Camorra did not recall very much about Joseph Sickert: just that, at one time, Sickert had stayed at the Peckham house. He did not know anything about any arrangements Sickert had made with Mr Orso for his wife and family.
The more they questioned him, and appeared to accept his answers, the more confident Camorra became. He made wide expansive gestures, at times appearing amused and at others times appearing to be concerned, as he gave some thought to their queries. He had laughed when asked if he was practising voodoo.
‘Oh, man! As if! That’s a load of shit those idiots believe in. Me? No way, man, no way — it’s not my scene.’
Anna asked if he could give her an example of what his day-to-day routine was.
‘Well, you know, I’d have to check the kitchen, see what we needed: bread, sugar, cleaning equipment… You’d be amazed at how much garbage we’d have — I used to get these big rolls of industrial black bin-liners. Some of these people that stayed had no English and shat on the floor. I’m not kidding — they was like animals.’
‘Did you look after children at the house?’
‘Sometimes they’d be sent over, yeah, but I’d get one of the women to see to them.’
‘Can you give us a list of the children who were brought to the house?’
‘Christ, I dunno. Like I said, they came and went.’
‘Did you ever perform any kind of ceremonies at the house?’
‘What?’
‘Did you at any time perform ritualistic ceremonies at the house?’
‘No way.’
‘There is a cellar at the house, isn’t there?’
‘Yeah, but that was used mostly for keeping the dogs. You know, I am very worried about my dogs ’cos Mr Orso’s not at home; who’s taking care of my dogs?’
Anna said they were in the police kennels and being well looked after. At this point, Camorra licked his lips and said he was thirsty. Langton shrugged. The old station did not have any water fountains, so they had brought water in with them in a large plastic water bottle. This was now empty.
‘Do you know a Doctor Elmore Salaam?’ Langton asked.
‘No. I’m really thirsty,’ Camorra repeated.
Langton bent down and picked up a smaller water bottle from beside his chair; he unscrewed the cap and poured out some water for Camorra, then half-filled his own plastic cup.
‘You have never been to him as a patient?’
‘No — well, maybe. Name rings a bell, but I don’t remember seeing him.’
‘Have you ever practised voodoo?’
‘Me? No way, man! Like I said before, I don’t go with all that shit.’
Langton glanced at Anna, then turned back over pages of his notes, tapping his pencil. ‘You have admitted that you had numerous people staying with you at the house in Peckham, amongst them children; we will need their names and forwarding addresses.’
‘I dunno where they are; you know, they was just transient. Few days, sometimes a few weeks, then they was found work and moved on.’
‘So you never kept any record of these people you say stayed?’
‘Look, all I am is an employee of Mr Orso. He would arrange their work permits. They went all over the country.’
‘Did you ever have Joseph Sickert’s two sons staying?’
‘I didn’t even know he had kids.’
‘But you knew his wife, Ella Sickert?’
‘No.’
‘She was working for Mr Orso.’
‘Then I might have met her; like I said, Mr Orso would arrange his own domestics.’
‘In the house at Peckham we found a printing press and—’
‘I know it was there,’ Camorra interrupted. ‘Mr Orso had people come in to work, you know; you’ll have to ask him about that.’
‘Do you know what it was used for?’
‘Well, we had to do a lot of copying — for references and so on.’
‘You were aware that the people sent to stay at the house in Peckham were illegal immigrants?’
Camorra held up his hands. ‘Okay, look — I admit I maybe suspected they was not in the UK legit, right, but I had nothing to do with bringing them in. Like I keep on saying, all I did was work for Mr Orso. I got paid well so, like, I didn’t ask questions.’ He gulped down the water and licked his lips. ‘I need to go to the toilet,’ he said.
Langton checked his watch and broke off the interview for a toilet break. Camorra was taken out by an officer; his solicitor remained in the room. Langton picked up his water and walked out into the corridor. There he lit a cigarette and used the beaker as an ashtray.
Anna leaned against the wall. ‘Well, we’ve got no comment from Orso; Camorra’s laying everything at his feet.’ She hesitated. ‘When do you start to put the pressure on him?’
Langton shrugged, walked over to a bin and tossed the plastic cup inside. ‘When he gets back, we go from the top again. I’ve just let him run. A lot of the other cases are linked to him; he was obviously doing more than just following orders, but you know what the reality is: the most incriminating evidence we have against him is the murder of Carly Ann, plus harbouring illegal immigrants and running a brothel.
Anna went to the cloakroom and splashed cold water over her face, then combed her hair. By the time she returned to the interview room, Camorra had been brought back. He was sitting next to his solicitor, but crouching in his seat, complaining of feeling hot.
Langton was already checking through the massive file in front of him and talking Camorra through his rights again. The tape was switched back on. Langton gave the time and date. ‘Now, Eugene, you’ve been very helpful, but we will need to go back to questioning you about the murder of Carly Ann North.’
‘I’ve told you all I know about her. I had nothing to do with her murder. That was down to Idris Krasiniqe, and you got him banged up for it. He admitted it; his brother was screwing her.’
‘You have stated that at no time did you drive a white Range Rover.’
‘I can’t drive automatic, I told you this; I was never in that bloody car.’
‘On the night of Carly Ann’s murder, this vehicle was seen—’
Langton was interrupted. ‘I don’t give a shit who saw whatever — I wasn’t in it.’
‘You are lying, Mr Camorra.’
‘I am not fucking lying: that Range Rover was used by Rashid Burry. I have never even been inside it.’
‘We have a fingerprint that matches yours. You do recall that when you were first brought into the station, your fingerprints were taken?’
‘Look, I might have been driven in it once or twice, but I told you: on the night Carly Ann was murdered, I got witnesses that I was with all night.’
Suddenly, Camorra whipped round in his seat to stare at the wall behind him; he brushed his shoulders frantically and then turned back to Langton, who continued.
‘You have admitted that on the night of her murder you had sex with her: what time?’
‘I don’t fucking remember. She was my girlfriend, right? I had sex with her all the time.’
‘We have a statement from Idris Krasiniqe that you in fact raped Carly Ann.’
‘That is bullshit. She was my girlfriend! I never had to rape her.’ Again, he turned in his seat and brushed at his shoulders; then he became very agitated.
‘Mr Krasiniqe claims that you then forced him to have sex with her whilst his brother was injected with poison and made to watch.’
‘I am not gonna listen to this, because it’s all lies. Those two brothers cheated on me; that little bastard Eamon was screwing my girl. Maybe, if I—’
There was a pause. Camorra licked his lips. He had started sweating: it was dripping down from his hair and patches appeared under his armpits.
‘If you maybe what?’ asked Langton.