‘Is that it?’ Larry said after Caxton had finished.
‘The evidence is circumstantial,’ Sharman said. ‘I am insisting that my client is released immediately.’
‘It’s not so easy, Mr Sharman,’ Emily said. She remembered Isaac’s advice: ‘Start gently, slowly raise the tempo, keep your final arguments for last. Fluster, confuse, get them to make mistakes, not you.’ She knew that at the first interview she had not followed the advice given and that Sharman had bettered her. She was not willing to let it happen a second time.
‘Why?’
‘Mr Caxton and Hector O’Grady were in Belgium when Steve Samuels was murdered along with a taxi driver and two prostitutes. We have impounded the Toyota Land Cruiser they took to Belgium; CCTV footage and facial recognition technology have confirmed it to be them. They were travelling on false documents. We also have two witnesses who saw them there. If Mr Caxton is released from this station, an extradition order is in place for him to be rearrested, pending extradition to Brussels. Whatever happens here today, your client is in for a lengthy prison term. Bail will be refused here and in Belgium. Mr Caxton’s track record is not good; no judge will allow him freedom while he waits to be tried.’
‘I’ve done nothing wrong,’ Caxton said. He looked over at Sharman who took no notice.
‘A bullet has been recovered from the boat,’ Emily said.
‘Is that proof?’ Sharman said.
‘The bullet is with Forensics.’
‘And what do you intend to do with it? It’s a bullet, not a gun. There are no fingerprints on a bullet.’
‘But there is on the boat, and we do have Mr Caxton’s jacket.’
‘I lent it to him. It was a cold day, and his jacket wasn’t as warm as mine,’ Caxton said.
‘Even if it was, and you’re telling the truth, it still doesn’t explain the fingerprint.’
‘I’d been out on the boat before. Maybe it’s old.’
‘We’ve checked with the owner of the boat. You had never been on that boat. There are three boats for hire. One was out of the water for maintenance. The other one was already rented out. We have full records and the testimony of the owner. You had been on that boat once, and that was when Hector O’Grady was shot and thrown over the side. Mr Caxton, you are guilty of murder. Now is the time to own up,’ Emily said.
‘It was an accident, I swear it. Hector was in a funny mood, someone had taken his girlfriend. We went out with a few beers, a can of worms and a couple of fishing lines. He was my friend. I wanted to help him.’
Sharman looked at his client, shook his head. The first rule of defence, never admit to anything, no matter how inconsequential.
‘Why kill him?’
‘It was an accident. He’s out there, he’s argumentative, and the beer is getting to him. He was never a big drinker, and now he’s into his fifth. I tried to stop him, attempted to take the gun off him. He’s going wild, shooting into the water just because the fish aren’t biting. I grab the gun, it goes off.’
‘He’s dead?’
‘Dead, yes, he was. I’m panicking. You would never believe it was an accident. What was I to do? I couldn’t come in here, throw myself on your mercy.’
‘O’Grady’s body?’
‘He fell off the side when the gun went off. I tried to grab hold, but I’m not good with boats. Hector knew all about them, I didn’t. I always wore a life jacket out there. Hector said they were only for young girls and weaklings. He could sometimes be insulting, not that I took much notice most times, but out there he was dangerous. I’m telling you the truth.’
‘And the axe through the bottom of the boat, the bullets as well?’
‘I was panicking. I’ve told you this. What more do you want me to say?’
‘How did you get to shore? You’ve told us you wore a life jacket, but we found both of them on board the boat.’
‘I swam.’
‘You scuttled the boat first. And why didn’t you get on at the boatshed, the same place as O’Grady? Was this part of the plan?’
‘My client needs time to consider,’ Sharman said. Emily continued with her questioning.
‘Mr Caxton, you’ve lied about being in Brussels, you’ve lied about Ralph Lawrence, about Keith Waters. Why should we believe you now?’
‘Because it’s the truth. I didn’t mean to kill him.’
‘Mr Caxton, you will be held pending a trial. You will also be charged with the murder of Steve Samuels in Brussels. Also, the charges of grievous bodily harm will stand. Whatever happens, you, Mr Caxton, will be spending many years in prison.’
***
‘Five years for grievous bodily harm,’ Isaac said. ‘That’s the maximum for what Caxton did to Lawrence and Waters, concurrent sentences. The judge may decide on consecutive, but it’s unlikely.’
The team, including Jules Hougardy, were sitting in the Prince of Greenwich pub. Everyone had a pint of beer, including the Belgian police inspector. Caxton was locked up, Frost was still sweating it out in his penthouse, and a search of the River Thames downstream from where O’Grady had disappeared, presumed dead, had found nothing. The sunken boat had provided no more clues, and the case against Caxton for the murder of O’Grady was based on the man’s confession, although he was holding to his story that it
