‘Come in, Alex, close the door and take a seat.’
Fleming noticed Temple had chosen to sit behind her desk and not at the coffee table. This was going to be formal, whatever it was.
Temple closed the file she had in front of her and looked hard at Fleming. ‘Alex, I know you have a job to do and it’s not easy at the best of times, but you do know how to make things difficult for yourself, don’t you?’
‘Ma’am?’
‘You seem to have a bee in your bonnet over Anthony Hayden. I believe you’ve asked for further enquiries to be made despite the fact there is no forensic evidence to link him to the murder.’ It was a statement, but Fleming knew from the tone of voice that it demanded a response.
‘I’m running a check on all the CCTV footage we have. I want to trace and interview all the owners of cars that appear in Bourne End on the night of the murder. I’m hoping that will exclude Hayden. I’ve also asked DC Anderson to check with his neighbours to make sure he didn’t leave the house that night. I want to be able to rule him out completely, that’s all.’
‘The chief constable isn’t going to be happy.’
‘He said he wanted me to put the Hayden business to bed quickly. That’s what I’m trying to do.’
Temple didn’t look impressed. She put her hands flat on the desk in front of her and spoke slowly and quietly. ‘Do I have to remind you that he also said he didn’t want anyone going to see Carl Yapp, the reporter? He said the last thing we need is him claiming he’s being harassed by the police, did he not? And what do you do? You go and see him!’ Temple clenched a fist and slammed it on the desk.
‘I was–’
‘Adding to the problem!’ Temple was losing her usual calm composure for once. She took a deep breath and carried on. ‘He phoned me after I’d issued a statement categorically denying the allegations of corruption. Know what he told me?’
‘What?’
‘He said a detective by the name of Fleming had gone to see him and had threatened him. That true?’
‘Not exactly. I–’
‘Not exactly!’ Temple’s face had reddened. ‘What exactly did you say?’
‘I simply said he should be careful about running any more unfounded stories, that’s all. By the way, he had no evidence whatsoever. It was Damien Potts who made the allegation. He reckoned Nielson had told him he had bent coppers in his pocket, that’s it. Potts is just trying to have a dig at the police. And now he’s done a runner.’
‘Great. Has he done a runner because he knows we’ll be after him for making false accusations, or because he killed Nielson?’
‘Probably the former. I was going to come and see you anyway this morning. I’ve arrested Eric Rainer for Nielson’s murder. He’s in custody. We applied to court to detain him for another three days so we can carry on interviewing him while we’re waiting for fingerprint and DNA results. It’s no secret he hated Nielson, he lied over his alibi, we have CCTV footage of him near the scene of the crime, and he tried to evade capture.’
‘So why haven’t you charged him?’
‘We have no evidence to put him at the actual crime scene. I’m waiting for forensics to get back to me. If that proves conclusive, I’ll charge him.’
Temple seemed to relax and a glimmer of a smile crossed her face. ‘So, we could have a result by the end of the day. That will cheer the chief constable up. He’ll be glad to get Cecil Daubney off his back.’
Fleming cleared his throat. ‘Let’s wait and see. I have a sneaking suspicion this isn’t going to be as clear-cut as I thought.’
Temple’s face had stiffened again. She glared at Fleming. ‘What’s the problem? You’ve just said you’ll charge him if the forensic results are positive.’
‘The problem is that I somehow suspect that the results may not be conclusive–’
‘Hang on, Alex. You arrest the man. You take his fingerprints and DNA. Are you now saying you’re not convinced he is the murderer?’
‘I’m saying I doubt we’ll have enough evidence to secure a conviction in court if the forensic evidence isn’t conclusive.’ Fleming hesitated, unsure if Temple could take more bad news. ‘There is something else. Something I found out after arresting Rainer…’
Temple frowned. ‘Why do I think I don’t want to hear this?’
‘The thing is… I went to see someone yesterday: a man who served in the army with Nielson in Afghanistan years ago. He’s one of the men in the photograph I found in Nielson’s house. It turns out Charles Trenchard lied to me about knowing Nielson. Said he couldn’t remember the name.’
‘So?’
‘He was Ronnie Nielson’s platoon commander… and apparently they didn’t see eye to eye.’
Temple threw her hands up in the air in despair. ‘Oh, fuck! Don’t tell me you have him down as a suspect now, just because he forgot someone’s name. That’s all we need. First, you suspect a former colleague. Then we get allegations of corruption, a reporter making a complaint against us, you chasing after Jimmy Calder, and now you’ve got your eyes on a man who may be the next prime minister! You certainly know how to attract trouble, Alex. Tell me you’re not seriously going to follow this up. Matthew Upson will go ballistic.’
‘I’m afraid I have to, ma’am. When I spoke to him, I had a feeling Trenchard was being guarded about something. He seemed anxious to avoid any discussion about his army career. The man I saw yesterday was sure something happened in Afghanistan involving Trenchard: something that seemed to change him.’
‘Alex, that was years ago. Can you remember everyone you met years ago? And don’t you think you would have changed if you’d served with the army in Afghanistan?’
Fleming shrugged. ‘I hadn’t intended going to see him again… unless I don’t have enough to charge Rainer–’
Temple drew a deep breath. ‘Alex, you will not go to see Trenchard again, full stop. Not until I’ve cleared it with Matthew Upson. Understand?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘And, you will not go near Carl Yapp again. That is finished, gone. Understood?’
Fleming nodded. ‘Was there anything else, ma’am?’
‘Get this investigation wrapped up, but with no more hiccups. My patience is running out. Close the door as you leave.’
Fleming headed back to his own office. Logan and Anderson had arrived.
Logan looked at Fleming’s dark face. ‘Everything all right, boss?’
Fleming nodded. ‘Everything’s fine, Harry. Absolutely fine.’
Fleming went into his office, closed the door and didn’t believe for a minute that it was.
49
The atmosphere in the interview room was tense. Rainer sat forwards in his chair with his arms folded on the table in front of him. Fleming had read him his rights again and the tape recorder was running. His solicitor sat next to him looking pensive. Logan was drumming his fingers on the table while fixing a stare across the table at Rainer.
Fleming was looking at an open folder. He tapped a pen on the table and remained silent.
Rainer and Grimes waited expectantly.
Fleming finally drew in a deep breath before speaking. ‘Mr Rainer, you previously claimed you were at home on the night Ronnie Nielson was murdered. Then, when confronted with evidence that proved you were not at home, you said you went to see a female friend in Slough. You also lied about that. I showed you a copy of CCTV footage showing a man getting out of a car at Bourne End. You confirmed it was you. Is that correct?’
Rainer glanced nervously at Grimes. The solicitor nodded. Rainer ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Sweat ran down his forehead into his eyes. He blinked. His voice was barely a whisper. ‘Yes.’
Fleming looked hard at him. ‘Can you speak up for the tape please?’
‘Yes!’ Rainer shouted in exasperation.
‘I asked you to explain what you were doing in Bourne End and you remained silent. Your solicitor, who is also present today, asked for time to have a private consultation with y
ou and I terminated the interv–’
‘Your point being?’ Grimes interrupted.
Fleming ignored him. ‘Have you now had time to reflect on your position, Mr Rainer? Would you now like to tell me what you were doing there on the night Ronnie Nielson was murdered?’
Grimes spoke quickly before Rainer could answer. ‘Chief Inspector, your question verges on suggesting that my client was at the scene of the murder. The fact that he was coincidently in the same area proves nothing.’
Fleming remained silent and stared at Grimes. The solicitor shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Rainer looked at Grimes as though for help. Grimes shook his head slowly. The movement was hardly noticeable.
Rainer glared at Fleming. ‘No comment.’
Fleming persisted. ‘Mr Rainer, you phoned Mrs Dobbs that night to enquire if she knew whether Ronnie Nielson was at home or on his boat. We found your fingerprints on Nielson’s boat. You were at the scene of the murder. Perhaps you can explain that?’
Grimes gasped and shot a glance at Rainer.
Rainer breathed in deeply. ‘All right… I was there. But it’s not what you think. I lied about where I was because you knew I hated Nielson. I thought if you knew I’d been to see him you would sure as hell have me down as the murderer.’
‘What were you doing on his boat if you didn’t kill him?’
‘He was dragging his feet over the divorce settlement. He’d agreed to sell the house so Sarah could get half the proceeds, but hadn’t even put it on the market. Nielson also owed her money from other assets, like the boat for instance. He’d made no attempt to pay her what she was due, the bastard! Sarah’s solicitor had warned him that she would take him back to court, but Sarah was reluctant to go down that route. The divorce had been acrimonious enough.’
Fleming nodded. ‘So, you decided to go and see him. Things got out of hand and you killed him. Is that it?’
Rainer put his head in his hands and slumped over the table. ‘No, no, no!’ he sobbed. ‘That’s not what happened!’
‘Tell me what did happen,’ Fleming coaxed.
Rainer looked at Grimes who gave him a resigned nod. ‘I did go to have it out with him. I got to the boat. The cabin door was open. There was no sound from inside. I felt instinctively that something was wrong. I went down below and that’s when I saw him. He was on the floor in the galley, lying face down in a pool of blood. It was obvious he was dead. I panicked and left. That’s the truth. I swear. You have to believe me! I only lied to you because I knew things would look bad for me if I told the truth.’
Fleming looked at Logan who sat expressionless.
Grimes broke the silence. ‘Are you going to charge my client, Chief Inspector?’ His voice was calm, subdued. ‘If not, you will have to release him.’
Fleming made a decision. ‘Your client is free to go for now. Interview terminated at ten forty-five.’
After Rainer had left with Grimes, Logan was having a coffee with Fleming. ‘Are you stark raving mad, boss? He had a motive, the opportunity, and the means. His fingerprints are all over the murder scene, and he lied. What more do you want?’
‘Something’s missing, Harry. The DNA from the skin tissue found under Nielson’s fingernails doesn’t match Rainer’s. And something tells me he may now be telling the truth.’
‘Bloody clairvoyant now are you, boss?’ Logan shook his head. ‘So, what do we do now?’
Fleming pondered for a second. ‘I’m not a hundred percent convinced we could get a conviction in court on what we have. A good defence lawyer could argue a convincing case. An innocent man in the wrong place at the wrong time. There are other leads. Let’s follow them up and in the meantime, keep Rainer under surveillance. You never know, the murder weapon may yet turn up with his fingerprints on it. We can easily re-arrest Rainer.’
‘Some hope of finding the murder weapon after all this time,’ Logan grumbled.
Bill Watson was at home looking through his emails when he suddenly spotted the one he was waiting for. His heart was beating faster than usual as he opened it. ‘Yes!’ he exclaimed out loud. In front of him was the name and address of a club in Reading where his contact had found Jimmy Calder.
50
Fleming was getting out of his Porsche in the MCU car park when Bill Watson’s Ford swept in with a screech of tyres. He pulled in beside Fleming and slid his passenger window down.
‘Hang on there a minute, Fleming,’ Watson panted. ‘Want a quick word before we go into the office.’
Fleming frowned. Had Watson heard he was making further checks on Hayden? Fleming waited while Watson pulled his ample frame out of his car. A dark blue tie hung loosely round his neck and he’d undone the top button of his white shirt. He pulled his jacket out of the car and slung it over his shoulder. ‘Nice day, eh? Bit hot for me though.’
Fleming was sure Watson hadn’t stopped him to exchange pleasantries. ‘You wanted a word?’
Watson stood in front of Fleming. Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead. He fished into a jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one up and sucked in as though it was his last breath. ‘First one today,’ he said, exhaling smoke from his mouth as he spoke.
Fleming doubted it. He waited.
Watson took the cigarette out of his mouth and examined it through screwed-up eyes. ‘I hear you arrested someone for the Nielson murder, but then let him go.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Why?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ Fleming wondered where this was leading.
‘Oh, just curious that’s all.’
Fleming shrugged. ‘Not quite enough to secure a conviction. Convincing but not conclusive.’
Watson took another deep drag of his cigarette and exhaled a lungful of smoke up into the air. ‘What happened to the Damien Potts lead?’
‘There wasn’t any trace of his fingerprints at the murder scene, but he did a runner after making allegations of police corruption.’
‘That so?’ Watson said thoughtfully.
‘Finding him is a priority.’
Watson peered closely at Fleming through squinted eyes. ‘I also hear you’ve asked for further checks on Anthony Hayden.’
‘You’ve heard correctly. I want to be able to eliminate him from the enquiry if that makes you happy.’ Fleming was getting impatient. ‘Why the sudden interest in my case?’
Watson shifted his feet. ‘Just making conversation.’ He hesitated. ‘Look, there’s some information you may be interested in. It’s a bit sensitive.’
‘Go on.’
‘Did Logan tell you I had a call from Police Scotland?’
Fleming stiffened. ‘He did.’
Watson screwed up his face as though in pain. ‘The thing is… well, I know we haven’t exactly got on since you joined us, but as fellow police officers, we need to stick up for each other, right? I was shocked when they told me what happened to you.’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Yeah, but I bet you wish you could get your hands on that bastard Calder. Am I right?’
‘He’s served his time.’
Watson looked up slyly at Fleming after stubbing out his cigarette butt under his foot. ‘Logan tell you they thought he might turn up in Reading?’
Fleming frowned. ‘He did.’
Watson nodded slowly. ‘I know where you might find him.’
‘Oh?’
‘Police Scotland asked us to let them know if he did turn up on our patch. I got some of my snouts to keep their eyes and ears open, and one of them came up trumps.’
‘So why are you telling me and not Police Scotland?’
Watson belched. ‘Do I have to fucking spell it out for you, Fleming? I thought maybe you’d want to know first, know what I mean? If Police Scotland catch him, the powers that be will revoke his licence and recall him to prison. I thought I’d do you a favour and give you a chance to get to him first.’
F
leming was about to speak, but Watson thrust a piece of paper into his hand, turned and walked off in the direction of the building’s front entrance. Fleming couldn’t see the smirk on Watson’s face as he called out over his shoulder. ‘Good luck!’
Fleming unfolded the paper and looked at Watson’s scribbled note. It was the name and address of a club in Reading.
Later that night at home, Watson was on the phone to his contact in London. ‘Thanks for the email. Very grateful.’ He paused for a second. ‘There’s something else I’d like you to do for me.’
51
Fleming was having another nightmare. The fourth large glass of whisky before he came to bed hadn’t helped. It wasn’t the usual recurring nightmare. Watson had handed him a knife. Fleming took it without speaking. Calder was laughing. Fleming raised his knife hand and was about to plunge it into Calder’s chest when he heard a loud ringing in his ears. He woke suddenly and the alarm clock crashed to the floor as he tried to switch it off. His head was pounding as he crept out of bed and made his way to the bathroom where he promptly threw up.
After a hot shower, two cups of black coffee, some painkillers and a quick breakfast he felt just about able to face the day. He was due to meet Logan in an hour so took a taxi to the station.
Logan was already there. ‘Morning, boss,’ he said, looking curiously at Fleming. ‘You okay? You look a bit rough.’
Fleming hadn’t had time to shave and his eyes were red. ‘Bad night. Time for a coffee before our train?’
They were at Paddington just over an hour later. Fleming looked at his watch. ‘We could save some time if we split up. You get yourself down to Brixton and have a chat with the bookie who owns the flat where Potts was staying. See if he has any idea where he might have gone. Ask around local shops and pubs as well. Oh, and see if you can find Tommy Tyler, the chap who took Potts to Nielson’s Cellar a couple of weeks ago. You never know, he might have taken him somewhere. I’ll go to Nielson’s Cellar and speak to McBain. I’ll meet you back here later. Say, in a couple of hours?’
The Fifth Suspect Page 18
