by Sally Rigby
‘You’re being a tad melodramatic. Were you in handcuffs?’
‘No.’
‘Were you arrested?’
‘No.’
‘So, as far as anyone else is concerned you were doing your duty by helping us solve the murder of your best friend and business partner.’
He slumped in the seat. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Good. I’m glad we’ve got that sorted. Before we start, I’ll set up the recording equipment.’ She pressed the button. ‘Interview on Friday, March the twelfth Those present: Detective Chief Inspector Walker, Detective Inspector Clifford and … please state your name for the recording.’
‘Scott Marshall.’ He punched his fist into the palm of his hand. ‘Before you start, I’d like to say something.’
‘Go ahead,’ Whitney said.
‘Naomi told me that you know about us.’
Ah. Was that why he hadn’t asked for a solicitor, so it could be kept low-key?
‘Why didn’t you mention it when we last questioned you?’
‘I didn’t think it was relevant.’
‘You have got to be kidding. How could it not be relevant when we’re investigating the murder of her husband?’ She shook her head in exasperation.
‘If you think Naomi killed Ryan, you’re wrong. She can’t have because we’d arranged to meet at the time it happened, but Sienna was sick and Naomi wouldn’t leave her. I spoke to her for much of the night after I’d got home, so I’m her alibi and vice versa.’
‘Are you telling me that you were talking on the phone for two hours, from one until three?’
‘No. But for some of the time.’
Her jaw flexed. ‘Wait a minute, the last time we spoke you said you went straight home drunk. Are you changing your story?’
‘Yes.’ He bowed his head. ‘I was the first to leave Ryan’s. I’d driven myself over there and parked a little down the road so the others couldn’t see. Naomi and I had planned to meet at Wigston Park at twelve-thirty. And before you ask, no I wasn’t over the limit. I only had a couple of beers. Nobody noticed, we were too busy eating and playing snooker. I went there, but Naomi didn’t arrive. She called me at one to say she couldn’t make it, so I went home.’
‘That still allowed plenty of time for you to have arranged to meet Ryan at the club and shot him. Naomi could’ve been in on it, too.’
Marshall glowered at her. ‘Stop with your false accusations. I didn’t kill Ryan. Nor did Naomi. This is why we didn’t tell you. We knew you’d try to pin the blame on us.’
‘Why did you tell us Rory Clarke called you a taxi?’
‘I messed up when we first talked by saying I’d got a taxi, because it wasn’t in my call log, so I pretended one of the others called it for me. Then you said you thought it was Rory so I agreed. It seemed the easiest thing to do.’
‘Except now we know that Rory called it for himself.’
‘I might have lied about that, but everything else I’ve told you is the truth.’
‘Let’s talk about your affair with Naomi. How long has it been going on?’
She wanted to know if his version was the same as Naomi’s.
‘About a year.’
‘When did you decide that you were going to leave your partners and set up home together?’
‘Um …’ He hesitated, glancing upwards.
‘I’m not sure they did,’ George said in her ear.
‘It’s a simple enough question,’ Whitney pushed.
‘We’d talked about it generally, but nothing had been finalised. It was more a case of it being a long-term plan.’
‘That’s not how Naomi explained it to us. She was quite definite you were planning to move in together, although it would be delayed now, after Ryan’s death.’
‘Yes, exactly.’ He expelled a breath. ‘We can’t think about it now because of what happened to him. It’s something we may consider in the future.’
‘I’m getting the impression that Naomi is more committed to you living together than you are.’
‘It’s tricky, especially now.’
‘Why is Naomi attracted to you, do you think?’
‘What sort of question is that? Why wouldn’t she be? Ryan was a great guy, but I think she found him boring compared with me. She likes a bit of excitement and unpredictability.’
Whitney exchanged a glance with Clifford, refraining from rolling her eyes at his arrogance.
‘Have you had affairs in the past?’
‘I fail to see why that has anything to do with it,’ he said.
‘He means yes,’ George said.
‘That’s my call. Can I take it that as well as Naomi you have cheated on your wife at other times during your marriage?’
He threw his hands in the air. ‘Yes. I admit it.’
‘Did you ever considering leaving your wife for any of these other women?’
‘Never.’
‘Does your wife know of these affairs?’
‘There were a couple of occasions when she did find out I’d been seeing someone.’
‘What happened?’
‘I ended it and we stayed together.’
‘Do you think your wife might know about your relationship with Naomi?’
‘I’m not sure. She hasn’t accused me, which is what she did in the past when she found out.’
‘If she had confronted you about it, what would you have done?’
‘It’s complicated because of the way the business is set up. My wife has a stake as it was her money I used when putting up my share.’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but if you and your wife split up, then it would cause you financial problems, which you would want to avoid.’
‘Yes,’ he said nodding.
‘So, we’re actually getting two different stories here. One from Naomi Armstrong who believes that you were definitely going to leave your partners and set up home together. Another from you that it wasn’t a foregone conclusion, and most likely not going to happen. Why do you think her understanding of the situation is so very different from yours?’
‘I don’t know. You know what women are like.’ He looked at Clifford.
‘No, I don’t. You tell me,’ Whitney said, leaning forward and fixing him with a cold stare.
‘Women are more emotional and, you know … Anyway, it doesn’t matter whatever it is, we’re not doing anything at the moment, we can’t. Not now Ryan is dead.’
‘Returning to your wife, how careful were you in ensuring that she didn’t find out about the affair?’
‘We used WhatsApp with false names when messaging each other and always deleted after reading them. But how is Jess’s knowledge about the affair relevant to Ryan’s murder? For which both Naomi and I have an alibi.’
‘Your alibis are tenuous, to say the least. But that aside, you could have been in it together. You’d have all the money she inherits, which includes half of the snooker club and would certainly go some way towards mitigating the loss from your wife withdrawing her funding.’
‘What a load of shit. You must be desperate to find the killer if you’re accusing us. How many times do I have to tell you? Ryan was my business partner and my best friend. The business is doing well, in no small part because of Ryan’s presence at the club. Why would I rock the boat?’
Whitney exchanged a glance with Clifford. They were going around in circles. It was time to move on. But first they needed to regroup.
‘Interview suspended for the time being. We’ll be back shortly.’
They left the room and met George in the corridor.
‘From his mannerisms and answers, I don’t believe he ever intended to leave his wife. I think this was another affair which could well have run its course if it hadn’t been for the murder.’
‘Let’s grab a coffee and leave him to stew for a while,’ Whitney said. ‘Then you can question him about the money, Seb.’
Chapter 26
Seb walked a couple of step
s behind Walker and Dr Cavendish. They made an odd couple, seeming total opposites, in personality, background, as well as physicality. But he’d glimpsed a closeness and mutual respect that went much further than working together. What bonded them? Her determination to remain in overall charge of the case, irrespective of what the higher-ups had to say about it, impressed him. And as for her disdain for Chief Superintendent Douglas, that amused him. The man was a sycophant of the first degree.
He was fully aware that his background caused one of two reactions. Either folks went out of their way to make sure they didn’t treat him any differently from other members of the force, including merciless teasing about his accent and background. Or they put on an upper-class accent, which they couldn’t maintain, and tried to make him their friend, wanting him to think that they were the same as him. Needless to say, he much preferred the former. The whole point in him joining the force was to get away from his stifling upbringing. It was bad enough when he had to attend certain events to keep his family happy. But other than those he was content to keep his distance.
DCI Walker had already poked fun at how he spoke, but he suspected that was as a result of her friendship with Dr Cavendish. He’d been surprised when she’d offered for him to take the lead in the second part of the interview, without him having to ask. He’d been expecting a modicum of resistance. He wasn’t as convinced as she was that the shooting was unconnected to his operation, and that it was likely linked to the affair between Armstrong’s wife and his partner. They’d learn soon enough, though. If he was right a decision had to be made. One he suspected Walker wouldn’t be happy about.
He adjusted the earpiece he was wearing. If Dr Cavendish was highly rated by Walker, then he knew, without reservation, that she’d be good. He looked forward to having her input.
Dr Cavendish left them, and Walker opened the door to the interview room. Did she still expect him to sit to the right of her, or would she leave the seat opposite the interviewee for him? She did, and he flashed a smile in her direction. She gave a sharp nod in return.
‘Interview resumed.’ Walker said, restarting the recording.
‘Why am I still here? Surely you’ve asked me everything you want to know?’
‘I want to move on from your affair with Ryan Armstrong’s wife, Mr Marshall. My interest is in the illegal betting that takes place at your snooker club on a regular basis, which you endorse,’ Seb said.
‘The what?’ Marshall’s brow furrowed.
‘Your manager has a gambling side hustle, and he informed us that not only were you fully aware of its existence, but you were happy to allow it to continue.’
‘Oh, that.’ He glanced to Walker a blank expression on his face. ‘Look, it’s harmless. Small bets on the side, nothing major. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do it again.’ He waved his hand dismissively.
‘It’s illegal,’ Whitney stated.
‘Yeah, okay, I get it. But like I said, they were small wagers on the side. It’s done all the time in clubs like ours. Why make such a big deal of it?’
He certainly played a good part when it came to acting innocent, but he’d have to try a lot harder than that to pull the wool over Seb’s eyes. He’d been in the game far too long for that to happen.
‘It’s illegal,’ Seb repeated, keeping his voice flat. ‘But we’ll put that to one side for the moment. Tell me about the money that’s been going into your bank account from Singapore, via several other overseas financial institutions. How do you account for it?’
Marshall looked away briefly, before fixing his gaze on Seb. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know anyone in Singapore, so why would I receive money from there?’
‘He’s not telling the truth,’ George said in his ear, causing him to start. He’d forgotten about her being there. ‘His voice increased in volume when talking to you, and his feet were shuffling under the table which you wouldn’t have been able to see. He’s exhibiting other signs, but these are enough in themselves.’
He nodded his acknowledgement.
‘I don’t believe you. Are you telling me you don’t know what’s in your bank account?’ He leant forward slightly, and Marshall tensed. One of the benefits of being a large man was he had the ability to intimidate those he was questioning.
‘My wife handles all the finances.’
Seb gave a frustrated sigh, loud enough to indicate to Marshall that he didn’t believe him. ‘We are fully aware of the joint bank accounts you and your wife have. I’m referring to the one in your name only. Regular payments were made into it. On July the seventh last year fifteen hundred pounds. August the twenty-third, two and a half thousand. September the fifteenth, five thousand. October the twenty-first—’
‘What are you, a robot? How do you know that?’
‘I read your bank statement. I can go on. The latest payment to reach your account was ten days ago. Ten thousand. The biggest yet.’
‘He’s scared,’ George said. ‘Look at the micro-expressions on his face. His lower eyelids are tense, and his mouth is half-open. I suggest you take a less confrontational approach and let him know that you’re there to help him.’
Again, an excellent contribution made by Dr Cavendish.
‘If you’re in trouble or have got yourself involved in something you’d rather not be a part of, then you can tell me and we’ll help. Are you being paid to throw matches?’
Seb stared directly at Marshall, looking for some of those telltale signs Dr Cavendish had pointed out to him. He had some knowledge of body language as he studied it when looking at match throwing, but they were different signs from the ones she’d highlighted.
‘I have never thrown a match in my life.’
‘Try again. We can go through footage of every single match that you’ve played and our experts will soon be able to tell.’
‘That would take you ages.’ Marshall folded his arms in front of him, a belligerent expression on his face.
‘Not as long as you’d think as I’ve got a good research team back at the Met and use the latest software on the market. Our sole purpose is to investigate fraudulent behaviour in gambling and, at the moment, we’re looking into match-fixing in the snooker industry, in particular at an international level.’
Marshall sunk down in his chair. ‘You can’t say you heard it from me.’
Seb exhaled a satisfied breath. Now he was getting somewhere. ‘Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Why are they paying you?’
‘I was approached by a man who knew about my affair with Naomi. He said he represented an organisation from overseas and that if I didn’t do as he asked, he would blow the whistle on me and that it would ruin the business. He said they’d pay me, and that would stop me from going to the police because then I was as guilty as they were. I had no choice.’
‘What did you have to do for this money?’
‘Set up matches between specific players. They were friendlies and didn’t have to be part of a tournament. They told me who was to win the match, and I ensured that it happened.’
‘And these players were quite prepared to throw a game for money?’
‘Yes. It wasn’t like they were matches which mattered. What you’ve got to understand is, unless you’re a top-level player, like Ryan, professional players don’t earn enough money to live.’
‘Like you?’
‘I have the snooker club which supplements my income.’
‘Let me get this straight,’ Walker said, asking a question for the first time. ‘You get paid for arranging matches that are fixed and all of you get paid. People then bet on the match and make a lot of money. Why don’t you fix matches in tournaments?’
‘It’s harder to do because tournaments attract a lot of media coverage,’ Seb said, answering for Marshall. ‘Were these matches always held at your club?’
‘Not always. We’d have different venues. I’d travel around the country and arrange them, often they were exhibition matches which
would attract public interest.’
‘How were you contacted, and by whom?’
‘I don’t know who contacted me. I’d get a text message instructing me what to do, and after the match the money would appear in my account.’
‘Were you responsible for paying the players involved?’
‘No, it was all arranged in advance.’
‘How long have you been a part of this?’ Seb asked.
‘About nine months.’
‘And did Ryan suspect?’ Whitney asked.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Did your contact mention Ryan at all?’
‘No.’
‘When is the next match you’ve got set up?’ Seb asked.
‘Four weeks’ time. In Birmingham.’
‘Have all the arrangements been made?’
‘Yes, everything’s in place. Do you want me to cancel the match?’
‘You’ve got two choices. The first is that we prosecute you for what you’re doing and put an end to your part in it and, yes, we would cancel the forthcoming match in Birmingham. Alternatively, you can work with me and my officers so we can track down the nucleus of this particular overseas organisation and put a halt to their operation, which might take a little longer.’
It could work. If Marshall was being watched by their men, they wouldn’t suspect he was there discussing the syndicate. They’d think he was being questioned about the shooting.
‘Do I have a choice?’ Marshall asked, resignation clouding his face.
‘Everyone has a choice, but my advice is that you work with me and avoid a prison sentence.’
Not counting the death of Ryan Armstrong, which still played heavily on his mind, this was turning out to be most fortuitous. The information Marshall would be able to provide would most likely give them a breakthrough.
‘I’ll do it. But I want some guarantees.’
‘Which are?’
‘Protection for my family. If these people find out what I’m doing, there’ll be a price to pay. I can’t risk their lives.’
‘Your family’s security would be a priority. Trust me. We’ll make sure they don’t find out.’
He wouldn’t make the same mistake he had with Ryan and have their meetings discovered. He still had no idea why they’d been targeting Ryan. Did Marshall know?
