought. At the custody desk, a technician fitted the tiny earpiece that would allow Carol to communicate with him, then they were off again down the hallway.
Carol stopped before one of the interview room doors. ‘As soon as I hear anything from the CSIs searching his cottage I’ll let you know. Good luck.’ She held the door open for him.
The time it took to get across the room gave Tony the opportunity to take a look at Jack Anderson. Seated, it was hard to gauge his height, but judging by his frame, Tony thought he was probably a little under six feet. He was twenty-six, the same age as Robbie Bishop, and he looked in good shape. Designer stubble, well barbered, no visible tattoos, a single diamond stud earring. He was wearing the jacket to his suit over his bare chest. On him, it looked like a fashion statement. And he was handsome, even with the swollen lump on his jaw where Malory had felled him. He looked good on his photograph, but in the flesh he was even more attractive. It was easy to see that he’d had no trouble attracting girls. The young Robert Redford, only with dark hair and better skin, Tony thought. And cool as Paul Newman at any age.
Anderson’s face didn’t show a flicker of expression as Tony struggled across the room and into a chair. ‘I’m Tony Hill,’ he said as soon as he was settled. ‘I work with the police. I’m a profiler.’
One corner of his mouth twitched in a crooked smile. ‘Like
Tony suppressed a smile. Once the silence was broken, it was that much harder to go back there. ‘No problems with drink or gambling either,’ Tony said cheerfully. ‘You’ve been advised of your rights?’ Anderson nodded. ‘You don’t want a lawyer?’ He shook his head. ‘And you know that this interview is being recorded?’
‘It makes no odds, since I don’t plan to say anything of consequence.’ Anderson leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. To embarrass myself by quoting Billy Joel, “I am an innocent man.”’
Tony nodded. ‘I think at one level you genuinely believe that. But I also think you know that’s going to be hard to sustain in practical terms. The police already have some evidence, and there’s going to be a lot more. However justified you believe your killings may have been, the hard truth is that in a day or two you’re going to be charged with three murders. And that would be because you killed three men.’
Anderson said nothing. His face had returned to its former immobility.
‘I’m going to call you Jack,’ Tony said. ‘I know that whatever happened three years ago makes you feel Jack is dead, but he’s the one I know most about, so Jack it’s going to be. I think of that boy Jack, and my heart goes out to him. Lots of kids grow up without dads. I’m one of them, so I understand a bit about what that means. But my
