‘Detective Chief Inspector Adams,’ Riggott shouted.
Zigic felt the air go out of his lungs, heard Ferreira swear under her breath as Adams turned away from the conversation he was having with DI Kitson. Whatever defiance he’d pulled together across the last few days evaporated when he saw Riggott’s expression.
‘My office, right fucking now,’ Riggott snapped. He pointed at Zigic and Ferreira. ‘You two as well.’
Murray was already in there, sitting on the small leather sofa pushed against the far wall. She’d told him everything, Zigic realised. He tried to catch Adams’s eye but he wasn’t looking at anyone but Riggott, his face showing a studied blankness that Zigic doubted he’d be able to maintain for very long. They’d both been preparing for this for days but now it was actually happening, Adams looked lost, overwhelmed in the face of his mentor’s rage.
The room was full of the acrid reek of too-strong coffee, clashing with the sickly-sweet vapour residue from Rigott’s e-cigarette. The air was close and stifling.
Adams went to sit down.
‘Who told you to sit?’ Riggott said. ‘On your feet.’
He snatched the chair away and hurled it across the office into the window, which cracked but held. The chair hung there for a second or two before it clattered to the ground, ripping the blind off its fixings with an almighty crash.
‘This was all me,’ Adams said quickly. ‘They shouldn’t be here.’
‘Aye, very fucking noble,’ Riggott spat. He looked at Zigic. ‘I’d have thought you’d have had a sight more sense than to listen to this wee cunt.’
Zigic said nothing. He should have had more sense but nothing Riggott could say would change the fact that he and Adams were probably correct.
‘We were right to look again at Tessa Darby’s murder,’ Adams said, sounding like he was pulling the words up from somewhere deep and bruised. ‘The original investigation had no idea what Lee Walton is capable of, it’s understandable he wasn’t pursued.’
Riggott gave him an incredulous smile. ‘Sure, that’s very big of you, son.’
‘I’m just trying to say –’
‘That you know better than me?’ he demanded, storming over to Adams and stabbing a finger into his chest. ‘That your superior fucking coppering skills are more reliable than a confession?’
Adams’s cheeks flushed. ‘Not all confessions are reliable.’
‘You want to say that again?’ Riggott asked, swaying slightly as if shaping up to deliver a blow.
‘Neal Cooper obviously isn’t the full ticket.’ Adams said, stepping backwards, away from the blast of Riggott’s stare. When he spoke again his voice was weakened and apologetic. ‘Cooper probably believed he did it. At the time.’
‘Fucking priceless.’ Riggott slammed his palm hard against the wall next to Adams’s head. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a pair of balls down there, Billy. Get them out if you’re going to. Let’s see if they’re as big as you’re claiming.’
‘I don’t think his confession was valid.’
‘You’re still dancing around it.’ Riggott shook his head, playing up the bravado but Zigic could see how badly this had stung him and that he wanted Adams to feel it too, the pain of betrayal, was going to force him to lay it out fully and suffer through every second. ‘Say it!’
Adams cleared his throat.
‘We think Cooper felt intimidated into a confession,’ Zigic said.
Riggott dragged his eyes off Adams. ‘By who?’
‘By the process.’
‘You saying Colleen scared him?’ He waved in her direction and she curved slightly tighter in on herself.
‘We’re saying he thought he’d be found guilty and he confessed to try and get a reduced sentence,’ Adams said. ‘It happens. We all know that. People make that choice all the time. Especially people like Cooper who aren’t very smart and do whatever their solicitor advises.’
It was a small lie and Zigic hoped it was enough. This was a horrible situation and no copper ever wanted to find themselves in it. Actively trying to overturn a superior’s conviction.
Riggott stalked around the desk, kicked his own chair aside, muttering about Moira Baxter under his breath.
‘Walton’s rattled,’ Adams said, attempting to move things on. ‘The victim’s mother was best friends with his mother, okay? Word’s got back to him that we’re looking into the case again and he’s losing his shit.’
Riggott just stared at him, like he was trying to taking him apart cell by cell. The depth of contempt on his face was painful to see, and Zigic could only imagine how Adams felt, standing in the office where he’d been shaped as a copper.
‘Tessa Darby is a perfect fit for Walton’s victim profile,’ Adams said.
Riggott nodded. ‘That’s mighty compelling. I’m sure the CPS will be able to build a solid case on it. Twenty years later. With a conviction already made and a sentence served. And what about this DNA sample you stole?’ he asked. ‘Or bribed some stupid bastard to give you.’
‘I stole it,’ Adams said, too fast.
Riggott gave him a pitying look. ‘Son, I know how to get hold of a twenty-year-old DNA sample and it’s a fucking bribe. You’re a bit late protecting the stupid cunt who gave you it. Casualty number one, there.’ He jabbed his finger at Adams. ‘On you, that.’
‘We’ll have the result in the next twenty-four hours,’ Zigic said. ‘Maybe we should see how it comes back before –’
‘Before what? How much more fucking damage are you intending on doing?’
His attention was all on Zigic now and the heat of it was severe enough to send a trickle of sweat down his back.
‘If it comes back as a match for Walton, I think we need to reopen the case.’ He heard the trepidation shaking his voice.
‘Walton’s too dangerous to be out on the streets,’ Adams said. ‘Are we really going to ignore a chance to put him away for life just because it’s embarrassing admitting we made a mistake accepting Cooper’s confession?’ He took a step
