Savage Moon

Clegg's eyes flashed and he raised a hand to brush Jon's finger away.

Go on, you fat fuck, Jon thought, I'll drop you, whatever your size. Their eyes connected and Clegg changed his mind. He stepped back and his hand lowered. 'How could I ever have known it would escalate into this?'

'Maybe it wouldn't have if you'd been straight with me,' Jon muttered, turning away. Shit! He tried to integrate this new piece of information into the scheme of things. His immediate thought was that it placed Clegg firmly on the list of suspects. And Sutton. The farmer's suspicion about his wife were correct. Had he come across actual proof and killed her as a result? Glaring at Clegg, he said in a little more than a growl, 'What sort of a man is Sutton?'

'You mean, could he have killed Rose?'

'Full marks for intuition.'

'He didn't know about us.'

Jon slammed a palm against the wall. 'That wasn't my fucking question! Besides, how do you know he didn't find out?'

'Because he would have come for me. There's something in him. Something cold.'

Jon felt his fingers curling up. I would so love to throttle you.

'You didn't tell me this because you were afraid of what Sutton might do? Don't you think your opinion of Sutton would have been of some use earlier in this investigation? Why is he so cold? Give me an example. Did he treat Rose badly?'

'Not physically, but emotionally. There was no affection, no love. It was just a partnership. They ran the farm together, that was it.'

'Why does that make him capable of violence?'

'It doesn't. That dog he shot. The one that was worrying his sheep. He didn't shoot it once. He winged it with one barrel, then emptied the other into it at point blank range. After that, he tied it to the rear bumper of his Land Rover and dragged its carcass across the field to the couple. I could tell he'd relished it. There was something in his eyes as he described doing it, a sadistic look. I thought, you could do that to any living thing, animal or human.'

Jon also remembered the cruel delight in Sutton's voice as he'd recounted the event. 'And you approved his application for a high-powered hunting rifle. I can't believe you kept all this back. You're off the investigation, you understand? And I want a statement from you about all of this, along with your where- abouts on the night of each murder.'

'On the night of each murder?'

'Think about it, Clegg, you're right in the shit over this one. Now, where's your senior officer? You're going to tell all this to him.'

On the way back down from the Superintendent's office, Jon ran over Clegg's admission. It still didn't seal things up. Sutton had moved up on the list of suspects, true. But he'd a seemingly sound alibi for the night Rose died. In his gut, Jon didn't think Clegg could have done it either. The man had immense physical power, no doubt about that, but there was no motive Jon could think of for killing Peterson and Kerrigan too.

Hobson? Still in the picture, no doubt about it. But what was his connection to Peterson and Kerrigan? And how could he have known Danny Gordon? That would be a good place to start. He opened the door to the interview room and got an impatient glance off Rick.

'Sorry for the delay. Some new information just came to light.' He flicked the tape back on. 'Interview resuming at ten forty-six, now present in the room, DI Spicer, DS Saville and Jeremy Hobson.' He removed the photo of the Silverdale five-a- side team from his folder and slid it across to Hobson. 'The youth in the middle of the football team. Have you ever seen him before?'

Hobson regarded the photo for all of a second before looking up. Here we go, thought Jon. Never seen him. To his surprise, Hobson nodded. 'He worked briefly at the zoo.'

'Danny Gordon worked at your zoo?'

'That's Danny Gordon? My God, I didn't realise that was his name. As part of our community involvement, we accept lads from the Silverdale facility on work placements. The one helping me today, he's from there.' He turned to Jon. 'Only a fraction of any zoo staff are permanent. During holiday periods we need to double our numbers, so we take seasonal staff from many places. Students of zoology, animal behaviour and veterinary sciences, along with more casual workers.'

Jon glanced at Rick, who was looking equally surprised. Rick turned back to Hobson. 'So Danny Gordon did a stint at your zoo. When?'

'A few years back.'

'Doing what?'

'Cleaned tables in the cafe´. I offered to let him help with the animals, but he obviously didn't enjoy it. City lad through and through.'

Jon thought about how Samburu's hairs had turned up on all three victims. 'Did he ever help out with the panthers?'

'Once. He hated the smell though. Unlike his friend. He took a real shine to them.'

'Who?' Jon asked.

Hobson placed a finger over the head of James Field. 'Him. They arrived together. He was called James, I think. Far more enthusiastic. In fact, he was one of the best workers the Silverdale ever sent.'

Jon felt light-headed. He didn't know how it fitted together, yet, but he knew this was it. 'You're saying James Field had plenty of contact with the panthers?'

'Oh yes. I trusted him to feed them, clean them out. He took to studying their behaviour, learning their natural history, everything.'

'Hunting techniques?'

'Yes. I expected him to apply for a full time job to be honest. I would have taken him on too.'

'Gordon and Field were good mates?'

'Absolutely. They stuck together each break time, shared those roll-up cigarettes they all seem to smoke. James was stronger, more mature. I got the impression it was almost a big brother, younger brother kind of thing between them.'

Jon took a deep breath. Slow down, he thought. Keep your head clear. All that stuff James Field had said about hardly knowing Danny Gordon. What bullshit. 'Right, I'm concluding this interview at ten-fifty.' He clicked the tape off and looked at Hobson. 'One minute please, Rick and I need to talk.'

Out in the corridor he had an almost overpowering urge to leap into the air. 'It's Field. Am I right?'

Rick's eyes shone with excitement. 'How does it work? Field killed Sutton, Peterson, Kerrigan and his best mate?'

'No, Danny Gordon killed himself, unable to take it after Peterson humiliated him all over again. Field found his friend's body and decided to settle things with Peterson himself. He added the word to Gordon's suicide note. Simple revenge. Kuririkana. Remember. It was payback for what happened in the past.'

'So how do the other deaths fit in?'

'We'll find out soon. We've been concentrating on Danny Gordon. But if it's Field doing the killing, there's no wonder we haven't found any links between the victims. We need to get over to that garage straightaway.'

Thirty-Three

The side street was still clogged with cars. Droplets of rainwater were clustered on the windscreens, drips slowly fell from dented bumpers, pooling in the oil-stained puddles. A train rumbled by overhead, wheels screeching on the steel tracks.

Jon and Rick hurried along the narrow street, halting at the door to 'A and L Repairs'. Sensing Rick was hanging back, Jon looked over his shoulder. 'What?'

'I just thought, shouldn't we get back-up? If it's him, he's got one evil weapon on him.'

Jon paused, realising his eagerness had got the better of him.

'There's no back way for him to get out by. We can call for help once we know he's inside.'

He knocked on the door before pushing it open and stepping into the dingy interior. A Vauxhall estate was up on jacks, the legs of a dirty pair of overalls poking out from beneath. 'Hello there,' Jon announced.

The legs twitched and the garage owner wheeled himself out from beneath the vehicle, the body board he was on completely obscured by his bulk. 'Yes gents?'