‘Great work, Jeff, if we don’t get him for murder we’ll nail him for possession with conspiracy to supply.’
‘We’re coming back in now.’
‘OK, cheers.’
‘Almost forgot Kyle found two bags of SIM cards, one gaffer-taped to the underside of his wardrobe, and another in the toilet cistern.’
‘Great, more ammunition!’
Murphy decided to celebrate the small victory with a coffee.
CHAPTER 80
‘After performing a forensics sweep of your property, SOCO discovered a large quantity of class A and B drugs stashed in various locations. Ecstasy pills, heroin and nine ounces of cannabis resin to be precise.
‘The SIM card you blasted in your microwave turns out to be one of many. Thankfully, our team are very thorough. The bag you taped to the underside of your wardrobe, and another you hid in your toilet cistern, contained a selection, so stop pissing me around and start telling the truth; else we’ll add wasting police time to the list of charges.’
The colour suddenly drained from Carl Bentley’s face, and his lawyer seemed devoid of a response.
‘So, what do you have to say?’ Murphy continued.
‘I prefer pay-as-you-go phones.’
Murphy glanced at DS Jamieson. ‘Seriously! Like I mentioned earlier, stalling won’t help your cause. Our tech analysis team are retrieving the call data from those as we speak.’
‘So what?’
‘It’s only a matter of time before we link them to the heroin supplier, Yusuf Benzar. We know you work for his brother Ibrahim. The quantity of class A found at your property is enough to send you down for years and that’s excluding the small matter of Barry Gibson’s murder.’
His body tensed. ‘Why are you still trying to pin that on me? I didn’t kill anyone.’
‘I’ll ask you again. Where were you on Friday the fifth of July, in the evening?’
‘I’ve already told you, I went Milton for a few pints and then watched TV with the Mrs later. Are you deaf or summet. It’s on that tape if you play it back?’ Bentley said sarcastically, pointing to the tape player.
‘I’ll tell you where you were; in the city centre drinking, selling ecstasy and coke.’
‘Yeah right, course I was. Look into your crystal ball, did you?’
Humouring him, Murphy replied, ‘Haven’t you heard they’re standard issue now? Window to the world, it’s called CCTV and we have a witness who’s identified you pacing suspiciously up Stafford Street on the night in question, with your hood up.’
‘Bullshit! I went for a few beers in Milton, then home to the Mrs, she’ll tell you,’ Bentley protested.
Murphy held back from probing Bentley about his dubious alibi, and reverted to questioning him about the Ee’s, ‘Barry Gibson’s toxicology report shows he took ecstasy as well as consuming tons of alcohol. That ecstasy has exactly the same chemical compound as the two hundred Kiln embossed tablets, discovered hidden inside your scooter. Bit of a damning coincidence that wouldn’t you say? Furthermore, I checked the drug lab reports on the police national computer.’
‘What’s that got to do with me?’
‘Sixteen year old Katy Hayder died in January this year; from taking the very same Kiln Ee’s you’ve been knocking out. Which is another damning coincidence we can’t ignore, since its likely they came from the same supply batch,’ Murphy knew it was a tenuous link he couldn’t prove, but he wanted to rattle Bentley.
‘You can’t pin that on me. Anyone could have sold her pills. Those Ee’s weren't mine anyway; someone planted them in my scooter. Bastard set me up!’ Bentley protested.
‘You can’t seriously expect us to believe that?’
‘It’s the truth!’
‘Well, they were found in your possession and unless you can give us a name of your supplier, it doesn't look good for you.’
‘That Turkish wanker Yusuf Benzar’s behind all this, I'm telling you.’
‘Really? The thing is, he’s on the run at present. Escaped from police custody, so unless we capture him soon, and he admits all this gear found at your house is his, you’re pretty screwed. Highly unlikely that’s going to happen is it, Carl?’
Devoid of a response Bentley sighed deeply, and slumped back in his chair.
Knowing he had nothing concrete linking Yusuf Benzar with Bentley, until the phone analysis was done, Murphy moved onto the murder weapon, ‘Where have you chucked the knife? These things have a habit of turning up when you least expect them.’
‘What knife?’
‘The one you stabbed Barry Gibson with. Does the ganja cut itself up?’
‘You’re talking bollocks.’
‘All this time wasting will add at least six months to his sentence,’ Murphy said addressing Bentley’s lawyer.
Katrina Osborne sat in Hanley’s police station reception, anxiously waiting to be interviewed. All kinds of disturbing thoughts coursed through her mind. Could Carl really be a murderer? He certainly had an uncontrollable temper. Maybe Luna just wanted to rattle his cage in the hope the police would find sufficient evidence to do him for drug dealing? Whatever happened to him, this was her chance to break free from the bastard. As Luna rightly pointed out she’d done nothing wrong and could do so much better than that loser.
Suddenly the door leading to the back offices of the police station opened and a beer-bellied detective in his early forties with mousy receding hair called her through.
‘Ms Osborne, I’m Detective Sergeant John Murphy. We’re ready for you now, if you’d like to follow me, please?’
She edged across the reception, nerves getting the better of her. Once seated in interview room two, he introduced DS Jamieson and offered her a cup of tea.
‘Don’t worry, Miss Osborne, you’re not under arrest. This is just an informal chat to establish a few facts about your partner Carl Bentley. I can appreciate you must be concerned given this is a murder enquiry. We’ve brought you in to corroborate his alibi. You’re entitled to a duty solicitor. Would you like one to be present?’
Flicking her fringe, she declined the offer.
‘But first, DS Jamieson and I want to ask you about Carl. It will help us build up a picture of his personality and social activities. Can he be violent?’
Unconsciously clenching the bruised arm he’d inflicted on her recently; she couldn’t resist the urge to tell them about his physical abuse. ‘He loses it sometimes, after too much beer.’ Her eyes welled up as she held back tears.
‘Has he ever hit you?’
‘Not really.’ She said curling her lip nervously.
‘I don’t want to upset you Miss Osborne, but could you be more specific? Has he ever abused you in any way at all?’
‘Yes,’ she murmured, ashamed to admit it.
‘I’m sorry we have to ask these sensitive questions. When was the last time he was violent towards you?’
‘The other night. He pushed me and I fell onto the fireplace and smacked my elbow.’ She slid her sleeve up revealing a large greenish bruise, swollen blue around the edges.
DS Jamieson gave Murphy a judgemental glance. ‘Phew! Looks painful?’ Murphy said. ‘Does this kind of thing happen often?’
‘No. He’s just normally a mouthy bastard when he’s pissed.’
‘Has he ever threatened you with a knife? Something small, easily concealed in a coat or trouser pocket?’
‘No, never! Why do you ask that?’ She said shocked.
‘Because the murder victim was stabbed with a small knife.’
‘I see,’ she gave him a worried look.
‘Going back to my previous question. What led him to push you?’
‘We were arguing over money and stuff.’
‘Anything in specific?’
‘Not really. I lost my job a while back and he doesn’t give me enough to live on.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. And he’s been violent before this?
‘A long time ago when we
were on holiday in Corfu. He slapped and punched me, but nothing since the elbow.’
‘I see,’ Murphy said, trying to empathise. ‘How often does he drink?’
‘Mainly at the weekend.’
‘Which pubs?’
‘Local. He uses all the Milton pubs, The Foxley, The Millrace, Traveller’s Rest, Miners Arms and Bar 41.’
‘Has Carl mentioned being involved in any fights, or disagreements recently? Has he come home with any cuts or black eyes?’
‘No, nothing.’
‘Does he venture into Hanley much?’
‘Not often.’
‘Is it possible he was in Hanley last Friday evening?’
‘Suppose, but I didn’t see him.’
‘You were in town last Friday?’ Murphy knew Bentley was lying all along.
‘Yes, Luna and me.’
‘Miss Luna Ellis?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s interesting, because on the fifth of July, Carl told us he was with you at home watching TV around ten-fifty p.m. when the murder was reported. Judging by what you’ve just told us, that’s not true?’
‘He said we were at home last Friday night?’ Taken by surprise she welled up again.
‘Afraid so. It helps to remember your movements that evening. It’s OK, take your time?’ DS Jamieson said, offering her a clean tissue.
Kat sighed before recalling one of the most unforgettable nights she’d had in years, until emotions got the better of her. Tears rolled down her cheeks. They’d been together for twelve years, and deep down she still had feelings for him. She felt so lost and alone, mindful that the truth could send Carl to prison, but there would be serious consequences for lying.
‘Sorry, Ms Osborne, but I have to press you about Carl’s alibi last Friday. Were you with him at home at between ten and eleven p.m.?’
Her eyes dropped to the table, and the detectives saw she was wrestling with her conscience.
In the end her gut instinct prevailed. After a moment’s pause, she uttered, ‘No!’, before realising there was no going back.
‘What time did you hit the town, and which pubs did you use?’ Murphy asked.
Nervously she recalled the evening’s events.
‘Er… started off in the Auctioneers, then sat on the terrace outside the Slipware Tankard.’
‘What time did you stay in the pubs till?’
‘Around half eleven.’
‘And after that?’
‘We ended up in the Genting Casino.’
‘Just Luna and yourself?’
She paused again before reluctantly divulging. ‘And another person.’
‘Was it another man?’
After more silence, she nodded.
‘Can you tell us his name?’
‘It was a one-night stand.’
‘And you didn’t ask his name?’
‘Not really.’
‘I know these questions are very personal, but it’s important we check who you were with. Especially since Carl lied about being with you.’
Again, she nodded nervously.
‘Is there any reason you don’t want to tell us his name? Do you think he’s given you a false name?’
‘No.’
‘You sound certain, how do you know?’
‘I don’t want to get him into trouble.’
‘Is he married?’
‘Divorced, I think, but I doubt he’d admit he was with me.’
‘Why?’
‘Would you?’
‘Depends on the circumstances. I’m sure you appreciate how serious this is. We’re dealing with a murder inquiry, in which your partner is a key suspect. My forensics team swept your property around an hour ago; they discovered significant quantities of class A and B drugs, amongst other evidence. Those have been fast tracked to the lab. Carl’s DNA and fingerprints will be tested against those found on the victim at the crime scene. If they match it’s likely he’ll be charged with murder. We don’t want to charge you for perverting the course of justice, but we need a name.’
Kat looked racked with worry.
‘You said it was a one-night stand. Where did you go after the casino?’ Murphy continued.
‘I left Luna with the man’s brother. He booked a room at the Willow Hotel.’
‘His brother?’
‘I’m sure his names Yusuf.’
Murphy’s eyes lit up as she revealed their escaped prisoner was with her friend on the night of the murder.
‘What time was that?’
‘Not sure. Around half past twelve, I think.’
‘And you stayed there until what time in the morning?’
‘Got back home about half six.’
‘Did Carl kick-off when you got in?’
‘He wasn’t there, so I got into bed and made out like I’d come home. He came in around eight, said he’d crashed on his mate’s sofa.’
‘Which mate?’
‘Johno.’
‘What’s his real name?’
‘John McKnight.’
‘Does McKnight live in Milton?’
‘Yeah, he lives in one of the council flats just off Bagnall Road. Don’t know the street name.’
DS Jamieson noted the name in his pad. Playing good cop he chipped in. ‘We’ll be speaking to Mr McKnight to verify this. We understand this is upsetting you, so DS Murphy and I will give you a few minutes to think it over, but we need a name? Would you like a top up?’ He pointed towards her empty plastic cup.
With that they left her to mull it over, knowing full well a break from questioning would intensify the pressure.
They returned to the interview room ten minutes later. Kat had composed herself. The tears had dried up, and she’d touched up her eye blusher and ruby lipstick.
DS Murphy placed the tea on the table in front of her and asked, ‘Do you have a name for us, Ms Osborne?’
Without further hesitation she said, ‘Ibrahim something. I don’t know his second name. He’s originally from Turkey.’
Alarm bells went off in Murphy’s head. ‘Where would we find him?’
‘I don’t know where he lives, but he owns one or two businesses in Hanley.’
‘What businesses?’ Murphy asked already knowing the answer, but wanted her to confirm it.
‘A bar called the Slipware Tankard and a gym called the Dojo.’
Those two added to the Black Sea Mini-Market made it quite a property portfolio. Murphy thought.
She stalled. ‘What will happen to him?’
‘We just need a brief chat with him to prove he was with you all night. If that checks out OK, you’re both in the clear.’
‘What do you mean, if it checks out? I’ve done nothing, and neither has he.’
‘It’s standard procedure, that’s all. I’m sure everything will be fine.’ The Benzar brothers were involved in two key investigations at present. The fact Yusuf Benzar was on the run and they’d arrested and searched Ibrahim’s properties recently, supported his theory that they were dangerous and organised. Was it just drugs, or were they planning something much bigger? Whatever they were into, he and DI Blake were determined to take them down.
‘Benzar, that’s your mystery man’s surname. Ibrahim Benzar. I’d steer well clear of him, love; he’s a right nasty bastard that one. We’ve issued a warrant for the arrest of his brother Yusuf, who escaped police custody a few days ago.’
‘What’s he done?’ Kat said with a worried look.
‘I can’t go into detail as the investigation is ongoing, but let’s just say there’s large quantities of drugs involved,’ Murphy informed her.
By the tired look on her face Murphy could tell the interview was feeling more like an interrogation and decided they had enough information for now.
‘OK, thank you for your cooperation. We’ll speak to Ibrahim Benzar in due course. You’re free to go, but if you think of anything else, you can call me on this number?’ He placed his card on the table.
CHAPTER 81
It was 9.30 p.m. and Carl Bentley had been in custody for over two hours. Both detectives were determined to push on with a murder case that had so far yielded zero clues in a week, before opening up in the space of twenty-four hours. Bentley’s false alibi opened up new lines of inquiry, and they needed to question two persons of interest before they had time to concoct different versions of events.
‘Best if we split up on this one, Roger. You take PC Evans with you and head on over to Milton to have a chat with John McKnight and Terry Clarke. They might let something slip. I’ll have a wander across to the Slipware Tankard with PC Haynes to check out Katrina Osborne’s story. Something’s not right here. Ibrahim Benzar was only released from custody twenty-four hours ago, and we need to question him again, only this time about an alibi for the missus of a suspected murderer.’
‘You think they’re linked in some way?’ Jamieson said.
‘I really don’t know, but she’s been shagging his boss behind his back; there’s definitely some association here, but the clock’s ticking. If there’s not enough evidence, he’ll swerve the murder charge.’
‘OK John, Evans can ride shotgun.’
‘Naughty!’
‘It’s been a long day and I’m too knackered to flirt.’
‘I’ll call you around ten-thirty,’ Murphy said, looking at his watch.
‘Synchronised.’ Jamieson smirked.
The Slipware Tankard was only a few hundred yards away from the station. Murphy made a quick call to DI Blake.
‘Tom, we’ve arrested a suspect in the Barry Gibson case.’
‘Who?’
‘A bloke named Carl Bentley; he’s got previous for football violence. A woman recognised him from the CCTV still in the Sentinel, and called it in. Roger and I are about to question Yusuf Benzar’s brother, Ibrahim, regarding Carl Bentley’s alibi Meet us outside the Slipware Tankard in twenty minutes; I think you should speak to him again.’
Leaving Bethesda Street, Murphy and PC Haynes crossed over the tarmac island and joined Lower Marsh Street on foot. Outside the Slipware Tankard they waited for Blake to arrive.
Ten minutes later the three of them stood at the bar. A bearded bartender, with a sleeve tattoo covering his right arm and two pierced ear plugs they could see through, stood behind it.
The Killer Shadow Thieves (DI Tom Blake, #1) Page 26
