‘Which you’ll claim you know nothing about.’
‘Which I’ve already told you I know nothing about.’
‘Correction, Mr Johnson. You denied responsibility for this major crime. You didn’t say you knew nothing about it.’
‘Well, I’m saying it now.’ Again they studied him without comment, letting the silence stretch until he found himself compelled to break it. ‘What is this crime you’re trying to pin on me, anyway?’
‘We’re talking about the biggest one of all, Mr Johnson. Capital murder.’
The words had a ring he couldn’t escape in this increasingly claustrophobic place. His throat felt very dry as he said, ‘I know nothing about that.’
Rushton raised his eyebrows and turned his face towards the older man next to him. DS Hook didn’t take his eyes off their subject of study, but took up the questioning. ‘Two houses away from the place where you were apprehended last night, on the same side of the road, a man was shot dead. As far as we can tell at the moment, at about the time you were in the area, Mr Johnson. You can see why we’re interested in what you have to say about it.’
It was suddenly vitally important to Wayne that he should convince them of his innocence. The pigs would frame you for anything they could. But surely the law wouldn’t allow them to pin something like this on him? ‘I didn’t do it. It’s not my style.’ He wanted his denial to carry more conviction, but his voice sounded thin and frail. ‘I’m a breaker and enterer, if you want, but not a murderer. I wouldn’t do that.’
Hook studied the thin, frightened face. ‘Do you know, Wayne, I’m almost inclined to believe you about that? Not your style, murder. But as you’re a known criminal in the vicinity at the time, you can see why we have to question you about it. You wouldn’t be the first young fool to panic when interrupted and resort to violence he never intended.’
‘Well I didn’t.’ As he sought frantically to convince them, a thought that might bring salvation flashed like an exploding firework into his brain. ‘I’ve never carried a weapon. And I wasn’t carrying one last night. You can search my van, if you like.’
Hook smiled at his naivety. ‘That’s already been done, son. Lots of interesting stuff, which will become evidence in due course.’
‘But no gun.’
‘No firearm, as you say. Which reinforces my view that it probably wasn’t you who dispatched the victim. And you’ve no previous history of violence. The question is, are you able to help us and thereby help yourself?’
Wayne peered at him suspiciously. He’d met pigs before who said you could help yourself. Usually that just meant land yourself deeper in the shit, by telling them everything they wanted to hear. But if what these buggers said was right, he’d been nearer to a killing than he’d ever been before. He didn’t like the feeling. ‘I didn’t shoot anyone and I don’t know who did. I’d tell you if I did.’
Bert Hook shook his head sadly. ‘Pity, that. I thought you might have been able to do yourself a bit of good. Look, let’s accept for the moment that you had nothing to do with this killing, that you were there for other purposes entirely. Criminal purposes, as you’re going to admit when your brief gets here, but not capital murder. We haven’t got an exact time for it yet, but last night some person or persons unknown killed a man two houses down the road from where you were operating. Think hard, son; it’s in your interests to do so. You must have had your ears cocked for any sort of noise all the time you were in that house. Did you hear any activity in The Avenue?’
A few seconds of silence, which this time stretched as long for the CID men as for Johnson. Then he said dully, almost like a man under hypnosis. ‘There was a car.’
Hook said quietly, ‘Don’t make anything up, Wayne, just because you think it might help you. It will do the opposite, in the long run.’
‘No. There was a car. In the road, just after I’d got there.’
‘Parked there?’
‘No. It drove in. I’d reversed my van into the drive at the end house. That’s easier for loading, and you can get away quickly if you need to, see. I’d just switched off when this car turned into the road and drove past.’
‘What kind of car, Wayne?’
‘I don’t know. It was dark and I only saw it side-on as it passed.’ It was suddenly important to him to convince them of the detail of this. ‘Dark colour, I think. Not silver or white, anyway.’
‘You must have listened hard when you were about to break and enter. Did the car drive on, until it was out of earshot?’
‘No.’ Wayne, frowning with concentration, felt a swift wave of excitement sweep over him as he realized what he was going to say. ‘No, it stopped quite quickly. Turned into one of the houses further down the road and switched off.’
‘How far down the road?’
He shook his head in frustration that he couldn’t be precise. Despite his low-key questioning, the PC Plod detective was excited, and Wayne had caught some of that excitement himself. ‘I couldn’t say. They’re big houses, with quite a distance between them.’
‘So it could have been two houses away from you?’ Hook was leading the witness, but this wasn’t a court of law.
Wayne shivered suddenly; it surprised him more than them. ‘It could have been, yes. I was just happy that it was well away from me. I listened for a minute, to make sure of that. I suppose I thought it was just someone coming home.’
‘Think hard, Wayne. Did you hear that vehicle again? Did you hear it drive away?’
‘No. I was doing the house over after that. Perhaps twenty minutes. Maybe even a bit longer. I didn’t hear any other vehicle sounds. I didn’t hear your blokes drive into the road, but they were waiting for me at the gates.’
Hook glanced at Rushton to convey that he didn’t think there was anything more to be had from this wretched, frightened figure. The DI said, ‘I hope for your sake that everything you’ve said is genuine, Mr Johnson. As regards your burglary, you may expect be charged and released within an hour, once your brief arrives. Let us hope that we have made an arrest for the homicide committed close to where you were last night by the time your case is heard. That would enable us to assure the court that you gave us every assistance with a more serious crime.’
In the end, it was Sue Charles who offered comfort to Edwina Preston.
She saw her first in the car park behind the supermarket, when she was preparing to do her weekly shop. Edwina was sitting quietly behind the wheel of her car. She did not appear shocked or even surprised. She simply looked as if her thoughts were elsewhere. Like someone listening to music on the radio or CD, perhaps, thought Sue. She did that herself sometimes, when there was an aria or the movement of a symphony she wanted to hear to its end. Buying for one did not take very long. Sue emerged with her purchases within ten minutes, which included the two when she had been queuing at the till. She would buy vegetables and her first strawberries of the year from Percy at the little greengrocer’s on the high street. She liked to support his stubborn resistance to the march of the supermarkets. She’d seen his little notice with its flying apostrophes as she drove past.
Edwina was still sitting in the driving seat of her car, with exactly the same abstracted, unseeing expression. Sue hesitated for a moment, then went over to the little dark green Fiat. She put on a cheerful smile and waved at Edwina from the front of the car. The face behind the wheel started violently, apparently did not recognize her for a moment, then smiled weakly. Sue opened the door of the car. ‘Are you all right, Edwina? I saw you before I went into the supermarket.’ As if that explained everything, she thought stupidly.
Edwina nodded slowly. Then she shook her head vigorously. ‘Peter’s dead.’