Had he deliberately left it until last, until she thought it was almost over? When she looked directly back at him, she had no doubt.
He continued, ‘It looks as if you lied to us, Marjorie, or at the very least, as if you failed to tell us something that was clearly pertinent, as some of us like to say, to our investigations. When I mentioned that name to you on Wednesday, you remembered it, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank you. Just so you know, it isn’t a criminal offence to lie to the police unless you do so knowingly, with the intention of obstructing an investigation. I don’t think that you did that. I think you did it because Mr Williams was only in the next room when we talked and he could probably hear what we were saying. If you had answered yes, you’d then have to admit that you opened the door on the Saturday night when he had asked you not to do so. You didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Mr Williams for obvious reasons, him being your boss, and you living under the same roof.’
Marjorie was staring at him as if he had just told her the name of her first pet cat, and that her favourite chocolate bar was a toffee-crisp.
‘And also, maybe, because Mr Williams has a bit of a temper on him, doesn’t he?’
She never said a word in answer to that, or moved a muscle.
After a few more seconds, Smith turned to Detective Constable Butler and said, ‘You’d better make that phone call now.’
Chapter Twenty Six
‘Let him stew for a bit longer,’ Smith had said.
All four of them watched the Welshman on the video screen. He was restless and couldn’t sit still for long. He muttered a couple of inaudible things to the uniformed man standing in the corner, and looked up into the camera several times, so he knew full well that people were observing him.
Terek said, ‘You were right to suggest pulling him in. The further away we got from the pub, the more edgy he became. He’s going on about there being no-one left to open up the pub, and missing the lunchtime trade. He wants to know if he can claim compensation.’
Smith turned away from the monitor and said, ‘Did he ask why you’d gone back for him? How long between when you left the pub and then went back to invite him over to Kings Lake?’
Waters answered – ‘It was about a quarter of an hour. We talked over what he’d said, which was basically nothing new at all, and had been driving for five minutes when we got Serena’s call.’
‘What reason did you give him for changing the plan?’
‘That there had been a new development, and we needed to speak to him at greater length.’
Then they were all watching the monitor again, and the number in the corner of it was ticking the seconds away – it was 11.09. Smith knew what he wanted to do but it had to be the detective inspector’s call, now that he was in the room.
Terek said, ‘I don’t think he’s stupid. He’ll have worked out that the new development has something to do with us bringing in Marjorie Harris a couple of hours ago.’
Serena Butler said, ‘I agree. We need to think about her position now.’
‘Her safety?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Right. After we’ve spoken to him, I’d like you to bring that up with her, on the record, just in case… So we need to keep her here until we’re done with him, one way or another. Of course, if we arrest him, it might not be an immediate problem.’
Smith was still watching Williams on the monitor but Terek saw the shake of the head.
‘You don’t think we’ll arrest him?’
‘Not today – not unless he starts singing. Do Welsh canaries sing with a Welsh accent, by the way? Just a thought… No, he’ll come up with some story about why he went out that night. We’ve got some evidence that Sokoloff got at least as far as the car park of The Queens Arms that night but it’s circumstantial. Even if we can triangulate the call he made to the RAC, it won’t give us a pin-point location, will it?’
It was Waters’ turn to shake his head.
Smith said, ‘Unless we can put Sokoloff inside the pub at some point, we don’t have enough. But we should certainly give him a good going over while he’s here, sir.’
‘A good going over? You mean we should interview him?’
‘Absolutely, sir. I was speaking metaphorically. It means that we should interview Mr Williams vigorously.’
Terek looked around at the two detective constables in his peering fashion, over the top of his spectacles. For a relatively young man, he had some odd mannerisms.
‘We will do so, then. You and I, DC – as you’ve just been interviewing Ms Harris and I haven’t seen the recording yet. Serena, look after her, please. And it might be an idea to let her know that her employer is now being interviewed. See how she reacts to that.’
‘Alright. It was a woman, see. I went off to visit this woman I knows.’
Detective Inspector Terek’s choice of play had been to lay out most of his hand before the serious questioning began. He had told Williams that the man called Sokoloff, the man whose body had been found in the water at Barnham Staithe last Monday, had made a phone call from the car park of The Queens Arms on Saturday night, a matter of hours before he had died – they, the police, had proof of this now. That they did not, categorically, was neither here nor there; Smith had told much bigger fibs in interviews many times before, but he would not have given Williams this much information so early on. He watched and listened with interest to see how things would go.
Terek said, ‘We are going to need the name of this person, Mr Williams, just to verify what you have told us.’
The manager of The Queens Arms was shaking his head as he responded.
‘I don’t think so. Drop her right in it, that would. You can forget that idea.’
‘Mr Williams, whilst you are here voluntarily, we-’
‘That what you call it? Voluntarily? OK, I didn’t ‘ave cuffs on. But I didn’t feel much like a volunteer either, being carted off like that in front of customers, I can tell you. Helpin’ with enquiries is what you said, and here I am. But I ain’t going to be dropping anyone else in it, when I got nothin’ to hide.’
The usual form of non-cooperation is silence but occasionally you get a noisy one, and it looked as if Mr Williams could bluster for Wales. Was Terek a little taken aback? It was difficult to say, but Smith, who had remained silent up to now, could no longer resist temptation.
‘Sir, Mr Williams is quite correct – he is here in a voluntary capacity. There is no question of his being charged with an offence at this point. Can I make a suggestion that might enable us to move forward?’
Terek was giving him the over-the-spectacles gaze.
‘Yes, sergeant. What is it?’
Smith turned to Williams.
‘I’m going to venture a guess that the lady Mr Williams went to see is married, and not to him. Mr Williams is prepared to sacrifice himself to defend her reputation.’
Williams had a heavy, low brow, the kind that slopes backwards a little, and long ago an Italian scientist had put forward the theory that this was one of the signs of a criminal personality – along with the other key feature of such men, that their eyes would be closer together than most. Williams’ eyes were indeed a little that way inclined, and now they were narrowed and glaring directly at the small but highly annoying figure of the detective sergeant who had somehow reached across the table and turned over one of his opponent’s cards, smiling helpfully as he did so.
The detective inspector said, ‘Is that the case, Mr Williams?’
‘As it ’appens, it is.’
‘I see.’
Williams was still glaring and Smith was still smiling.
Terek said, ‘I cannot guarantee that at some point it will not be in your interest, nevertheless, to tell us the name of this unfortunate woman.’
Smith’s smile became momentarily a little broader – that was rather good from the inspector. Then he nodded his agreement more enthusiastically than str
ictly necessary, entirely for Mr Williams’ benefit.
‘Not ’appenin’, I told you.’
Smith said, ‘You shouldn’t rule anything out, sir. What I mean is, no-one knows exactly what you’re going to be charged with at this stage, do they? If it’s something serious, you might want to re-visit your situation as far as this lady is concerned. This is only a preliminary inves-’
‘Charged? What are you talking about, man? You sayin’ I’m going to be charged? What the hell with?’
Smith glanced at Terek, his expression one of surprise mingled with a little apology, before he said to Williams, ‘What with, sir? I’m sorry – haven’t we made it clear to you? This is a murder investigation.’
The use of that word had quietened Mr Williams a little. Terek took over again, and went back to the beginning of it all. Had Williams ever seen the man in the photographs – showed to him again – and had he ever heard the man’s name before Detective Sergeant Smith uttered it in The Queens Arms last Wednesday lunchtime? Could he explain why Bernard Sokoloff had reported that his tyres had been slashed last Saturday night in that car park, the car park of the pub that Mr Williams managed for his aunt, when he, Mr Williams, seemed to have no knowledge of the matter? Had he seen any such person or vehicle in the car park when he left for his midnight assignation?
No, simply ‘No’ now, with no elaboration, no more protest. After some minutes, the detective inspector handed over to his sergeant, and Williams bristled. He was not a fool but it’s one thing to know when you are being needled and quite another not to react in some way when it’s happening.
‘Lots of ‘No’s’ there, sir. Nice and straightforward, thank you. I do have one other question, based on what Marjorie Harris has told us. When you left her to clear up last Saturday, after a not-very-busy evening, you told her to lock up as soon as you’d gone, and not to answer the door to anyone. Is that correct? Is that what you said?’
‘More or less.’
‘“More or less”? Some people would see that as an evasive answer, Mr Williams, but I’m just going to accept that you cannot remember your exact words. I’m more interested in why you said such a thing in the first place. Why did you tell Miss Harris not to open the door to anyone?’
Something had made Williams more cautious, and he did not answer immediately. Was it the repeated mentions of the fact that Marjorie Harris had already been interviewed? Was Williams wondering what else she might have told them? Was there more that she could have told them and had not – was that what Williams was worrying about? It can all become very complicated and three-dimensional, the interviewing game. Smith had been fascinated by it from the very beginning, more than thirty years ago, and now, facing Mark Williams, he had the sense that he was playing it for what might well be the final time.
‘I was leaving a couple of women in the pub, I knew that, so I was just being careful. You don’t know who’s hanging about, do you?’
Smith was looking directly back at Williams, and not answering him immediately.
‘Well, in this case you would seem to be correct, sir, in that you didn’t know who was hanging about. You didn’t know that Bernard Sokoloff was in your car park that evening, and you didn’t know that he had had the tyres on his motor slashed. All this was happening on the other side of the door that evening and you knew nothing about any of it.’
‘I did not.’
‘But, sir,’ – and this time the “sir” was addressed to Detective Inspector Terek – ‘what I really cannot understand is why a man in Mr Sokoloff’s situation would not have gone into the pub once he had seen the damage done to his car, even if he had not been in the pub beforehand. Why, after reporting it, would he stay outside the building instead of going in and asking for assistance or maybe just a drink while he waited? You could almost say, sir, that it beggars belief.’
Terek said, ‘When you put it like that, sergeant, it’s difficult to disagree.’
Now they were both watching the manager of the pub that had mysteriously not been gone into, and waiting.
Williams said, ‘Well, I can only tell you what ’appened, can’t I?’
Smith said, ‘No, that’s not the case – you could choose not to tell us what happened, and I think that’s what you’ve done.’
Williams had no criminal record, and with his next answer, Smith wondered whether the Welshman had missed his true vocation.
‘Well, you think what you bloody like, man. ’S your word against mine, less you got some evidence!’
Smith had a way of looking disconcertingly pleased when he received responses like that one, as if he had just been complimented on his perspicacity or his choice of after-shave, or both.
He said, ‘We do have some, Mr Williams, but I’ll be the first to admit that it isn’t enough, yet. Every little helps – even this interview has helped a bit. Real police work isn’t anything like on the telly, you can see that for yourself now. It’s mostly this laborious, repetitive questioning, and painstakingly going over heaps of mostly useless information, praying you don’t miss the one thing that will clinch a prosecution…’
Smith had become somewhat philosophical in tone, and DI Terek had turned in his seat to follow what he was saying – it’s impossible to guess what Mark Williams was thinking at that moment.
‘…but anyway. Do you play chess, Mr Williams?’
A shake of the head.
‘I used to, years ago. I wasn’t very good, but I do find the game a rich source of metaphors. The reason I mention it is this; your story would be more convincing if you were able to say to us that of course this bloke Sokoloff had been in your pub that evening, and someone, for reasons unknown, had done his car over outside. But you can’t say that because last Wednesday you denied you’d ever seen or heard of him – that was you poking a pawn forward without thinking far enough ahead. Or maybe you did, and you decided to gamble that we wouldn’t find out about the call to the RAC… Either way, because you said that on Wednesday, what you’re now telling us on Friday looks increasingly unbelievable. But you can’t go back in chess and change earlier moves. That pawn is now pinned against your queen, so to speak. If I was a betting man, Mr Williams, I’d say it’s going to cost you the game.’
The close-set eyes stared at Smith for some seconds before they turned to Terek. Then Williams said, ‘You – you’re the boss here, aren’t you? Can’t you shut ’im up? He’s talking bloody nonsense, man.’
Smith said, as if he hadn’t heard the appeal to Terek, ‘Of course, I see your dilemma. If you had said that Sokoloff had been to The Queens Arms – at least twice, I’m sure of that – you’d need to explain to us what his business there was. And you’d also need to explain why those two characters were giving you grief about him when DC Waters arrived, and why they tried to burn down your pub -’
‘Christ, man! I said can’t you shut ’im up? If you can’t, I’ll do it for you!’
Williams placed both hands on the table and half-raised himself up and towards the two detectives. Terek made a similar move, while Smith sat perfectly still, not taking his eyes from the looming figure of the angry man as he continued to speak.
‘- except that I don’t think they were really trying to burn you out or even to kill you, Mr Williams. The report we’ve had from the fire service forensics people this morning says that a small amount of an accelerant, probably just petrol, was poured in and set alight. A very primitive attempt at arson, but it was only meant as a warning, wasn’t it?’
Terek was fully on his feet now, telling Williams to sit down. When he had done so, still under the fixed gaze of the detective sergeant, Terek said that they would take a short break, and he asked Smith out into the corridor.
‘DC, tell me – is that how you usually interview a witness?’
‘No, sir. It’s different every time.’
The detective inspector pushed the spectacles back to where they had no intention of remaining, and ran the fingers of one hand back thro
ugh his slightly sandy-coloured hair. Hair that is, thought, Smith, a little longer than it needs to be; perhaps he’s hiding something, an early bald spot, maybe.
‘Oh, good. Because it seemed rather aggressive to me. I know you are concerned about the register of guests there, but there really isn’t much else, is there? Not enough to justify aggravating him like that, in my opinion.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind, sir. But he stopped being a witness for me as soon as someone set fire to his back door – as far as I’m concerned, he became a person of interest, then. Also, in my experience, if you let people think that you have more evidence than you do, they often end up handing you more intelligence than you might have expected.’
The detective inspector made a show of at least considering what Smith had said before he answered, ‘A person of interest – I can see that. But a suspect? We have no conceivable motive for Mark Williams to have attacked Bernard Sokoloff.’
On the contrary, Smith thought, as they made their way back into the interview room, I can conceive of many reasons why a man like Williams had attacked a man like Sokoloff, an almost infinite number, I just don’t have anywhere to start, at present… But it’s there, at The Queens Arms, something, anything, a little odd, out of place or different. Something, or someone.
Terek took over the interview, and asked a lot of sensible questions about who owned what sorts of vehicle at the pub, and how often the police had been contacted in the previous year, and even whether the fire damage had been covered by the buildings insurance. Williams answered them plainly enough but time and again his eyes went back to the detective sergeant who sat there looking at him, and who said nothing more.
Time and Tide: A DC Smith Investigation Page 24
