As if reading his mind, Cassandra Wakefield said, “This is getting us nowhere, DCI Banks. I trust your search hasn’t turned up a gun of any sort on my client’s property?”
“Not yet.”
She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Like the fingerprint that’s not quite his but might be?” She scooped up the papers in front of her and stood up as if to leave. “Then I suggest we suspend this interview for the time being and review my client’s situation. Pending the results of the house search, the fingerprint identification at this abandoned hangar, as I see it you have no evidence on which to base a charge. I also find myself confused about what it is exactly you want to charge Mr. Tanner with. Threatening this poor woman, murdering Morgan Spencer and Caleb Ross, sheep rustling? What is it to be?”
“We’ll decide that later, Ms. Wakefield,” Banks shot back. “With the CPS of course. And it may include possession of illegal weapons.”
Cassandra Wakefield favored him with a sweet smile, tender lips curled at the edges. “Of course. And in the meantime . . .”
“Just a couple of final points. I’ll keep it brief.”
Tanner looked apprehensive.
“Have you ever heard of a man called Montague Havers?” Banks asked.
Tanner narrowed his eyes. “You do come up with some funny names.”
“His real name is Malcolm Hackett.”
“Means nothing to me.”
“What about John Beddoes?”
“Isn’t that the bloke whose tractor got pinched?”
“It is. Do you know him?”
“Only from reading about it in the paper.”
“Why are you looking for Michael Lane?”
“Who’s that?”
“Who wants you to find Michael Lane?”
“I don’t know what you’re on about.”
“Why did you visit Alex Preston and ask her where Lane has gone?”
“I told you, I never did that. I don’t know the woman.”
“Is it because Lane witnessed something happen at the hangar on Sunday morning?”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Me, too, I’m afraid,” said Cassandra Wakefield. “I think we’ll have to call it a day.”
“Interview suspended at 10:05,” said Banks. Tanner was rattled, he could tell. It wouldn’t be such a bad idea to let him stew for a few hours while the team tried to dig up more damning evidence.
Cassandra Wakefield walked toward the door.
Ronald Tanner, however, lingered a moment, then said, “Look, I’m sure this will all be sorted out soon. In the meantime, please give my regards to Ms. Preston. Tell her I’m sorry she felt that she had to go to such trouble over a silly mistake and I hope her young lad’s all right.”
Cassandra Wakefield stopped in her tracks and turned, an alarmed expression on her face, then quickly shooed her client out of the interview room, where the custody officer was waiting to take him back to his cell.
Gerry Masterson looked at Banks openmouthed and said, “Was that what I thought it was, sir?”
Banks smiled. “Yes, Gerry,” he said. “I’m afraid I very much think it was. We’ve got to get moving fast on this. Our twenty-four hours is running down. We’ve got to connect Ronald Tanner to Morgan Spencer and Caleb Ross. Finding Michael Lane would be a big help. And you might have a look into Tanner’s known associates.”
“What about Alex Preston?” Gerry said.
“I’ll have a word with Annie and AC Gervaise, but I think we’re going to have to increase security on Alex. She’s in far more danger now that Tanner knows she shopped him. He obviously isn’t in this alone.”
“I DON’T like it,” Annie said over an early lunch in the Queen’s Arms with Banks and Gerry Masterson. “I don’t like it at all.”
“I’m sorry,” said Banks, putting aside his bacon sandwich for a moment. “But it’s done now. And you know as well as I do that it had to be done.”
“But I’m the one who convinced her to talk in the first place, arranged the sketch artist, had Vic get the fingerprints from the card.”
“None of this is your fault, Annie. You were only doing your job. And it was good police work. Alex Preston herself volunteered the information about Tanner’s visit, even after he had threatened her to keep silent.”
“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to her. Or Ian.” She gave a shudder.
“It won’t come to that.”
“You can’t guarantee it, short of locking them in a cell. Even then—”
“There’s no point jumping to worst-case scenarios,” Banks snapped. “At the moment, Tanner’s the one in a cell.”
“Yes, but you and I know damn well how long that will last. That Harvey Nicks lawyer of his will have him out on the street the minute his twenty-four hours are up. What are you going to do then? Put Alex and Ian in the witness protection program? We don’t have one.”
“I’m sure something along those lines could be arranged, but it’s not necessary yet.”
“You mean you won’t do anything until you’ve brought Tanner’s accomplices into the open. You’re using Alex and Ian as bait?”
“That’s not fair,” said Gerry.
Annie shot her a dark look and turned back to Banks. “It’s true, though, isn’t it? That’s why you had Gerry here in on the interview and not me. You didn’t trust me to keep my cool. These people are out there covering their tracks, and the closer we get the more danger all the people on the fringes are in. They’ve got rid of Spencer and perhaps Ross. They’re after Michael Lane, maybe they’ve even got to him already, and now there’s Alex and Ian, too.”
“It’s Lane they want,” said Banks. “Not Alex or Ian.”
“No, but they’ll use her and Ian as a means to an end, won’t they? And we’ve seen just how much respect for human life they have. I saw Caleb Ross’s and Morgan Spencer’s bodies in the pass, too, you know.”
“I know,” said Banks. “But this all started with Spencer. He wasn’t killed as a part of any cleanup operation, or for information, as far as we know. We don’t know why he was killed, but I think Michael Lane does. There’s a different motive for his murder, and as far as we can be certain, there’s been only one murder so far. We might suspect that Caleb Ross’s van was sabotaged, but we have absolutely no evidence of that. The CSIs have managed to get the pieces back to the forensics garage and they’re still working on it. Until they can tell us something definite, we’re only investigating one murder: Morgan Spencer.”
“Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better.”
Gerry Masterson nibbled on her chicken in a basket and looked from one to the other. “I’ll get back to the computer with the lists straight after lunch,” she said. “We’ve got plenty of names from a number of sources. Maybe it’s Venture Properties?”
“Venture?” said Annie. “What makes you think that?”
“Just that someone who has invested in the new shopping center development would be in a good position to know the state of negotiations and the lie of the land at the airfield. I mean, I doubt the place was chosen just at random.”
“Good point,” said Annie grudgingly. “I must admit I had a funny feeling about Venture.”
Banks laughed. “I always have a funny feeling around property developers. It doesn’t mean they’re all murderers.”
“I’m not saying anything about murderers,” said Gerry, tucking a stray tress of red hair behind her ear. “It’s probably just a business to them.” She glanced at Banks. “And I’m not saying Venture is involved, only that their lists might provide a connection.”
“Have you got anywhere with that name I gave you yesterday? Montague Havers?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” said Gerry. “It took a bloody long time and a lot of perhaps less than legal maneuvers, but I got the name.”