‘The sly bastard,’ Hammond muttered.
‘The question we have now,’ Zigic said, ‘which we’re hoping you might be able to assist us with, is why Sutherland chose Ainsworth as the target of the allegation.’
Hammond scratched his eyebrow, bemused-looking. ‘That is rather an odd one. Are you certain he made that choice? Mightn’t she have decided for herself?’
‘Nadia maintains that it was very much Sutherland’s call.’
‘And you believe her?’ Hammond asked. ‘Even knowing that she’s a liar.’
‘Within the context of the rest of her statement, yes, we do believe her.’ Zigic shifted his weight and felt something that might have been horsehair poke into his backside, shifted again. ‘Sutherland and Ainsworth were supposed to be quite friendly. They’d worked together to report abusers in the past. We’re struggling to understand what might have caused Sutherland to turn on Ainsworth.’
Hammond looked pensively into his glass. ‘You do appreciate the position I’m in here, Inspector. I’ve worked damned hard to clean up Long Fleet. I’ve spent two years doing everything I can to improve the lot of our ladies; I’ve tried to make their time with us as comfortable and as safe as possible.’
Zigic was sure he could hear Ferreira’s teeth grinding.
‘And in all of that time,’ Hammond said, ‘there’s not been a single credible report of abuse by any staff member.’ He pointed at them. ‘Not. One.’
‘You’ve done an admirable job,’ Zigic told him. ‘And we understand how badly this could reflect on you when it comes out. Which is why I think it’s in everyone’s best interest to build a solid case against Patrick Sutherland.’
‘If he’s responsible,’ Hammond added hopefully.
‘If, yes,’ Zigic conceded. ‘The stronger the case we put in front of him and his solicitor the higher the probability of a confession and the less likely you are to find yourself at the centre of a media circus.’
‘So we need to know what went on between Sutherland and Ainsworth,’ Ferreira interrupted, the frustration sharpening her tone. ‘Where did the break occur?’
Hammond threw back the last mouthful of his drink and rose from the paint-spattered wooden stool. He made his way over to a chaotic workbench, filled with sketch pads and pencils, old Coke cans and water bottles.
Zigic glanced at Ferreira and she shrugged one shoulder, seemingly as uncertain about where this was going as he was.
Under the workbench Hammond rummaged around in a plastic box and came up with a half bottle of vodka.
‘There was an incident,’ he said, his back still turned to them as he poured another drink. ‘Earlier this year. A woman was admitted – I forget the details – but about six weeks after she came in, Josh found out she was pregnant.’
‘How pregnant?’ Ferreira asked.
‘Four to six weeks, Josh said.’ Hammond replaced the cap on the bottle and took his time returning it to the box under the bench. ‘It was so close that there was no way to say for certain if she’d fallen pregnant before she came to us or not.’
‘But Josh thought it happened in Long Fleet?’ Zigic asked.
Hammond turned around, nodding. ‘He asked the woman about it but she wouldn’t tell him anything. Not who the father was, not when it happened.’
‘She must have said something.’
‘She wouldn’t.’
‘Did you speak to her?’ Ferreira asked.
‘That isn’t part of my job,’ Hammond replied. ‘But I did in this instance. Mainly, because we’d been doing so well that I was – and I’m not ashamed to admit this – I was bloody angry that something like that might have happened again on my watch.’ He sighed. ‘But she wouldn’t talk to me. She sat there shaking, she could hardly even look at me.’
‘She was scared of you,’ Ferreira said.
Zigic nudged her gently. There was no point rubbing it in.
‘Who did Josh think the father was?’ he asked.
‘At first he didn’t want to speculate.’ Hammond came back to his stool, lowered himself down slowly as if he considered it untrustworthy. ‘I’m not sure he had anyone in mind at that point. But he kept pressing the young woman to talk, he was monitoring her more closely – he didn’t need to, the pregnancy was progressing perfectly well – but he used that as an excuse to speak to her.’ Hammond took a mouthful of vodka and winced slightly at the rawness. ‘Eventually he came to me again and told me he thought there was something amiss with Sutherland.’
‘Why did he think that?’
Hammond grimaced. ‘He couldn’t give me a straight answer. That was the problem. If he could have shown me evidence. Or if she would have just spoken up, I could have done something. Honestly, I didn’t even believe him at the time. I thought he’d got so accustomed to looking for abuse that he’d started to see it where it didn’t exist.’
‘Why didn’t you mention this to us sooner?’ Ferreira demanded. ‘You must have realised it might have been significant.’
‘Until you came for Sutherland this afternoon, I’d forgotten all about it,’ he said, sounding wounded. ‘Josh had concerns that didn’t stand up to scrutiny and I put it out of my mind and got on with my job.’
It sounded unlikely but Zigic suspected it was the truth. When you dealt with so many people on a daily basis, your mind had a way of wiping them out, freeing space up for the next group and all of their problems and demands. He could only guess at the stress Hammond was under, the money involved, the scrutiny from his bosses.
‘Did Sutherland know Josh suspected him of abusing the woman?’ he asked.
Hammond looked queasy suddenly. ‘I spoke to him about it, yes.’
‘You directly accused him?’
‘Indirectly,’ Hammond said. ‘But he must have been aware that the idea came from Josh.’
‘How was their working relationship after that?’
‘As far as I know they carried on much the same as before. But there was rarely any reason for me to visit
