Hansell sighed. "No, I didn't. And, like I'm pretty sure I told you before, I was in Copenhagen at the weekend."
Tom nodded, making an 'ahh' sound whilst flicking through his notes. "Copenhagen, yes, I remember. Remind me, you live there?"
"That's my base, yes. My husband's office is there and I travel a lot with my work so it makes sense to have our base there."
"That's right, you said before."
Tom rolled his lips, staring straight ahead. Hansell displayed visible discomfort in the following period of silence.
"Is there anything else, Inspector? Honestly, I am happy to help, but I feel we're wasting each other's time."
"There is one more thing, Mr Hansell."
Hansell sank back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest. ""What is it?"
"If you were in Copenhagen until your return… which was?" Tom asked, holding an open palm up to encourage an answer.
"Late Monday."
"Late Monday," Tom repeated. "How did you have a meeting with Daniel Crowe at his house on the weekend?"
Hansell's mouth opened, but no words came out. He stared at Tom, then glanced at Cassie, who was also watching him intensely.
"You see, we spoke to Mr Crowe on an unrelated matter during our investigation and his wife, Elizabeth, described the two of you as being rather animated with regard to the forthcoming planning decision. We didn't realise at the time but the two of you have a great deal riding on this approval."
"I… I…" he said, stammering in search of an answer. "It's a mistake," he whispered.
"Another description would be that it's a lie, Mr Hansell. Because you couldn't be in two places at the same time, could you, Mr Hansell?"
Liam Hansell bit his bottom lip, sitting forward and resting his elbows on the table and bringing his palms to his face, covering mouth and nose.
"And on the day we first met, you seemed rather agitated when DC Collet and I sat down with you. A state that changed when we began to talk about Mary Beckett." Tom said. "You thought we were there about Adrian Gage. The relief must have been incredible for you when we asked about Mary Beckett instead. Do you recall?"
Hansell looked at him and nodded almost imperceptibly.
"I put it to you, Mr Hansell," Tom said, "that you were not in Denmark on Monday afternoon but, rather, you were at Adrian Gage's house in Cley. An altercation ensued, resulting in Mr Gage being mortally wounded, and you were responsible for that." Hansell looked down at the table in front of him. Tom could see him beginning to shake in an involuntary manner. "How am I doing so far?"
Hansell shook his head again, still staring at the table. "It wasn't like that… that's not what happened."
"You should be aware that we have sourced a search warrant for your home address here in Norfolk as well as for your offices, and the border force will be able to confirm exactly when you left the country and, more importantly, when you returned. That means we will be looking at your appointment schedule, telephone records, each and every payment made from your personal and business bank accounts," Tom said flatly, "and our Danish counterparts have agreed to do the same at their end. Now, I'm betting we will find a trail of payments to Billy Tilson's widow and when we do—"
"Enough!" Hansell barked, slamming the flats of his hands to the table. Cassie and Tom exchanged a look. "Enough," he repeated, only quieter and more measured. He lifted his eyes to meet Tom's. They gleamed with moisture. He looked crestfallen. "Please… just stop."
"Tell us what did happen."
Chapter Thirty
Hansell lifted himself upright, the palms of his hands coming together with his fingertips beneath his chin as he looked to the ceiling.
"I went to his place—"
"Adrian Gage's house?" Tom said, clarifying it for the recording.
"Yes, to his house. He was intending to run a story," Hansell said, lowering his gaze to Tom. "It was a multi-angle investigation and he'd come to me for comment." He sighed. "Offering me a right of reply, isn't that what they call it?" Tom nodded. Hansell sighed. "Initially, I wasn't concerned. After all, he was only going over the same ground as countless other journalists had already done before. But then…"
"Gage found Billy Tilson's family, didn't he?"
Hansell silently agreed with a flick of the head, closing his eyes. "Yes. He knew. Don't ask me how," he said, shaking his head and smiling in despair. "But he knew. He was going to run the story this week, ahead of the inspectorate's decision. He figured it would garner the maximum amount of coverage." He sat forward, fixing Tom with a stare. "I went to his place to ask him not to. I begged him not to run it this week. Even if he only shelved it for another week or so until the contracts were signed. That way, I could ride out the storm… maybe."
"But he wouldn't agree."
"No," Hansell said, dejected. "He wanted the exposure, hoping one of the nationals would come in for the story. He said he had a lot riding on it and my position… our contracts might be, what did he call it..." Hansell's brow furrowed, "... collateral damage. He was so blasé, so matter of fact. You know, I think he took some perverse kind of pleasure in it. I'd spoken to him before on several occasions and he always struck me as a professional, not like one of these gutter-press tabloid journalists digging up dirt, true or not. But this time… he was different. Probably something to do with the woman."
Tom's eyes narrowed and in the corner of his eye he saw Cassie turn to look at him. He could feel her eyes upon him.
"Woman?" Tom asked.
Hansell screwed up his face. "Yeah. When I got to his place I sat outside for a while. I'm not sure if I was building up the courage to go in or struggling with what I was going to say. Then
