The telephone rang, breaking the spell, and the Chief Inspector’s irritation could not have been missed by her caller.
‘Yes, Eric. Go home. Get better and, please, please don’t come back to the office until you’re mobile again. Okay. That understood? Fine. Bye.’
‘Suppose…’ Alice started again.
‘How do you mean, “suppose”?’ the Assistant Chief Constable interrupted.
‘It is only a supposition, Sir, but reasonable, I think.’
‘Go on then.’
‘Suppose Christopher Freeman called on his brother on the night of the murder. We know that the Sheriff had, by that time, told Vertenergy that he didn’t intend to allow Blackstone Mains to be included in the Scowling Crags scheme. Surely he must have communicated his decision to his brother, by some means? Anyway, we can check his phone records on that. If he did tell his brother then it seems quite plausible to me that Christopher Freeman might want to visit him. To talk to him. Persuade him to change his mind again and allow the scheme to go ahead. After all, his brother’s DNA was found in number seventy-three.’
‘Is that right, Alice?’ Elaine Bell asked, clearly surprised by the news.
‘Yes, Ma’am. Well, the lab says the stuff from the hairbrush matched…’
Laurence Body interrupted, ‘What on earth are you talking about, Sergeant? “The stuff on the hairbrush”?’
Alice’s eyes met her superior’s with dumb entreaty, then Elaine Bell spoke: ‘Ah, Sergeant Rice used her initiative, Sir. Collected some hair samples, granted in a slightly unorthodox fashion, from Christopher Freeman’s house.’
‘Well, that will be of no use in court,’ Body said coldly.
‘I know, Sir,’ Alice said, ‘but we’ll be able to get one we can use once we take him in.’
‘Bloody stupid thing to do, though. Carry on.’
‘So Christopher Freeman’s DNA is in his brother’s house. He must have been there about the time of the murder. The Sheriff had a cleaner after all. But he’s denied being there, and his wife said that the brothers hadn’t met for years and he, standing right beside her, made no attempt to correct that impression.’
‘They’re brothers, for heaven’s sake,’ Body interjected. ‘If he knows that his DNA was found at the scene then he’ll suddenly “remember” a recent innocent visit to explain it away. Then what will we have left? There was no DNA on the truncheon thing.’
‘Sir,’ Alice said, determined to keep going, ‘we can make it more difficult for him than that. He doesn’t know about the DNA he left in the building. And he’s not a bright spark either. If he did murder his brother in Moray Place he’s going to be determined, on all occasions, to deny going anywhere near the house whenever he is given the opportunity. If in his interview under caution we get him repeatedly stressing that he hasn’t been near the house for years, and he’s bound to say that to protect himself unless he knows about the sample, then he’ll find it very difficult indeed to explain all those denials on the record at his trial if he chooses to give evidence at all. The jury won’t be convinced by him if he’s consistently denied being near the place until confronted with the forensic evidence linking him to it…’
‘Maybe,’ Elaine Bell said, musing, ‘but the interview under caution would have to be handled incredibly carefully.’
‘What else have you got?’ Body said testily, plainly unconvinced.
‘It’s all circumstantial, Sir, about the Nicholas Lyon killing too, but again a sort of picture is beginning to emerge. I think so, anyway. Traffic concluded that Nicholas Lyon was not accidentally run over. The driver of the car seems to have accelerated at him, having been able to see him clearly. Tooles Garage sold Christopher Freeman a new, well, new secondhand, car on the afternoon of 7th July. Alistair got that information from them today. Mrs Freeman, and the Major, admit that they bought their new car two days after Nicholas Lyon’s death, and they both said that the old car had been sold the day before they got the new one. Mrs Freeman’s pretty vague on the sale. Either she doesn’t know anything about it or she doesn’t want to talk about it. Christopher Freeman said he sold the car to a stranger for cash, conveniently enough, scrap value only. A “For Sale” sign was, supposedly, in the back of the car. Only neither his wife nor any of his neighbours remember anything about any “For Sale” signs. It seems likely that Nicholas Lyon met someone at the Moray Place house and Mrs Gunn saw lights in the house before the accident. Suppose Forensics find more of Christopher Freeman’s DNA in…’
‘Hold on. Hold on. Hold on,’ Body said. ‘Forensics are checking Moray Place again, are they? Suppose they do find “more” of Christopher Freeman’s DNA. What exactly can be done with that?’
‘Yes, Alice,’ DC Bell added, concerned, aware of the potential problem.
‘It’s difficult, I know. I did say that. The Defence will, no doubt, suggest that any “more” DNA found was always there, missed by Forensics the first time, and then attempt to cover it by exactly the same explanation as will be proffered for the original stuff. I see that, but it might be useful for us to know. Suppose…’
‘Suppose this. Suppose that,’ Body said sarcastically, patience clearly frayed.
‘Suppose,’ Alice battled on, ‘Nicholas Lyon and Christopher Freeman met in Moray Place that night. I don’t know why, but suppose they did. Both of their phone records could be checked to see if either called the other. The Major might have wanted to talk about the inheritance or whatever… their affairs on any view had suddenly become linked. Suppose Christopher Freeman leaves the house, presumably not having achieved whatever he wanted, and kills Nicholas Lyon, runs him down with his car. It would explain the absence of the white-and I saw it myself-Volkswagen Polo, the timing of its disappearance, and the new DNA, if it’s there.’
‘For Christ’s sake,’ Body said angrily, ‘this is no more than a mass of conjecture, one theory on another. And the little hard evidence that exists will probably melt like spring snow in the hands of a half-competent counsel.’
‘Has Christopher Freeman got an alibi for the killings?’ DCI Bell asked quietly.
‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Alice conceded, adding desperately, ‘but only from his wife.’
‘And no car’s been found,’ the Assistant Chief Constable added.
‘Thank you very much, Sergeant Rice, I’ll speak to you later,’ DCI Bell said, and Alice, now dejected, waited to be dismissed.
‘I think, perhaps, Sergeant, you might more usefully go and see Mr Du Thuy and his friends. Too many coincidences there for my liking,’ Laurence Body added, escorting her to the door.
16
‘Whereabouts do we go, Mum?’ Alice asked, worried that they would be late. Peering round in all directions as if still trying to find her bearings, her mother said, ‘Keep going to the top of this road and then, I think… take the first right.’
‘And you’re sure they’ll have a space there? The place seems to be jam-packed.’