‘We’ll be talking to Marcus Roots later today. Will he corroborate your story?’
‘Corroborate?’
‘Agree with your story.’
‘He’ll try to blame me, but I’m innocent.’
‘Not with your fingerprints on the knife’s handle, you’re not.’
The lawyer sat back, knowing full well that he had no defence to offer.
‘We will check your statement with his.’
‘Don’t, please. He’ll kill me.’
‘What was the celebration at the flat for – payment for a job well done, is that it?’
‘It was someone’s birthday.’
‘Whose?’
‘One of the women.’
‘If you continue to lie, it will not go well for you. The women were rentals, that’s all. Did Negril Bob put on the party by way of thanks?’
‘Thanks for what? It was just a party.’
Isaac could see that the man was going to keep to his story. He knew it was pointless to contradict him anymore, and besides, Homicide had the evidence.
The interview concluded, and Isaac took the opportunity to phone Larry. His wife answered. ‘He’s much better. He wants to talk to you.’
‘Larry here, what’s the latest?’
‘We’ve proof against one of Negril Bob’s gang. His fingerprints were on the knife that killed Dave Dallimore.’
‘Who?’
‘The homeless man up from where you were found.’
‘Dave. He was there when they killed Rasta Joe,’ Larry said.
‘Morris Beckford told us. He’s back in the cells; we’re about to interview Negril Bob.’
‘I wish I was there.’
‘Not this time. What’s the doctor saying?’
‘My wife’s scowling at me, but she understands. I’ll be in the office in two days, light duties only.’
‘Hopefully, we’ll have sewn up Rasta Joe’s death by then.’
‘Samuel Devon?’
‘Beckford’s not admitting to his murder. Mind you, the man’s not too bright. He could change his story at any time. His defence will use the man’s low intellect as a defence.’
Wendy took the opportunity to go across the road and bring back some sandwiches. After she and Isaac had eaten, they reentered the interview room. Negril Bob was waiting. He was using the same lawyer as Beckford.
‘Robert Gosling, also known as Negril Bob. Is that correct?’ Isaac asked.
‘That’s correct,’ Negril Bob said. He had a scowl on his face. ‘I’ve not done anything wrong. If Beckford and Roots have done something stupid, then it’s not my problem.’
‘We cannot prove that you were present when Dallimore was killed or when DI Hill was severely beaten.’
‘Then why am I here?’
‘Morris Beckford and Marcus Roots are colleagues of yours, is that true?’
‘You know it is. We’re friends if you like. Beckford’s not too bright, but Roots is okay.’
‘You’re obviously smarter.’
‘Galbraith, you’re the lawyer, get me out of here.’
‘I suggest you stay for the time being,’ Galbraith said.
‘Mr Gosling.’
‘Everyone calls me Negril Bob.’
‘Morris Beckford spoke to you by phone. Beckford tried to pass the knifing of the man onto Marcus Roots, but we know that not to be true. Beckford acted on instructions, your instructions. Is that correct?’
‘Not me. If Beckford killed him, then he’s to blame. Don’t try to smart-arse me into a confession. I’m guilty of no more than being a hard case.’
‘And if Marcus Roots corroborates Beckford’s story?’
‘You’re putting words into my client’s mouth,’ the lawyer said. ‘May I remind you that in English justice, a person is innocent until proven otherwise.’
‘I’m aware of the law,’ Isaac said. Wendy sat to one side, not sure what to say.
Isaac knew that the connection between the death of Dave Dallimore and Negril Bob was tenuous. He had not been at the murder scene; he had never met the murdered man, and the phone number that Beckford had phoned for advice was no longer operating.
‘We will have a corroborating statement from Marcus Roots.’
‘Two men, guilty of murder, wanting to strike a deal with the police for a lighter sentence. Galbraith will destroy their evidence against me.’
‘DCI Cook,’ Galbraith said, ‘your evidence against my client is circumstantial.’
Isaac knew that it was. So far, all of it was hearsay, and there was no connection between Negril Bob and Samuel Devon, only the word of Rasta Joe that there was. The only charges against him were minor, and if he were charged, then he’d be granted bail. Isaac chose to leave the man free, knowing that his luck would eventually run out, and his support base was weakening.
Negril Bob walked out of the police station later in the evening. He looked back at Isaac as he left, and smiled. Isaac knew that to him it was personal. He phoned up Ann, Phillip Loeb’s PA. It would have to be another weekend before they met.
Chapter 25
Five days after Negril Bob walked out of Challis Street Police Station, three things happened: Gwen Waverley gave birth to a son, Larry Hill reported for duty, and George Happold died.
Another child for the Waverleys further cemented Quentin’s position within the Happold bank, and he knew it. It came with some regrets, namely that Amelia was not there, even though she had become difficult, threatening to disrupt his plans. He had spoken to her about it on several occasions, tried to convince her to wait and to lay off the men and the drugs. The last two times that he had seen her, it had been a case of ‘you do what I say or else’, although he had never known what the ‘else’ was.
Each and every time that he had seen her, he had wanted to sleep with her, but he had resisted, even if she had been willing. He was not the paragon of virtue that he pretended to be with Gwen’s father, a man who would send you to the poor house without compunction, yet set high standards for his family, even for him, the son-in-law. Quentin Waverley knew
