‘Have you interviewed the staff of this children’s home?’ asked Oliver.
‘There’s a pair of officers on their way now,’ Winkler replied.
‘Why did you go there?’ Patrick asked before Winkler could say anything else.
‘No comment.’
‘I don’t understand what this has to do with your murder investigation,’ Oliver interjected.
‘We believe,’ Winkler said, ‘that it shows a pattern of behaviour, that Mr Hammond here enjoys the company of schoolgirls.’
‘This is preposterous,’ Hammond said, spluttering.
‘Then why won’t you tell us the purpose of your visit?’ Patrick asked.
‘Because it’s none of your fucking business, that’s why.’
Patrick sat back. Could Hammond actually be guilty? They knew he was sleazy. He had paid off Roisin McGreevy after Shawn Barrett hurt her. No doubt that wasn’t the only occasion he’d had to help shut someone up. Patrick also knew that Hammond had represented a rock star who had been shacked up with a fifteen-year-old girl in the eighties, helping this ageing rocker win public sympathy by portraying the girl as a gold-digging hussy who lied about her age.
So Hammond had shown little moral fibre when it came to the issue of underage sex. Also, he had no alibi. He definitely had the access to teenage girls. It would be easy for him to promise that he would introduce them to members of OnTarget, get them tickets to concerts and signed merchandise, or deliver messages to the boys. Now he was refusing to answer a simple question about this children’s home, was flustered, his usually cool demeanour heating up.
‘So you’re not willing to tell us why you visited St Mary’s?’ Patrick asked.
Hammond folded his arms. ‘No.’
‘OK. I’m suspending this interview. The time is 12.25.’
The two detectives walked to Suzanne’s office, not speaking to one another. As soon as they got inside the office, Winkler said, ‘He’s lying, and he’s guilty. We need to get authorisation for a full search of his house, his office, his cars—’
‘Hold on,’ Suzanne said. ‘Patrick? What do you think?’
‘I don’t know for sure.’ He ignored Winkler’s puff of exasperation. ‘But what I do know is that Adrian’s almost certainly got one thing wrong.’
‘What?’ Winkler squared up to him.
‘Your theory about him lying because of the direction his eyes are going is, frankly, bullshit.’
Winkler blustered with outrage. ‘It’s not! It’s widely known that if a suspect looks up to the right, he’s lying, because he’s creating a visual construct, not a remembered one . . .’
Patrick resisted the temptation to roll his own eyes. ‘Yes – perhaps. A right-handed person. Hammond’s left-handed, as he just confirmed. Which means that the process is likely reversed. When he’s remembering, he looks to the right, and if he’s making stuff up, he’d look left.’
Winkler looked mortified and Patrick allowed himself a small moment of triumphal one-upmanship.
Suzanne interjected. ‘Can we stick to actual facts, please? It’s certainly suspicious that he won’t answer any questions about the children’s home. Who’s gone to talk to them?’
‘Gareth Batey’s headed down there.’
‘And is Carmella still in with the housekeeper?’
‘No. She’s writing up the statement now. But Miss Wattana stated that she’s never witnessed any teenage girls at Hammond’s house except when there’s been a party. Carmella said that Miss Wattana actually laughed when she was asked if she knew anything about Hammond’s sexual preferences. She said, and I quote, “He only like trains.”’
‘Yeah. Lying or not, he’s still a weirdo,’ Winkler said. ‘We need to search his house.’
Patrick put up a hand, refusing to get drawn into an argument with Winkler. ‘I think we’re looking at this all wrong.’
‘What do you mean?’ Suzanne asked. She had taken a seat behind her desk and in that moment the sun broke through the clouds outside, brightening the room, catching Suzanne’s hair. She’s beautiful . . . Patrick immediately stamped on the thought.
‘This case, it’s not about sex. Don’t forget, none of the victims, Rose, Jessica, Nancy Marr or Wendy, assuming she was killed by the same person, were sexually assaulted. There was no sign of any sexual activity at all. Winkler here is following a trail based on his belief that Hammond is a paedophile. But that doesn’t fit with the murders.’
‘No,’ Winkler said. ‘My belief is that Hammond is a paedophile, that all of the victims found out, and he killed them to shut them up, to stop his secret getting out.’
‘And that theory could still work,’ Suzanne said, ‘if Hammond isn’t a sexual predator. There could be other reasons he needed to keep Rose, Jessica and Nancy Marr quiet. Some other criminal activity. Drugs, for example. Maybe he deals drugs, sells them to OnTarget’s fans, to the kids or staff at the children’s home.’
‘Maybe,’ both Patrick and Winkler said at the same time.
Suzanne frowned suddenly. ‘Well, whatever it is, we need to decide what to do with Hammond. Patrick?’
‘We don’t have enough to charge him.’
‘Bullshit,’ said Winkler.
‘No, we don’t. Not without a DNA test on the underwear. If we charge Mervyn and then they turn out to belong to someone else . . .’ He didn’t need to finish the sentence. ‘Let’s see what Gareth comes back with from St Mary’s and get the underwear through the lab ASAP. How quickly can they do it if we ask them to make it priority one?’
Suzanne looked at the ceiling. ‘I’d have to ask Stretton to twist some arms, try to get it done overnight.’
‘And in the meantime, we hold Hammond. If the DNA matches Rose, if the children’s home can’t give us a good reason why he was there, then we can search his property. But if we go in now, tear his place apart without even knowing who those knickers belong to, we’ll all be famous. The dumbest police since the Keystone Kops. With you, Winkler, as the dumbest of them all.’
Chapter 46
Day 14 – Patrick
Patrick loitered outside Suzanne’s office for a moment, watching Winkler stomp off towards the custody suite. Usually, it would give him great pleasure to piss Winkler off, but Patrick wasn’t feeling joyful right now, just satisfied that they had bought a little time. He needed to talk to Carmella. Because while they waited for the DNA results, there was another line of inquiry he was desperate to follow.
Carmella wasn’t at her desk, so he headed towards the canteen, hoping he would find her there again. As he turned into the corridor that led to the canteen, he saw Gareth Batey walking towards him.
Gareth stopped in his tracks when he saw Patrick.
‘Gareth.’
‘Boss.’
‘A word, please.’ He gestured towards an empty meeting room and the detective sergeant followed him inside.
Before Patrick could speak, Gareth said, ‘I need to report back to Winkler.’
‘Your new best mate.’
Gareth’s face as usual turned a shade of pastel pink. He was clearly having to work hard to maintain eye contact. ‘I need to report back to him. I’ve just been to—’
‘St Mary’s Children’s Home. Yes, I know. I’m leading this investigation, remember? And I’ve just been interviewing Mervyn Hammond. Tell me what you found out.’
Gareth hesitated. ‘But . . . Winkler told me to speak to him first. I mean, it was him and me who saw Hammond go in that place. Me and Winkler who’ve been tailing him. Adrian said you’d step in and try to take all the credit as soon as we got our man.’ Gareth’s eyes glinted in the artificial light, damp from the emotion it took to give this speech.
‘For fuck’s sake. Can’t you see? Winkler’s using you.’