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Authors: James Raven

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BOOK: Rollover
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W
hen Temple got back to the station he told the duty inspector to process Dessler and his crew and put them in the cells until he was ready to begin formal interviews.

‘And let them call their lawyers,’ he said.

He went to the briefing room. It was half-empty. Angel was seated at her desk poring over documents.

‘Have you managed to get Jennifer’s phone log?’ he asked.

She looked up and nodded. ‘Just going through it now, guv.’

‘And?’

‘Well, no joy really. She didn’t receive any calls all day yesterday on her mobile.’

‘Shit.’

Feeling tired and bad tempered, Temple stalked along to his office and helped himself to a couple of painkillers. His head was buzzing and he could feel a gnawing in his stomach. He checked his watch, conscious of the fact that with every minute that passed there was an increased chance that things would not turn out well for Mrs Cain and her daughter.

After a few minutes he was told that Bill Nadelson had arrived. The old man was assigned a duty solicitor named Parker, a tall, thin guy in his thirties. Nadelson looked tired and nervous when he was led into the interview room to face Temple. He started chewing on his
fingernails
and refused the offer of a cup of tea. He was wearing a rumpled white shirt with a frayed collar and looked haggard and stooped.

‘Where have you been today, Mr Nadelson?’

He raked a hand through his thin grey hair. ‘I went to my son’s. I was too upset to stay at my house. What is it I’m supposed to have done? What’s all this about?’

‘I think you know that,’ Temple said.

‘No I don’t. I arrived home and was arrested before I even let myself in. The officers refused to say what it was about.’

And so the grilling began. Temple watched Nadelson’s face as he questioned him about the money and the jewellery that had been found in the suitcase under his bed. His shocked expression was a picture. He bit his bottom lip and furrowed his brow. His face lost colour and he clearly had a problem swallowing.

‘We know it doesn’t belong to you,’ Temple said. ‘We know you took it from Mr Mayo’s house.’

The sheen of fear in Nadelson’s slate-grey eyes was unmistakable. At last he cleared the obstruction in his throat and said, ‘I didn’t kill Vince. I swear. I found him just like I said I did.’

‘But why should we believe you?’ Temple said. ‘You lied to us. You stole the money and jewellery, didn’t you?’

Nadelson drew air through his teeth and clamped his eyes shut. Pearls of sweat popped up above his top lip.

‘I’ve a mind to charge you with murder right now,’ Temple said.

Nadelson opened his eyes, alarm writ large in his expression. He threw a glance at his solicitor, but Parker just shrugged his
shoulders
.

Temple narrowed his eyes at Nadelson, studying his face. ‘I meant what I said. You’re facing a charge of murder. The motive: robbery.’

And that did it. Nadelson started talking. What he’d told them before was all true, he said. He’d seen the dark car speed away from his neighbour’s cottage. He’d gone to investigate. Found the body. Called the police.

‘But when I was in the house I saw the money,’ he said. ‘It was on the worktop in the kitchen. A wedge of twenty-pound notes. I don’t know what came over me. I went back inside and picked it up, put it into my pocket. I thought you would assume that the killer took it. It was a mistake. I know that now.’

Temple leaned forward. ‘And what about the jewellery?’

He crimped his lips and placed his hands flat on the table, palms down.

‘Vince showed me his mother’s jewellery a while ago,’ he said. ‘You see, I’m a retired jeweller. He wanted me to give him a rough valuation. I told him it was worth in total about five thousand pounds. I advised him to put it in a safe-deposit box after he told me he kept it in his bedside drawer and I told him that was foolish.’

‘So you decided to take it along with the cash?’

He nodded. ‘I knew both his parents were dead. I didn’t think anyone would notice.’

Temple angled his head slightly. ‘How do we know that you didn’t kill Mr Mayo to get your hands on the money and the jewellery?’

‘He was dead when I found him,’ he insisted. ‘That’s the truth. I had a moment of weakness. I’m deeply ashamed of myself. But I’m not a killer.’

Temple believed him. All the same, he questioned Nadelson for another fifteen minutes, going over his story in minute detail,
pushing and probing at his explanation and his character. Had he stolen anything before? What had he been going to do with the jewellery?

Nadelson looked a wreck by the time it was over, his face ashen. But that served him right, Temple thought. What he’d done was shameful but what he clearly hadn’t done was kill his neighbour, which meant that the focus of the inquiry remained firmly with Cain.

Shoulders slumped, Temple walked out into the corridor where Angel was waiting to speak to him. She held up a sheet of paper.

‘I was just coming to get you, guv,’ she said. ‘I’ve found
something
.’

‘I hope it’s good,’ Temple said. ‘Because I’m feeling monumentally pissed off just now.’

‘This is a print-out of Jennifer Priest’s mobile phone record.’

‘So? I thought you said she had no calls yesterday.’

‘She didn’t, guv, but I had the feeling that there was something not quite right about the list of calls and a minute ago it came to me.’

‘Well, come on, detective. Don’t keep me in bloody suspense. What is it?’

‘D
on’t fucking move,’ the kidnapper yelled. ‘Just stay where you are.’

Maggie froze. She had been about to rush around the sofa to where Danny was lying on the floor, blood seeping from a gash on the back of his head.

But now her attention was focused on the revolver in the kidnapper’s hand which he had used to beat Danny unconscious. The gun was levelled at her chest and she didn’t doubt that he’d pull
the trigger if she gave him cause. Laura was clinging to her mother’s waist, her fingers digging into the flesh above her belt.

The kidnapper stepped over Danny. He grabbed Laura by the arm and jerked her towards him. Laura gave a startled yelp and tried to hold on to her mother. But her fingers lost their grip and as Maggie attempted to pull her back she found herself staring into the muzzle of the gun.

‘Stop there,’ the man said.

The muzzle was inches from Maggie’s forehead. The man’s hand was shaking. There was a feral anger in his eyes. Maggie felt her blood run cold as he put his hand over Laura’s mouth and pulled her close. Her little girl’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets and she grabbed frantically at his sleeve.

‘Be sensible, Mrs Cain,’ he said. ‘I will hurt her if you don’t do as I say.’

Maggie put up her hands, palms out.

‘Please don’t. You’re scaring her.’

He nodded towards the door.

‘Go and get the cuffs. Bring them to me along with the keys.’

Laura stopped struggling. He took his hand away from her mouth and put his arm around her neck. She was stiff with fear.

‘Mummy,’ she cried, terror distorting her features.

‘Be still, sweetheart,’ Maggie said. ‘I won’t be long.’

Maggie threw a glance at Danny. He was still sprawled on the floor, face up, eyes closed.

‘Do it now,’ the kidnapper yelled.

Maggie had to think about it. Where were the handcuffs? They had taken them off in the loft. She hurried upstairs, ascended the ladder into the loft. She retrieved the two pairs of cuffs, releasing them from the chains that had secured them to the stanchions. When she walked back into the living room she saw that the kidnapper had tied Laura’s hands in front of her with duct tape. She was sitting on the floor just inside the door.

‘Come here,’ he told Maggie.

He put the cuffs on her wrists and ordered her to sit next to Laura. Then he pulled Danny’s hands across his chest and put the other pair
of cuffs on him. He straightened himself and stared down at Danny. Slowly he raised his weapon and aimed it at Danny’s face.

‘I should blow his fucking brains out here and now,’ he snarled through the mask.

‘Please don’t,’ Maggie pleaded. ‘He’s my husband. I love him.’

The kidnapper lifted his head, his dark eyes locking on to hers.

‘Is that a fucking joke?’ he yelled. ‘If you cared about him you wouldn’t have been screwing his partner.’

Maggie felt her heart stop. Her breath snagged in her throat.

‘Don’t act so surprised,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen pictures of you and Mayo at it. You’d been having an affair for months. Shagging behind your husband’s back. And then you have the front to act like the loyal, caring wife.’

Maggie was dumbstruck. How did he know? What was going on?

Then she remembered the man with the camera in the forest.

‘In fact I can let you in on a little secret,’ he said. ‘Those pictures were the reason your boyfriend was killed. And it’s why you and your family are here now. So it follows that you, Mrs Cain, are
ultimately
responsible for all that’s happened. How does that make you feel?’

Maggie’s head started to spin. A pain erupted in her chest. Oh God, she thought, this can’t really be happening. It’s too awful. She turned to Laura. Her daughter was staring at her, wide-eyed and confused. She wanted to say something to her. Anything. But the words wouldn’t come. In that moment Maggie felt ugly and vile and wicked. She didn’t think she could possibly feel any worse.

But she was wrong.

As she wrenched her gaze away from Laura, she looked
instinctively
at Danny, lying on the floor.

His eyes were open and he was looking up at her with a stricken expression on his face.

T
emple went straight to A&E when he got to the hospital. He was told that Jennifer Priest had been moved to a private room on the first floor. He hurried up the stairs. The hospital was busy with scores of people milling around. Visitors. Medical staff. Patients in dressing-gowns, some of them wheeling around intravenous drips.

At the first-floor reception he identified himself to a plump nurse with bleached blond hair.

‘I’m a police officer. You have a patient, Jennifer Priest. Where is she?’

The nurse eyed his card. ‘She’s in a room down the corridor on the left.’

‘I need to speak to her.’

‘I’m not sure that’s possible. I’ll have to page the doctor.’

‘Then do it now.’

As she reached for the phone Temple checked his watch. It was 4.15 p.m. It was almost forty-eight hours since Vince Mayo had been murdered. They were two days into an investigation that had taken more twists and turns than he cared to think about.

A white-coated doctor appeared. He was tall and ungainly with slightly hunched shoulders and untidy brown hair.

Temple asked him how Jennifer was.

‘She’s recovering well,’ the doctor replied. ‘I’m hoping that she’ll be able to go home in about a week. Her injuries looked more serious than they actually are.’

‘I need to talk to her right away,’ Temple said. ‘It’s urgent.’

‘That shouldn’t be a problem as long as she feels up to it.’

‘Shall we find out?’ Temple said.

 

Jennifer Priest was sitting up in bed staring at the ceiling. She was wearing a flimsy hospital gown and looking rather pathetic. There were dark rings under her eyes and her lips were dry and cracked. She stiffened visibly when she saw Temple.

‘Hello, Miss Priest,’ the doctor said. ‘The inspector here would like a word with you. Are you feeling all right?’

She didn’t respond. Instead, she stared at Temple. She was still attached to a drip. There was a bandage around her forehead. Another around her left arm.

After a beat, she said, ‘I want my father. Where’s my father?’

‘He isn’t here,’ the doctor said. ‘But I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Would you like us to try to contact him?’

‘Yes. Yes, I would.’

‘Then I’ll get right on to it and leave you to speak to the officer.’

‘I don’t want to talk to him,’ she said as the doctor turned to go.

‘You don’t have a choice, Miss Priest,’ Temple said. ‘There are some questions I need to ask you.’

Temple looked at the doctor and signalled with his eyes for him to leave the room. The doctor hesitated a moment, then complied, closing the door behind him.

Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed. She’s nervous, Temple thought. And extremely uncomfortable.

‘I won’t keep you long, Miss Priest,’ he said. ‘But it’s really
important
that you clear something up for me.’

She opened her eyes, looked at him. Her mouth was tight and bloodless.

‘If it’s about the accident you should talk to my father,’ she said, her voice croaky. ‘I’ve told him everything I can remember.’

‘It’s not about that,’ Temple said. ‘Although I would like to come to that in a moment.’

‘Then what is it you want? I’m tired and I need to sleep.’

Temple ran his tongue over his teeth and took a deep breath through his nose.

‘You told us that on Saturday evening you were with your father,’ he said. ‘You had dinner with him at his house.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And you were there between about four p.m. and eleven p.m.?’

‘I think so. My father will know the precise times. Why are you asking me again if you already know?’

Temple took the calls print-out from his pocket and held it up.

‘It’s because of this,’ he said. ‘It’s a list of the calls you made on your mobile on Saturday evening. There were two calls, at nine p.m. and ten p.m.’

‘So?’

‘So they were to your father’s home phone. And what I’d like to know is why you called your father from your mobile if you were right there in the house with him? To us it doesn’t make any sense.’

The muscles tensed in her jaw. Temple wondered whether she had a simple, honest answer. She’d popped out to an off licence or a shop and needed to call her father to check something. Or maybe she had been testing her phone. There were any number of bogus reasons she could have come up with, providing she had already agreed it with her father. Which she clearly hadn’t because suddenly her face collapsed in anguish.

‘I told him we shouldn’t do it,’ she shrieked. ‘I knew we’d be found out. Oh dear God, I’m so sorry.’

Her shoulders heaved and she started to cry. Temple felt a rush of heat flare across his skin. He leaned forward, rested his hand on Jennifer’s shoulder, waited for her to calm down a little. It took a minute or so. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.’

Temple kept his voice low, gentle. ‘Start at the beginning, Miss Priest. Tell me what it is you did and why.’

BOOK: Rollover
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