‘Mummy, where are you?’
He stared into Gill’s eyes and they both laughed before Gill called out, ‘I’ll be one minute, sweetheart. I’m just helping Daddy with something.’
They rearranged their clothes, smiling but not speaking, until Patrick said, ‘I’m sorry. About before.’
‘It’s OK. But we do need to talk.’
‘I know. I promise. It’s just . . . this case, I have so little time.’
She placed a hand on his chest. ‘I understand. And I’m sorry too.’
She left the room and came back carrying Bonnie.
‘Let’s arrange a date night,’ he said. ‘As soon as this investigation is over or slows down. I’ll get my mum to babysit. OK?’
He’d left them both with a kiss, and now here he was, two hours late, heading towards Suzanne’s office, wondering if perhaps that date night might arrive sooner than he’d thought. If the investigation had ended without him.
He knocked on Suzanne’s door and was called in, surprised to find her with the chief superintendent, Gordon Stretton, who wore the same kind of smile Gareth and Martin had displayed. Stretton was a large man in his fifties, with thick hair and – according to gossip – thin skin. He stood beside Suzanne’s desk. She was smiling too, but a little more warily.
‘Guv,’ Patrick said, nodding at Stretton.
For the second time that morning, Patrick found himself on the receiving end of a look he couldn’t quite read. In retrospect, he would remember it as the look a football manager gives their former star striker just before telling them they’re going to spend the foreseeable future on the subs bench.
‘Patrick,’ Stretton said. ‘I was just congratulating DCI Laughland. Seems she has one or two excellent DIs under her command. Or one, anyway.’
Patrick bristled. What did that mean? He looked at Suzanne, but she was shuffling some papers and avoiding his eye.
‘See you for a celebratory drink later, Suzanne?’ Stretton said, pushing past Patrick and heading out.
As soon as Stretton shut the door behind him, Patrick said, ‘What the hell’s going on?’
‘It’s Winkler. He’s arrested someone for the murders of Rose and Jess. Wendy’s killer too, I expect, but Adrian is talking to him first, then Strong is going to interview him about Wendy’s death.’
‘Hang on. Interview who?’
‘Mervyn Hammond.’
Patrick blinked. ‘What? Hammond? That’s . . .’
‘An item of Rose’s clothing was found at Hammond’s house.’
‘By Winkler?’
‘Yes, following an anonymous call. Winkler was already there, questioning Mr Hammond.’
Patrick listened with increasing disbelief as Suzanne relayed the story Winkler had told her that morning, after turning up at the station with Mervyn Hammond handcuffed in the back of his car.
Winkler and Gareth Batey had found a photograph of Hammond among Nancy Marr’s possessions. Winkler had unearthed rumours about Hammond and young girls, followed him and seen him visit a children’s home after hours. Finally, he’d discovered Rose’s ‘LUCKY’ knickers in a bin bag on Hammond’s property.
‘Hammond’s got no alibi for any of the murders. Not that he’s telling us about anyway. When Winkler brought him in, Hammond started shouting about how he was going to make sure Winkler and I were on the front of every paper between here and Timbuktu for threatening and intimidating an innocent man. Since his lawyer arrived he’s gone quiet, started saying “no comment” to every question.’
Patrick’s mind raced. Hammond? Could it be him? He thought back to his own interview with the PR man. He found Mervyn deeply repellent, arrogant and slimy – but a serial murderer?
‘Stretton was acting like we’ve definitely got our man,’ Patrick said.
‘Yes. Well, this underwear.’
‘Which seems very convenient. An anonymous tip-off?’
‘Exactly. I can already hear Hammond’s lawyer in court. If it even gets that far. We need more, Patrick. I want you to join the interview. See if you can get Hammond to start talking. And be careful, OK? I really have no desire to see my name on the front page of The Sun.’
Chapter 45
Day 14 – Patrick
Suzanne knocked on the door of interview room one and beckoned for Winkler to come out. He pushed himself slowly up from his seat and loped out of the room. Before the door shut, Patrick caught a glimpse of Hammond sitting beside his lawyer – a red-headed woman whom Patrick didn’t recognise. Hammond had his trademark bag of nuts open in front of him and was staring into space, seemingly deep in thought. If you could hear a mind whirring, Hammond’s would be as loud as a helicopter.
‘How’s it going?’ Suzanne asked.
‘He’s still saying “no comment” to everything, on the grounds that he may incriminate himself. But I’m going to crack him. Don’t worry. We’ve got almost a whole day before we need to charge him. I’ve already caught him out lying, a ton of times. He looks up and to the right when I ask him anything tricky, which, as we all know, is a clear indicator that he’s fabricating instead of remembering.’
Winkler sounded so smug that Patrick couldn’t help snorting. ‘You’re kidding! You’d be laughed out of court if you use that as evidence!’
‘I want Patrick to join the interview,’ Suzanne said.
‘No way!’
Patrick was tempted to say ‘Yes way’, but resisted, even though the horror on Winkler’s face had brightened his mood considerably.
‘Patrick has interviewed Mr Hammond before and I believe he was very communicative then.’
‘Highly,’ said Patrick.
‘Yeah, well, Lennon gets on well with people who hurt kids.’
Suzanne stepped between them before Patrick could punch Winkler in the face. ‘Adrian. That is uncalled for. Patrick is going to lead this interview from now on—’
‘Lead?’ Winkler’s voice rose an octave.
‘—and if you make one more comment like that you’ll be looking at a transfer to traffic before the week is out. Do you understand?’
Winkler glared like a toddler who’d been told to share his precious sweets with his sibling. ‘This was my arrest, though, don’t forget that. I don’t want him getting all the credit.’
Suzanne hissed at him. ‘For fuck’s sake, we are a team. Do you understand that? I’ve a good mind to pull you out of this interview now and send Carmella in with Patrick instead.’
‘Good idea,’ said Patrick. ‘Where is Carmella?’
‘In interview room three, taking a statement from Hammond’s housekeeper, Miss Wattana.’
Winkler had gone purple. ‘You . . . You can’t—’
Suzanne pointed a manicured finger at him. ‘I won’t do that. Yet. But I want a word with you after this interview. Just get Hammond to talk. Both of you.’
She turned and marched away, leaving both Patrick and Winkler looking after her. Patrick opened his mouth to say something conciliatory to Winkler, to try to make peace before they went into the interview room. If they didn’t put up a united front, this interview was doomed. But before he could speak, Winkler pushed open the door and went inside, giving Patrick no choice but to follow him.