by Eva Dolan
‘What time was this?’ Zigic asked.
She shrugged. ‘Around ten, I think. I remember thinking it was too early to go to bed and I wanted to watch a couple of episodes of How to Get Away with Murder.’
Ms Hussein’s nostrils flared in alarm and Nadia realised what she’d said.
‘It’s just a show.’ She looked desperately between them. ‘It’s not like a how-to guide.’
‘Great show,’ Ferreira said reassuringly. ‘So addictive.’
Nadia calmed slightly and went on. ‘So, we went up and Patrick brought me my sleeping pill and I went to bed.’
‘Do you usually take a sleeping pill?’ Ferreira asked, already suspecting the answer by the matter-of-fact way Nadia mentioned it.
‘I’ve been taking them ever since I got out,’ she said. ‘I can’t sleep without them.’
‘And does Patrick usually decide when you’re going to take one?’
Nadia’s shoulders rounded even further, like she wanted to fold herself up. ‘No, he isn’t like that. He’s not controlling.’
‘But he insisted that night?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘And I didn’t think it was that weird because I wasn’t feeling great, and he was trying to look after me and make sure I got enough sleep, so I thought, he’s a doctor, I should probably listen to him.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I fell asleep and that was it.’
‘Did Patrick leave the house that night?’ Ferreira asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Did you hear anything? His car leaving maybe?’
‘I was knocked out,’ she said. ‘They’re really strong pills.’
‘What about the next morning? What time did you get up?’
‘My alarm’s set for eight.’
‘And was Patrick at home?’
‘Yes, he was in bed with me.’
‘How did he seem to you?’
‘Normal,’ Nadia said. ‘He didn’t wake up when my alarm went off but he doesn’t always, so I left him in bed and went down to make breakfast.’
Ferreira was trying to keep the frustration out of her voice, trying to hold a steady pace to her questions but she was failing.
‘Did you see anything to suggest that Patrick left the house on Saturday night?’ she asked.
‘No, I’m sorry.’
‘Did he mention Dr Ainsworth to you?’
‘No.’
‘He didn’t express an intention to go and speak to him?’
‘Only that one time after the break-in,’ she said shakily.
Zigic was looking at Ms Hussein now, his hands clasped tightly on the tabletop, a bare thrum of annoyance coming off him. She’d suggested Nadia had vital information, used it to ensure her client was treated more gently, tried to leverage a recommendation of leniency out of them.
Nadia did have useful information but there was no way Ms Hussein could know the significance of Ainsworth stealing a hairbrush. And as it stood Nadia wouldn’t need their goodwill to help her avoid a prosecution because she appeared to know absolutely nothing about Sutherland’s movements on the night of the murder.
Had Nadia changed her story overnight? Ferreira wondered. Come up with this sleeping pill excuse so she could claim ignorance of Patrick’s behaviour and sidestep being an accessory after the fact?
‘How did you feel when you heard Dr Ainsworth had been murdered?’ Zigic asked, voice stony.
‘I was very sad,’ she said. ‘He was a good man.’
‘Did it occur to you that Patrick might have been responsible?
She blinked, her eyes shining. ‘He promised me he wouldn’t go there. If he promised me then why would he go?’
‘Patrick expressed an intention to scare Dr Ainsworth off.’ Zigic’s shoulders squared angrily. ‘Then, on the night of the murder he drugs you and packs you off to bed. You’re an intelligent young woman, Nadia, that must have struck you as a suspicious chain of events.’
‘Nadia has explained the situation to the best of her capability and recollection,’ Ms Hussein said in a warning tone. ‘I’m sorry she couldn’t give you what you need but the fact remains that she has cooperated fully and you have absolutely no reason to keep her in custody any longer.’
‘Interview suspended 12:14 p.m.,’ Zigic said, then pointed at Ms Hussein. ‘Outside, please.’
They went into the corridor, Zigic moving in that slightly stiff way Ferreira knew meant he was fuming and trying to hide it.
‘You have nothing to charge her with,’ Ms Hussein said the second the door was closed. ‘You may as well release her now and I can try and get her into a decent hostel while we still have some of the day left.’
‘Nadia’s hiding something,’ Zigic said as if he hadn’t heard her. ‘Yesterday you implied that she had information about Ainsworth’s murder.’
‘No, you assumed I implied that,’ she countered. ‘I simply assured you that Nadia would cooperate to the best of her ability, which she has done.’ She patted the bun at the nape of her neck. ‘And I’d say she has given you pertinent information. Does Patrick Sutherland have an alibi now? No, he does not. Has Nadia’s sighting of Ainsworth breaking into the house given Sutherland a motive for murder? Why, yes it has.’
‘We’re going to need to talk to Nadia again,’ Ferreira said. ‘Things are moving very fast right now and there’s a good chance she can help us still.’
‘Which she can do from a hostel.’
‘She’s staying here,’ Zigic said, in a tone that killed further debate. ‘We’ll call you when you’re needed, Ms Hussein.’
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
‘She’s good,’ Zigic said bitterly. ‘I’ll give her that.’
‘Are you regretting calling her?’ Ferreira asked.
‘Yes!’ He shook his head immediately. ‘No, I suppose not. She’s just doing her best for the girl. I can’t blame her for that.’
They were standing at the board, nothing new on it since they’d gone into the interview room but Nadia had given them something at least. Not what they wanted, a firm statement against Patrick Sutherland, but it was a start.
‘So, I was right about Ainsworth going for a DNA sample,’ Ferreira said, sounding slightly smug about it but he guessed she deserved to feel that way. She turned to him, an urgent look on her face. ‘Do you think the hairbrush is still at Ainsworth’s house?’
‘Was it in with the stuff from forensics?’ he asked.
‘No, but why would they take a hairbrush they will have thought belonged to Ainsworth? They already had his DNA.’ She called over to Murray. ‘Colleen, are you busy?’
‘It’s nothing that won’t wait.’ She spun away from her desk. ‘You want me to go and see if I can find this hairbrush, then?’
‘If you could.’
Murray grabbed her bag and her keys. ‘Do you know what it looks like?’
‘Bristles, handle,’ Ferreira suggested.
Murray pulled a face of fake amusement. ‘I’ll go down and ask Ms Baidoo for a description, will I?’
‘That’s probably a good idea,’ Zigic said.
‘And I’m guessing it won’t just be in the bathroom?’
‘Check his office,’ Ferreira said. ‘He seemed to like keeping stuff in box files and since he was clearly trying to build some kind of case against Sutherland my guess is he’ll have separated it out somewhere.’
‘Got it.’ Murray traced a salute at her and left the office.
‘You think that’s what he was doing?’ Zigic asked, dropping into Murray’s vacated seat. ‘Trying to gather enough evidence to go after Sutherland?’
‘Why else would he want to prove it?’ Ferreira was writing on the board now, adding what they’d got from Nadia. ‘Sutherland cost him his job on a trumped-up assault charge; it makes total sense that Ainsworth was looking to get his own back on him. Find the evidence that Sutherland was grooming and exploiting inmates, get the DNA match for Dorcus’s baby, then he takes it to Hammond and he has to sack Sutherland.
’
‘Not come to us?’
‘I don’t think this was about getting Sutherland banged up,’ she said, tapping the marker pen against her knuckles. ‘Ainsworth had his reputation shredded, I think he wanted to do the same to Sutherland.’
Zigic considered it, idly picking a couple of jelly babies from the open jar on Murray’s desk. Joshua Ainsworth seemed like a highly moralistic man, someone who put his ideals before everything, taking a job that paid less than he could have earned elsewhere, which was more stressful and drew down the kind of hassle that you didn’t suffer working in A & E or a GP surgery. He was at Long Fleet because he believed it was the best place for him to do good and being that man was clearly important to him.
Wasn’t it natural that he’d want to regain his untarnished reputation?
Natural too that Patrick Sutherland would want to protect his own good name. And the access Long Fleet gave him to vulnerable women who would be susceptible to the gentle manner and easy charms which he used to groom them.
Nadia Baidoo was in love with him. Believed in him. Trusted him.
Did she want to protect him now just like he’d protected her?
‘Do you buy the sleeping pill story?’ Zigic asked.
Ferreira grimaced. ‘I don’t know. It’s really convenient from a self-preservation point of view, but I was surprised she didn’t cover for Sutherland given how she was going on about him.’
‘She didn’t drop him in it either,’ he said. ‘Basically, we can’t charge her with anything and until we find some compelling evidence to place Sutherland at Ainsworth’s house, we can’t charge him either. They’re both safe from us.’
‘But you still think one of them’s responsible, right?’ Ferreira asked, her tone making it clear that she did.
‘I’m not sure the break-in is a motive,’ he admitted, eyeing the names on the board behind her.
Names which they’d drifted away from but hadn’t fully ruled out. The girlfriend, the protestors, all the guards who’d lost their jobs thanks to Joshua Ainsworth.
He felt like they had the right people in custody, that they had most of the pieces they needed to prove guilt, but still that vital something was missing.
Kate Jenkins had been in touch to say she was starting work on Sutherland’s car. There had been some delay getting it released from the car park at Long Fleet, but it was in the station garage now and he knew she would be giving it her fullest attention.
They were well overdue something useful on the forensics front.
‘Do you want anything from the canteen?’ he asked, hauling himself up.
Ferreira shook her head. ‘Oh, actually, some chocolate.’
‘I meant proper food.’
‘And a Coke, please.’
‘You’re going to rot all your teeth right out of your head,’ he told her as he left the office.
Downstairs he got what was going to pass for Mel’s lunch from the machine, grabbed himself a chicken sandwich and a smoothie, thinking about Nadia hiding in the wardrobe as Joshua Ainsworth came up the stairs. Tried to imagine how that had felt, knowing what she’d done to him, how much he must hate her.
And then how Sutherland had felt when she told him about it.
Even without his own selfish motives he would have wanted to protect her, Zigic thought. Assuming Sutherland did love her.
He wasn’t sure he believed that either. Was finding he believed nothing Sutherland said. The man was clearly an arch manipulator. Seemed to have even drawn Ferreira in for a while there and, God knows, she had a cynical streak half a mile wide.
They would have to be careful with him. Go in with a plan and not deviate from it.
Back in the office Ferreira was at Bloom’s desk, both of them standing looking at something on the screen, expressions giving nothing away.
‘Come and see this,’ Ferreira said. ‘Keri, tell him what you’ve been up to.’
‘I just thought I’d check through Sutherland’s record again,’ she said, vaguely apologetic about it.
Because it hadn’t been her job, Zigic thought, and she probably felt like she was stepping on someone’s toes.
‘What did you find?’ he asked.
‘Five days ago we’ve got a ticket on his number plate for jumping a red light in Werrington. So I pulled the image from the camera,’ she said, moving aside so he could see the photo she’d found, blown up on her screen. ‘It’s not brilliantly clear, sorry.’
It wasn’t, but it didn’t need to be. Even with the pixels breaking apart Zigic could see that Patrick Sutherland was in the passenger seat. Nadia Baidoo driving.
‘That changes things a bit,’ he said.
‘Just because she can drive, it doesn’t mean she drove to Ainsworth’s place and killed him.’ Ferreira took her chocolate from his hand and ripped it open. ‘We weren’t ruling her out just because she couldn’t drive.’
‘No, but we were adjusting our likelihoods based quite heavily on the fact that we didn’t think she could get to his house,’ Zigic pointed out.
They’d come a long way in a little over a week, made more progress than he’d expected them to, but the finish line still wasn’t quite in reach.
If anything it felt further away now than it had this morning. The path to it split suddenly. Nadia Baidoo down one lane, Patrick Sutherland the other.
And he didn’t know which way to go.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Sutherland was on his feet when they entered Interview 1, staring up at the high window as the guard in the corner watched him with indifference.
His solicitor, Ben Lawton, sat in the seat against the wall, typing something out on his mobile, thumbs skipping fast across the screen. He made a show of switching it off as they approached the table, and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
‘How’s Nadia?’ Sutherland asked.
‘She’s fine,’ Zigic told him.
‘I hope you haven’t questioned her without a solicitor.’
‘Why would she need a solicitor?’ Zigic asked innocently.
Sutherland spread his hands wide. ‘She’s a vulnerable young woman who’s been grossly mistreated by people in positions of authority.’
‘People?’ Ferreira said. ‘Plural?’
He looked at her, flustered. ‘The whole system. Everything she’s been through. The last police officers she saw snatched her out of her life and locked her up. Do you think being here is going to be easy for her?’
Ferreira sat down at the table and set up the recording equipment, looking at him the whole time, her voice neutral and even when she prompted him to state his name for the record. He said nothing the first time.
‘Dr Sutherland, for the record, please state your name.’
He took a couple of grudging steps towards the table, leaned in. ‘Patrick Sutherland. I don’t know why you’re doing this. I already told you everything I know.’
‘Sit down, Patrick,’ Lawton said in an undertone, so low it seemed that Sutherland didn’t hear him because he retreated from the table again.
Zigic leaned against the wall, wanting to keep Sutherland on his feet. Suspects were always less stable when they were standing; once seated they began to compose themselves, took their time in answering, considered their responses more carefully. So much easier to trip him up like this.
‘We’ve spoken to Nadia,’ he said. ‘And her account of the break-in on Thursday August 2nd doesn’t tally with what you’ve told us.’
‘Perhaps Ms Baidoo’s recollection is flawed,’ Lawton suggested smoothly.
‘I very much doubt she’s misremembering seeing Joshua Ainsworth coming over Patrick’s garden fence and forcing his way into the house.’ Zigic turned back to Sutherland. ‘And I doubt she’s misremembering you losing your temper and saying you’d go and warn Ainsworth to stay away from her.’
‘You only have her word for all of this,’ Lawton said.
‘You’ve lied to us on record, Patrick. This is you
r one and only chance to come clean about what happened between you and Joshua Ainsworth.’
Sutherland exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping as he did it, chin dropping onto his chest. He looked thoroughly beaten, shirt a mess of creases and rumples, sweat-stained under the arms, hair greasy and chaotic, the previously rakish waves now seedily plastered to his skull.
He threw his hands out in a gesture of surrender. ‘I was trying to protect her.’
‘From what?’
‘From herself.’ He drew his head up again, slowly, like it was too heavy for his neck. ‘But I can’t, can I? Not for ever.’ He shoved his fingers back through his hair. ‘She was doing so well. I actually thought she might get over it, given enough time and care. Maybe I was naïve to think I could fix her, but … that’s what love is, isn’t it? Fixing each other.’
It wasn’t, Zigic thought. But of course Sutherland would see it that way, this man who sought out women who were weakened and scared, who would look to him with fear and adoration and meet every small effort he made for them with disproportionate gratitude. It was skin-crawling, seeing how his mind worked.
‘She was getting better,’ Sutherland said, a hint of pride in his voice before his eyes hardened. ‘Then Josh came to the house. He tore the place apart looking for Nadia.’
‘It didn’t look torn apart,’ Zigic said.
‘I cleared everything up. I didn’t want Nadia to have to see a single trace of his presence there.’
‘You missed quite a bit of his blood,’ Zigic told him, letting some of the pleasure he felt show.
Sutherland went on as if he hadn’t spoken.
‘Thank God, she saw him before he saw her and went to hide.’ He shuddered. ‘I don’t even want to think about what he would have done to her if he’d found her.’
