“Now, what are we going to do about these two, so called, journalists?” Dillon demanded.
Tyler smiled spitefully. “I think it’s time we taught them both a lesson,” he suggested, unzipping his white paper suit.
Kelly had moved the two ‘newsies’ out of the inner cordon. The three women were standing beside an old shape red Volkswagen Golf, which was parked a few doors down from the murder scene. Steve Bull was with them. “Morning,” he said, nodding solemnly.
Tyler nodded back, curtly. “Stevie.”
Dillon patted the smaller man’s shoulder. “Nice to see that you’re in a better mood today,” he whispered.
“Did you find it?” Terri asked uneasily. She was careful to avert her gaze from Tyler’s piercing stare.
“Yes, Miss Miller, we found ‘it’.”
“Please, call me Terri. This is Julie. I’m sorr –”
“Miss Miller,” Jack cut in harshly, “which one of you threw up in there?” He scrutinised each one in turn, impatiently awaiting a reply.
“I – I’m afraid it was me,” Julie began. “It’s very embarrassing but I….”
“Have either of you moved the body at all?” Tyler continued.
“Not exactly,” Terri said, evasively.
“What do you mean: ‘not exactly’?” Dillon demanded.
“It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I couldn’t see in the dark and I…well, I kind of kicked the head when I tripped and…” Julie Payne bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Bloody hell,” Dillon muttered under his breath. The two women were like a female version of Abbott and Costello; they couldn’t do anything right.
Terri put a protective arm around Julie as the photographer began to cry again.
Jack rolled his eyes and looked up to the heavens, wondering if, in some unknown way, he had offended God and was now being punished for it. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin, feeling the tiny bristles tickle the palm of his hand. “I need to know which one of you rolled around in the victim’s blood.” When neither one answered immediately, he continued: “Let me guess. That would also be you, Miss…?” he raised an accusing eyebrow at Julie.
“P – Payne. Julie Payne.” Her voice, as she bowed her head in shame, was barely audible.
“Hah!” Dillon barked mirthlessly. “Payne by name: pain in the arse by nature!”
Tyler shot him a warning look.
“Really!” Terri protested. “I don’t think that’s very nice, Inspector.” If no one else was going to stand up for Julie then she would. After all, it was because of her that Julie was there.
“Your trouble is that you just don’t think,” Dillon told her. Terri opened her mouth to argue but closed it again, realising that she was in a no-win situation. Instead, she crossed her arms in furious defiance.
“Miss Payne, can you remove your coat so that I can examine your clothing, please,” Tyler asked. He spoke gently to avoid distressing her further. He was beginning to realise that Julie had been coerced into taking part in this foolish episode, probably against her better judgement. With Kelly’s help, Julie struggled out of the three-quarter-length leather coat she had donned shortly after fleeing the house. Terri had insisted that she put it on to keep warm, knowing it would help battle the shock that was setting in.
The detectives immediately saw that her jeans and sweatshirt were saturated with blood. Dillon gave a derisive sigh and shook his head in exasperation. These two had pretty much destroyed his crime scene.
“We’re going to have to ask you both to come back to the station. We’ll need to take your clothing and then fingerprint and swab you. We’ll also want detailed statements,” Tyler stated as calmly as he could under the circumstances.
“What!” Terri exclaimed. “Can’t we do that later? I’ve got a deadline to meet. Surely it can wait a little while?” She had an exclusive to file, and this was so…inconvenient.
“Miss Miller, you can either come back as a witness, under your own steam, or as a prisoner on charges of obstruction and perverting the course of justice. It’s entirely your choice.” Tyler’s tone made it clear this wasn’t a subject that was up for discussion.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Terri said defiantly.
Tyler’s eyes hooded. “Try me.”
“I’m coming,” Julie said, emphasising her surrender by raising both bloodstained hands in a melodramatic fashion. Terri gave her a traitorous look, at the same time calculating whether Tyler really would detain her if she refused to go of her own accord.
“Miss Miller?” Jack enquired, testily.
Terri realised it was time to put up or shut up. “Aw, shit!” For a woman whose private education had cost her parents a considerable sum of money, she capitulated most ungraciously.
CHAPTER 22
The two women were conveyed to Whitechapel police station in separate vehicles. Their escorts were under strict instructions not to speak to them, and the journey was completed in an uncomfortable silence, which did little to improve Terri Miller’s mood.
When they arrived, they were photographed in their clothing, which was then seized, and they were fingerprinted and swabbed for DNA. Then they were placed in separate interview rooms and left to stew for another three-quarters of an hour. They were not offered refreshments. Nor were they given an indication as to how long they would be required. Whenever they asked what was going on, which in Miller’s case was about every five minutes, they were given the same answer: “I’m sorry miss, but DCI Tyler is very busy right now. Someone will be along to see you in due course.”
By the time Dillon and Evans arrived to take her statement, Terri was feeling utterly deflated. This, of course, was precisely what the detectives had intended. She told them about the mysterious man in her building, the meat-filled box he’d left outside her apartment, her shock at discovering the snapshots and how she had thought the whole thing was probably a hoax.
Terri played down her scheme to check out the house before involving the police. She claimed she was motivated by a desire to prevent the emergency services from
