There was no doubt in her mind. She’d found Harrison Gardner.
45
When police officers have insufficient evidence, they tend to go on fishing expeditions. That’s not generally an option open to profilers; we have to wait for the evidence to come to us.
From Reading Crimes by DR TONY HILL
‘We need to bring in Mark Conway,’ Rutherford said. ‘Good work, Paula. It would have been great if you’d broken the wee shite, but how you read his reactions is good enough for me. Let’s get Conway in and nail him to the wall. Eight murders, and nobody joined up the dots? What kind of coppering do they go in for in Bradfield?’
‘All due respect, sir, we’ve got no evidence.’ It was Sophie who spoke up. Paula couldn’t disagree with her.
Rutherford scowled. ‘We’re not arresting him, just inviting him to come in and answer some questions.’
‘Which he might not want to answer,’ Paula said.
‘Most people don’t know they can just tell us to piss off,’ Steve said. ‘Chances are he’ll come right along with you. He might be screaming for his brief all the way, but he’ll come.’
‘Steve’s right,’ Rutherford said. ‘Set Paula on him with the psychological thumbscrews and we’ll get something. Meanwhile, Stacey, pass all the contacts from Martinu’s computer on to Karim. Karim, talk to them. See what they know about the set-up between Conway and his cousin. And Sophie – you worked for Conway. You must know people in the organisation you can talk to about him. Do some digging, use your contacts. Remember, we’re the ones you owe your loyalty to now.’
Sophie looked, Paula thought, as if she’d swallowed some particularly unpleasant medicine. She was going to have to learn the hard way that when you were a cop, all the old allegiances counted for nothing. You drew on the bank of trust till you’d leached it dry. It never ceased to amaze her that she’d managed to hold fast to Elinor. But maybe it was simply that so far, she hadn’t needed anything from Elinor that wasn’t given freely. ‘You want me to front up Conway?’ she asked.
‘It makes sense,’ Rutherford confirmed. ‘You’re across it already. Alvin, link up with Paula on this. It won’t hurt to show a bit of muscle on the doorstep.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Sophie, does he work late?’
She shrugged. ‘Depends what’s going on. But he makes a big thing about working smart, not working long. When he’s in the office, he’s usually gone by six.’ She scoffed. ‘I always suspected he just carried on working at home. He didn’t seem to have much of a social life. He definitely isn’t a party animal.’
‘Helpful. Do us a background brief when you’ve done your fishing.’ He fixed his stare on Paula. ‘You still here?’
*
Mark Conway lived less than a mile from his company headquarters on the outskirts of Bradfield. Although it was less than a mile from one of the main roads into the city, it was surprisingly secluded. There were a handful of sprawling modern houses on the road, all with triple garages and electronic gates, which Paula suspected belonged to footballers. Conway’s home, by contrast, had probably started life as a substantial farmhouse. From the side, the roofline resembled an upside-down letter W; it made the place look like two houses glued together. It was a design Paula had seen all over the north of England. Conway’s version was built of dressed local stone. The roof slates had the gleam of good repair and the paintwork round the windows and the porch looked smart and fresh. A horseshoe of mature trees protected it to the rear and a low drystone wall separated it from the road, with a traditional wooden five-bar gate closing off the pea gravel drive. The soft glow of indirect lighting shone warmly from two of the ground-floor windows.
Looking at the satnav map, Paula realised it was only about three miles from Bradesden via a network of country lanes. You could probably get there without troubling any ANPR cameras. Always convenient for nefarious doings.
The gate wasn’t locked, so they drove up to the front door. Alvin tugged an impressive iron bell pull and an incongruous series of electronic chimes rang out from inside. It was always the details that betrayed people, she thought. Mark Conway had learned how things were supposed to look, but that doorbell was all wrong.
Mark Conway opened the door just wide enough to stand in the gap. Baggy white linen shirt over khaki cargo shorts, bare feet. He looked relaxed but curious, eyebrows raised in a question.
Paula and Alvin both flashed their IDs and the curiosity was replaced by resignation. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you people.’
‘We’d appreciate your help in a major inquiry we’re dealing with right now,’ Paula said, amiable but firm. ‘Can we come in? It’s a bit chilly out here.’
‘I don’t care if it’s freezing. Unless you’ve got a warrant, you’re not crossing my threshold. And I’ve already told you, I’ve got nothing to say. So you may as well go back into the warmth of your car and leave.’ He was equally amiable, and equally firm.
Paula shrugged. ‘You’re quite within your rights, of course. But I should warn you, we tend to draw inferences from refusals like yours. Because people with nothing to hide have no reason to fear talking to the police. So when someone tries to stonewall us, we are inclined to look at them a bit more closely.’ She pulled a rueful face. ‘Because we think they just might have something they’re keeping hidden. Something that might have unpleasant consequences if it were to come out. Up to you, of course.’
Now his charm slipped from his face as if it had been wiped off with a damp rag. ‘That sounds very like a threat to me. Are you threatening me, officer?’
‘No, sir. Just making an observation.’
‘I don’t
