Jane felt that Hastings was being genuine and wondered if Gibbs was wrong about him, and was making his suspicions fit a preconceived notion of guilt because he disliked him. Moran then turned the subject to the last time Hastings had seen his mother. Andrew said it was on Tuesday, when they played a round of golf at the Coombe Hill club together. He had also spoken to her on the Thursday about playing that Sunday, but she had told him she was going to be busy.
‘Did your mother say anything about what she was doing on the Friday or at the weekend?’ Moran asked.
‘No, not a thing. When Agnes phoned me on Sunday morning, I thought my mother might have gone to a hotel on her own for the weekend.’
‘Has she done that before?’ Jane asked.
‘Yes, a few times she’s gone to the Grand in Brighton, but usually in the summertime, and she lets us know beforehand.’
Moran told him they’d check with the Grand, just in case his mother had been there. Moran looked at his watch and told Hastings there were just a few more questions he needed to ask.
‘I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Mr. Hastings, but I need to ask you what you were doing on Friday and Saturday.’
Jane noticed a slight change in Hastings’ demeanor. He licked his lips and sat up, but before he could reply, Blake stepped forward and put his hand on Hastings’ shoulder.
‘I’ve explained to Andrew that he might be asked some probing questions about his movements in order to eliminate him from the investigation. He understands that it’s “par for the course.”’ Blake laughed at his own golf pun.
Hastings forced a smile. ‘I realize you have a job to do, DCI Moran, but I can assure you I didn’t kill my mother. Even though she was planning to leave everything to me in her will, she had already put what money she had into a trust for her grandchildren. I do inherit the flat, but I helped her buy it with my own funds. After my father died, I took my mother in and paid for everything, even setting up a monthly income from the family business, which is paid directly into her bank account.’
Moran looked at Jane. She wondered if he, like her, thought Hastings was becoming a bit defensive. Moran turned back to Hastings.
‘It is obvious that you cared a great deal for your mother, but you haven’t answered my question regarding your movements on the Friday and Saturday.’
Hastings sighed. ‘On Friday I was playing golf all day at Coombe Hill with Michael, then I attended the club dinner in the evening.’ He looked at Blake, who nodded.
‘Yes, that’s right. The bar closed at midnight and Andrew went home at around half twelve,’ Blake stated.
‘I got back home just after one a.m. and went straight to bed.’ Hastings sat back in his chair and once again looked at Blake.
Jane felt as if she was watching a rehearsed play, in which Hastings and Blake were the lead characters, trying to convince the audience they were honest, upright citizens. It was clear to her that the two of them were lying. Jane looked at Moran again, who appeared uneasy and hesitant.
Blake noticed Jane’s expression. ‘Is something wrong, Sergeant Tennison?’
‘No, sir, I was just trying to indicate to DCI Moran that I’m ready for him to ask the next question.’
Moran looked at Blake, then back at Hastings. ‘I believe you won a medal on Friday for coming second in the golf competition?’ Moran asked.
Hastings frowned and directed his answer at Blake. ‘What’s that got to do with my mother’s murder?’
Blake stared at Moran. ‘I don’t know, Andrew. As it happens, I forgot to tell you that you left your medal on the table at the dinner, so I took it home for safekeeping.’
Moran shook his head and sighed with disbelief at the unashamed way Blake was protecting Hastings.
Blake continued. ‘Andrew is obviously tired and emotional and should be with his family. It seems to me he’s told us everything he can, so I think we should call it a day for now and I’ll take him home.’ Blake grabbed his coat from the stand in the corner of the room.
‘I’d be happy to conclude the interview when you and Mr. Hastings tell me the truth about where he really was on the Friday evening,’ Moran said calmly.
‘I object to your insinuations!’ Hastings shouted.
Blake put his hand on Hastings’ shoulder to calm him down, glaring at Moran.
‘As I said, Nick, it’s best we terminate this interview.’
‘You getting all of this down, Tennison?’ Moran asked irately, looking at Blake and Hastings.
‘Yes, sir, I am. Every word.’ Jane sided with Moran.
Moran flexed his shoulders and took out his notebook. ‘DI Gibbs attended Coombe Hill golf club yesterday and made enquiries about Sybil Hastings. Major Whitehead, whom I’m sure you both know well, told DI Gibbs that Andrew Hastings didn’t stay for the prize-giving meal as he’d gone home because one of his children was unwell.’
‘Well, he’s obviously mistaken me for someone else, hasn’t he, Michael?’ Hastings looked at Blake for support, but Blake remained quiet. Hastings continued. ‘I find it disgraceful that DI Gibbs is able to go around tarnishing my good name at the golf club.’
Moran wanted to make them both sweat. ‘Actually, it was DCS Blake who told the major you had gone home, and the major told Gibbs that he gave Blake your runners-up medal.’ Moran turned and looked at Blake, frowning. ‘Why are you lying for him?’
Blake licked his lips and asked Jane to leave the room so he could ‘discuss things in private’ with DCI Moran. As Jane stood up, Moran put his hand on her arm to indicate that she should sit down again.
‘Tennison stays, and if Mr. Hastings continues to lie, I will arrest him on suspicion of murder.’
‘I didn’t kill my mother!’ Hastings shouted at Moran.
‘He’s telling the truth, and I know that as fact,’ Blake said.
‘Well, you’re both doing a good job of perverting the course of justice.’
Blake looked at Hastings. ‘This is getting out of hand, Andrew. For God’s sake, just explain where you were.’
Hastings sighed and lowered his head. ‘I was with Katie Oliver, the wife of another club member who was at the golf dinner. Knowing Katie would be at home on her own, I skipped the meal and prize-giving to go and see her.’
‘You are having a relationship with her, I take it?’ Moran asked, and Hastings nodded. ‘How long were you with her for that night?’
‘From about six p.m. until just after midnight, when Michael phoned me to say that Katie’s husband had just left the club. I got home about quarter to one and went to bed.’
‘I’ll have to speak with Mrs. Oliver to confirm that what you have told me is true.’
Blake looked subdued. ‘I can confirm he was there. I called Katie Oliver’s house from the golf club. She answered, then I spoke to Andrew to tell him it was time to leave as her husband was on his way home. If you must speak to her, then I’d be grateful if you did it at the station and off the record, to prevent her husband from finding out the situation.’
Moran agreed. He knew that Blake was more concerned about his own reputation, especially if Mr. Oliver found out Blake was aware Hastings was screwing his wife.
Moran opened his desk drawer, took out a prepared pro forma and slid it across the table to Hastings.
‘Sign that, please. And before you ask, it’s an authority for me to have access to all your personal and business bank accounts.’
Hastings looked at the form and slid it back towards Moran. ‘No. You know I didn’t kill my mother, so you’ve no right to look into my personal or business affairs.’
Moran looked smug. Jane sensed he wanted to teach Hastings and Blake a lesson and she was right.