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‘As soon as Featherstone authorizes it. I put in a request first thing this morning.’
‘Rather him than me,’ Donnelly said, thinking of the reams of paperwork Detective Superintendent Featherstone would have to complete before surveillance could begin.
Hellier looked confident. He was with another man who carried a briefcase.
‘I fucking knew he’d bring his brief,’ said Sean.
‘That’ll be one expensive mouthpiece,’ Donnelly replied as they watched Hellier and his solicitor enter the station.
‘We’ll give it a few minutes,’ Sean said. ‘Let them get a bit pissed off. Then we’ll go see them. See if we can’t rattle his cage.’
‘Aye,’ Donnelly agreed.
‘Any luck with criminal records?’
‘No. Nothing on criminal records or the intelligence system. He appears clean.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘Maybe he’s had an identity change,’ Donnelly suggested.
‘Wouldn’t surprise me. A set of his prints will soon answer that.’
‘Shall we dance?’
‘Why not?’ They climbed from their car and headed after Hellier.
Sean and Donnelly sat across the table from Hellier and his solicitor, Jonathon Templeman, in the witness interview room.
Templeman spoke first. ‘Inspector, my client has a right to know why he has been asked to come here today.’
Sean smiled. ‘You make it sound as if Mr Hellier is a suspect.’
‘It feels as if he’s being treated like one. Asked to come to a police station. Of course my client wishes to cooperate, but his rights must be respected. If he is a suspect then he needs to be informed.’
‘Mr Hellier is not a suspect,’ Sean told him. ‘That’s why we’re in the witness room, not an interview room. If Mr Hellier was a suspect, he’d have been arrested by now.’
Sean knew the solicitor didn’t believe a word he was saying. He would have realized the police suspected his client was involved in the murder of Daniel Graydon and he would do all he could to protect Hellier, but he wouldn’t want to force Sean’s hand. Wouldn’t want to precipitate Hellier’s arrest.
‘I don’t know how much your client has told you, Mr …’ Sean looked at the business card the solicitor had handed him ‘… Mr Templeman, but from my initial conversation with Mr Hellier I know he had sexual relations with a young man who was found murdered some days later.’
‘My client’s sexual orientation is not an issue here,’ Templeman intervened. ‘It’s no longer illegal to be gay, Inspector.’ He was being deliberately provocative. He knew the best way to defend a client, whether they were guilty or not, was to be aggressive towards the investigating officers. Show no signs of cooperation. Never be civil. Always attack.
‘Mr Templeman,’ Sean said, ‘I have no interest in Mr Hellier’s sexuality. What I do care about is that a young man has been murdered. Mr Hellier is an important witness. Possibly the best I have. I need a full witness statement and full forensic samples for elimination purposes. And his fingerprints.’
‘A witness statement is out of the question.’ Templeman still spoke for Hellier. ‘The body samples we agree to. We understand the need to eliminate my client from the investigation as quickly as possible.’
Donnelly joined in. ‘This isn’t a shoplifting we’re investigating. This is a murder inquiry. Mr Hellier will give a full written statement and he’ll do it today.’ His voice was calm.
‘My client has not witnessed any offences in relation to the death of Mr Graydon. He can provide no useful information, therefore he will not be providing a witness statement. Such a statement would be of no use to the police, yet it could be both embarrassing and damaging to my client.’
‘Embarrassing?’ Donnelly said. ‘I don’t care how embarrassing it could be. Maybe you would like to meet the boy’s parents. You could explain to them how your client is more concerned about being embarrassed than he is about helping to find their son’s killer.’
‘No statement.’
Sean knew Templeman meant it. ‘I’ll have Mr Hellier summonsed to court to give evidence if necessary.’
‘Then that’s what you’ll have to do, Inspector.’
‘Fine,’ Sean said. There was more than one way to skin a cat, but why wouldn’t Hellier make a statement? Sean didn’t believe the bullshit about public embarrassment. Hellier didn’t want to say anything the police could prove was a lie. Best to keep his mouth shut. Hide behind his expensive solicitor.
‘So, no statement,’ Sean said. ‘Samples, you agree to?’ He was looking directly at Hellier, who remained dumb.
‘I’ve already said we agree to body samples,’ Templeman informed him.
‘And fingerprints. For elimination purposes.’ Sean waited for the answer, hoping he sounded casual enough.
‘Why do you need my client’s fingerprints?’ Templeman asked. ‘I thought Mr Hellier had made it quite clear that he’d never been in the victim’s flat. Unless you found prints on the body, which is most unlikely, I don’t see why you would want my client’s fingerprints for elimination.’
Sean spoke quickly. A delay would have alerted Templeman and probably, maybe more so, Hellier. ‘Not on his body. On some cash we found in his pocket,’ he lied. ‘Your client paid for sex. So unless he used a credit card, the cash could be Mr Hellier’s. It’s already been chemically treated and we’ve been able to recover a number of prints. If the prints aren’t your client’s, then they could be the killer’s.’
‘Very well,’ Templeman said. ‘My client is prepared to provide a set of elimination prints.’
Hellier nodded his agreement to provide his fingerprints.
‘Good.’ Sean called a young detective constable into the room. ‘This is DC Zukov. He’ll take you to the surgeon’s room where a doctor will take your body samples, then he’ll take your prints. Understand?’
Hellier didn’t reply.
‘I need a full set, Paulo,’ Sean told DC Zukov. ‘Palms and fingertips too. And the side of his hands.’
Zukov nodded and looked at Hellier. ‘If you’d like to come this way, sir.’
Templeman and Hellier followed DC Zukov from the room. Donnelly made sure they were out of earshot.
‘That was a bit of a porky-pie, boss. We don’t have any fingerprints on any cash that I know of. Could cause us problems if anyone discovers we tricked our suspect into giving his prints – like the CPS, for example.’
Sean wasn’t concerned. ‘Fuck ’em. I’ll cross that bridge when and if I come to it. Right now, I want his prints in case we get lucky at the scene.’
‘He seems pretty confident he’s never been inside Graydon’s flat,’ Donnelly reminded him.
‘Yeah, but we only need him to have made one mistake, just one mistake and we’ll be able to put him in the flat, and then I’ll have him.’
‘You’re sure it’s him, aren’t you?’
‘I don’t know. The more I see him, the more I’m next to him, the more sure I am he’s hiding something. But it’s almost as if this is a game to him – as if he’s somehow enjoying it. I don’t know, but there’s something …’ Sean didn’t finish his thought.
‘Maybe you just really want it to be him?’ Donnelly argued. ‘Maybe you just don’t like the smug bastard with his expensive brief.’
‘No,’ Sean answered quietly without looking at Donnelly. ‘I can feel his guilt.’
‘Guilt, aye,’ Donnelly agreed. ‘But guilt for the death of Daniel Graydon?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sean admitted, ‘but I’ve got a very strong feeling James Hellier and I are going to cross swords again, and soon.’
9
James Hellier left Belgravia police station two hours later, only slightly annoyed at being kept longer than necessary. Feeling pleased with himself, he indulged in a little smile. He hoped his solicitor hadn’t noticed.
They walked along the road a short way. Hellier felt certain he was being followed by the police. No matter. No need to tell Templeman. No need to tell anyone.
So the police had samples from his body. The detective constable had made sure the doctor was thorough: blood, saliva, semen, hair of various types. All for elimination purposes. All taken voluntarily. The detective had had a strange name. Paulo Zukov. Hellier had been tempted to ask him if he was more wop than Slav, or the other way around. He had managed not to.
Hellier and Templeman shook hands and went their separate ways. Templeman clearly had no notion that Hellier might be anything other than an innocent man dragged into somebody else’s mess. God bless lawyers. They pump them full of some serious self-importance bullshit in law school. They all think they’re in a John Grisham novel, protecting the innocent from their oppressors.
They’d taken his fingerprints too. He’d known Corrigan was lying about finding prints on the victim’s money, even if his solicitor had not. It was unfortunate he had to give them, but he had foreseen it. It wouldn’t be a problem. It mustn’t be a problem. It wasn’t.
Sean and Donnelly watched Hellier leave the same way they’d watched him arrive. They watched him shake hands with Templeman and move off. Hellier looked over his shoulder back towards them and walked on.
Donnelly broke the silence. ‘He thinks we’re following him.’
‘Not yet, we’re not,’ Sean replied. ‘I just got a message from Featherstone – surveillance starts tomorrow. What about the other men the victim had sex with? Have we spoken to all of them now?’
‘We have. They came forward of their own accord. They’re not happy about admitting to paying for sex, but not exactly ashamed either.’
‘Not like Hellier,’ Sean stated rather than asked.
‘No. The others seem straightforward. They’ve provided statements, prints and samples, no problem. None of the lads who interviewed them get any sort of feeling. We’ll run them all through the system anyway, but no one looks interesting.’
‘Any sign of a boyfriend?’ Sean asked. ‘No matter what I think of Hellier, I still have to consider that possibility.’
‘According to his friends, there was no boyfriend, now or in the recent past, other than the possibility he was seeing our missing barman, Jonnie Dempsey.’
‘And further back? No jilted John with an axe to grind?’
‘Apparently not. It appears Daniel was more careful with his private life than he was with his business one.’
‘Anything else?’ Sean asked.
‘I took the liberty of sending out a national circular, asking if other forces have come across any murders similar to ours.’
‘And?’
‘And nothing. Our little shop of horrors appears to be unique.’
‘So,’ Sean said, ‘Hellier’s still our main man. Until I say different.’ Donnelly opened the car door unexpectedly. ‘Going somewhere nice?’
‘I just want to check on Paulo. Make sure everything went okay.’
‘Don’t worry about Paulo. He knows what he’s doing.’ Sean trusted Paulo. He trusted all his team.
‘All the same. I’ll not sleep tonight if I don’t check.’
Sean wasn’t used to seeing Donnelly so concerned. ‘Okay, check. I’ll wait here. And ask him if he needs a lift.’
Donnelly was gone. Sean watched him running across the road, dodging the traffic. He moved pretty well for a big man.
DC Zukov waited for Donnelly in the basement toilet of Belgravia police station. He was relieved to finally see Donnelly’s considerable frame enter, shrinking the room. Donnelly stopped in front of the large mirror and began to comb his scruffy salt-and-pepper hair with his hands.
‘There’s no one else in here. We’re fine,’ Zukov assured him.
‘Then why you fucking whispering?’
Zukov spoke normally. ‘I don’t know. It’s just I’m not used to talking to strange men in public toilets.’
‘I hope not, young man.’ In an instant Donnelly’s tone became more serious. ‘Did you get what I asked?’
Zukov smiled. He put his hand in his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a small plastic evidence bag containing two hairs that only minutes earlier had been plucked from Hellier’s scalp. He handed it to Donnelly, who snatched it away. ‘I take it the official samples have been sealed accordingly?’ he asked.
‘As you requested,’ Zukov told him. ‘Everything’s been bagged and tagged properly. These are the little extras you wanted kept off the books.’
‘Good.’ Donnelly opened an empty metal cigarette case and folded the bag carefully, making sure he didn’t bend the contents. He put the bag in the case and snapped it shut. He tucked it into his blazer pocket and patted it. ‘Just to be on the safe side. You never know when you’re gonna need a helping hand.’
‘You gonna leave them in Graydon’s place to be found by the forensic boys or you got some other idea how to use them?’ Zukov asked.
‘I’m not going to do anything with them,’ said Donnelly. ‘Not yet anyway.’
‘Why? What you waiting for?’
Donnelly puffed out his chest and raised himself to his full height. ‘Listen up, son. These are the three rules of life according to Dave Donnelly: Number one – never accept a bribe, no matter how skint you are. Number two – never fit up an innocent member of the public. Villains, fine, but never Joe Public. Number three – never, absolutely never, fit anyone up for murder unless you’re absolutely positive they did it and it’s absolutely necessary to get them off the streets. Understand?’
‘So you’re not positive Hellier’s our man?’
‘No. Not yet. He’s not our only suspect either, remember? Now drop this lot off at the lab before it closes, then run his fingerprints up to the Yard. The guv’nor wants them compared to marks from the scene tout suite, so don’t take no for an answer. Understand?’
‘Not a problem,’ Zukov replied. ‘And what will you be up to?’
Donnelly looked him up and down before answering. ‘Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I thought I’d head back to the nick with the guv’nor, see if I can’t find out what’s going on in that head of his.’
‘Problems?’ Zukov asked.
‘I’m not sure yet. Let’s just say I get the feeling the man’s not telling me everything he knows.’
At about 5 p.m. Sean was back at his desk ploughing through emails and paperwork, oblivious to the chatter and ringing phones in the incident room. A detective constable whom everyone called Bruce knocked on his door frame, somewhat startling him.
‘Fingerprints returning your call, guv’nor,’ he said without enthusiasm, but Sean felt his heart jump and his stomach sink. He crossed the office and took the phone.
‘DI Corrigan speaking. You can give the results to me.’
