He knew he would have to pitch his idea to the chief constable. If he could get FB’s backing, it would be a goer.
He sat back smugly, placed his pen down and rubbed his hands together, wondering what he could call the operation.
His phone rang to interrupt his thoughts.
‘Mr Christie, it’s Janine Cromer. You rang, left a message.’
‘Thanks for calling back.’ Henry sat upright, focused.
Immediately she said, ‘I hope you’re not going to ask me any awkward questions about my family, because I won’t drop them in it.’
‘Assuming you know what happened last night in Blackpool, it would be remiss of me not to ask about your father’s whereabouts, for obvious reasons. So where is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said shortly, ‘and even if I did. .’
‘Point taken. . that said, I do need to speak to Freddy. That’s a given. He alleges he was kidnapped last night and he ended up assaulting a nurse — and me.’ Henry rubbed his neck. ‘How is he today?’
‘He’s fine. He slept quite well and at the moment, he’s content.’
Henry screwed his nose up at that description. Content? ‘I want to see him. I could have kept him in custody very easily last night, but I didn’t.’
‘I know, I know, and I’m grateful you didn’t. When and where?’
‘Blackburn nick, one hour.’ Henry had already decided to see Freddy on home turf. ‘I want to interview him, get a statement from him and process him properly. I won’t re-arrest him unless I have to. He won’t be seeing the inside of a cell unless he has to. Do you get my meaning? He behaves — and that is me being very generous.’
‘So we have to play along with you, otherwise you’ll become a bully?’
‘Yep.’
She sighed.
Henry said, ‘You can have a solicitor or social worker, or both, present if you wish. And I’ll let you stay in the interview, too.’
‘How very generous,’ she said caustically.
‘Yep. One hour, Blackburn police station. If not, I’ll come and lock him up.’
Interview rooms in police stations are sparse. A table bolted to the floor, jutting out at ninety degrees from a wall. A cassette tape recorder, affixed to the table because in the early days of tape recording interviews, a lot of less acquiescent prisoners tried to brain officers with the machines if the interviews weren’t going their way. Up behind a mesh grille in one corner of the room was a video camera to record particularly important or sensitive interviews, or to allow other officers to watch and listen to interviews through an A/V feed. Henry didn’t plan on starring on the small screen that day. Audio tape would suffice.
The Cromers were on time and Henry started the interview quite quickly in the presence of a duty solicitor he knew well, a guy called Richmond who made a great living defending crims. But he was an upright operator, simply playing his part in the criminal justice system.
And Freddy was lucid, friendly, open and quite charming.
Except he claimed he could not recall what happened the night before. The last thing he remembered was going to the club in Knuzden, having a drink there, and walking out of the place. Then nothing. Until he was thrown into a cell. Everything in between was a blank and Henry could not budge him. Freddy had his head bowed and simply shook it as Henry probed until finally sitting back with a despairing glance at Janine, sitting in the corner of the room. He drew the interview to a close and said he now needed to take Freddy’s fingerprints, DNA and descriptives.
‘I thought you said he wasn’t under arrest,’ Janine complained.
‘He isn’t, but whether he recalls it or not, he committed some serious offences last night and I need to process him.’ Henry looked at Richmond for support.
Richmond got the message and looked at Janine. ‘It’s just procedure.’
‘I’m not happy with it.’
‘Be that as it may,’ Henry said.
Richmond said to Henry, ‘Are you going to charge my client?’
‘I’m going to report the circumstances, let CPS make the decision.’
‘OK, that’s fine.’
‘Freddy — you need to come with me. . have you had your DNA taken before?’
He shook his head. ‘Will it hurt?’
‘No. . it’s just a swab to get some spit from your mouth.’ Henry collected his paperwork and stood up, as did Freddy. Henry moved to the door of the interview room and Janine stood in front of him, a concerned look on her face.
‘Henry, is this really necessary? The DNA and all that? And reporting him? Can’t we just let it go? Look — I’ll make sure that nurse gets compensated. . a grand, eh? And you — how about a donation to the police widows and orphans fund?’
He shook his head. ‘He has to go through the works, Janine. That’s how it is. But if you offered up some compensation anyway, that would be a good thing.’
‘You’re pretty heartless.’
‘No I’m not. . and nor do I believe he can’t remember anything.’
Freddy submitted to the processing and Henry quite enjoyed it. Taking fingerprints, a DNA sample, descriptives and a photo were usually things that more junior officers did. It had been a long time since Henry had rolled someone’s fingertips in fingerprint ink and admired the result. There was certainly a skill to it and he was glad to see he hadn’t lost it — but the size of Freddy’s dabs, large enough to fill each square on the form from edge to edge, top to bottom, made Henry realize just what big fingers the man had. Great for strangulation.
Whilst he did it, Henry made small talk.
‘Do you remember junior school at Belthorn, Freddy?’
‘Uh?’
‘Did you enjoy it? Do you remember any of the kids you went with?’
‘Sorta. . some,’ he said.
‘How about David Peters? He was your age, wasn’t he?’
‘Dunno.’
‘How about Christine Blackshaw? She was your age, too. Or Ella Milner?’
‘I don’t know. . I don’t know. .’
Henry detected a hint of panic in Freddy’s response.
‘Plonk yourself there,’ Henry said and pointed to a chair. They were in the fingerprint room in the custody suite. Freddy sat. Henry rifled through a drawer and found a DNA kit, basically a cotton wool bud in a sealed tube. He completed the name stickers before putting on a pair of latex gloves, twisting the cap off the tube and holding up the cotton bud. ‘Just open your mouth and I’ll take a swab from inside your cheeks and that’s it.’
Freddy complied. Henry leaned towards him and started to take the sample.
‘Do you know that David Peters and Christine Blackshaw and Ella Milner have all been murdered? There, done.’ He stood back, slid the swab into the tube, sealed it, then placed it in the clear envelope which he also sealed. ‘So — do you know that? About those murders?’
Freddy shook his head. ‘Why are you asking me questions? You’re not allowed to.’
‘Just having a chat, Freddy, that’s all.’
‘Liar.’ Freddy’s mouth clamped shut.
He led Freddy out to the foyer at the front counter where Janine was waiting, a severe expression on her face. The solicitor was nowhere to be seen.
‘He asked me questions,’ Freddy blurted to Janine.
‘You’re just like all the rest,’ Janine snarled. ‘I’ll be making a complaint.’
‘Freddy is a witness to what happened last night, and maybe a victim, but so far he’s conveniently forgotten everything. Now, call me a cynic, but I think that’s bollocks, whether he’s got some acute psychological condition or not. I think you told him to say nothing. That’s what I think.’
‘Yes, you are a cynic, Henry. Something as traumatic as last night could easily have put up the barriers in his weak brain, so he blocked out the unpleasant, terrifying memory of it all.’
Henry shrugged. ‘Perhaps. I definitely need to get him assessed by a shrink.’