Peter Lovesey - The Headhunters

She called the incident room and asked for Stella. Instead she got Sergeant Murphy. He reminded her that Stella was out at Apuldram searching Cartwright’s house.

‘Who else is with you?’

‘It’s Sunday morning, guv. We’re down to three.’

She got on to Emsworth and asked for some of that cross-border co-operation. They agreed to send a car to the Millpond to arrest Francisco on suspicion of stealing a vehicle. They would deliver him to Chichester for questioning.

‘What’s my thinking here?’ she asked Gary to see how he was shaping up as a member of CID.

‘We let Francisco get the idea it’s only the car theft we’re interested in and catch him off guard?’

‘You can do better than that.’

‘We can get a sample of his DNA?’

‘We’ll do that, yes, but it isn’t what I’m driving at.’

He scratched his head. ‘I’m not at my sharpest today, guv. I got to bed quite late.’

‘Blaming me, are you? Didn’t you ever read PACE when you were in uniform? When you arrest someone for a serious offence you can enter and search his house without a warrant.’

‘Oh, I knew that.’

‘But you didn’t say, did you? Get with it, Gary.’

Leaving two uniformed officers to remain with the car until the forensic unit turned up, she drove back to Chichester and had a canteen breakfast.

Francisco was already slumped in a chair in Interview Room Two looking as if he needed an Alka Seltzer. Hen and Gary sat opposite. After the preliminaries were spoken, Hen said, ‘You know what you’re here for?’

‘No.’ He was trying to stare her out.

‘It was explained to you when you were arrested. You’re under suspicion of stealing a vehicle. Where did you go last evening?’

‘Jongleurs.’

‘Come again?’

Gary said, ‘It’s that nightclub in Portsmouth, guv, Gun Wharf Quay.’

‘You’re telling us you were in Portsmouth?’ she asked Francisco, making clear her disbelief.

‘My job, isn’t it? Security.’

‘We know about that. What hours do you work?’

‘Eight till two-thirty.’

‘You were never in Portsmouth at eight last night.’

He shrugged. ‘I may have gone in later.’

‘Cut the crap, Francisco. You were driving round the lanes of Chidham between nine and ten. We were following you.’

Trying to appear cool, he leaned back in the chair with his hands behind his neck. ‘What for?’

‘Let’s spell it out, then. We found Fiona’s car in the field at Chidham this morning. You led us there. Forensics are testing for traces of DNA and prints. When we compare them with the samples you’ve given and checked the tyreprints of your Land Rover, I fully expect to be charging you. I wouldn’t try bluffing if I were you. Science has overtaken all that. Follow me now?’

‘No.’

‘Come on, Francisco. You stole her Xsara Picasso and left it under a cover in a field after removing the plates and licence. You’re her neighbour and she trusted you with a key to her house. You let yourself in and took away the paperwork, all evidence that she ever possessed the car. I’m sure your plan was to wait a few weeks and then get a respray and sell it on.’

‘You’re talking bollocks.’

She ignored that. ‘When the tests results are in, we’ll charge you. Then we move to the next stage, proving you murdered her by drowning.’

He sneered. ‘Lady, you couldn’t be more bloody wrong. Some other person killed her.’

‘You had the motive,’ Hen said. ‘You wanted that car. You live at the scene of the crime, where the body was found. You’re a professional, licensed bullyboy. No problem for a man of your strength drowning a woman. You thought it would be taken for an accident, but it wasn’t. We found the marks on her neck. You’re in deep shit, my friend.’

Francisco altered his posture, sitting forward, elbows on the table. At last he seemed to understand how serious this was. ‘Look, I helped you guys. I called the police when that bird came knocking at my door.’

‘You reported she was missing, yes, playing the part of the good neighbour. It’s amazing how often the person who reports the crime turns out to be the perpetrator.’

He frowned.

‘Killer,’ Hen said.

‘This is so wrong.’

Hen glanced towards Gary as if in two minds. ‘Maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves.’

Gary shrugged. ‘You said you’d spell it out, ma’am.’

‘So I did.’

Gary was making up for earlier failings. He added, ‘You believe in telling it like it is.’

‘So right, but we’ll take it in stages. Step one: We need to prove Francisco nicked the car.’

‘Everything follows from that,’ Gary said.

‘Hang about,’ Francisco said. ‘Just because I took the car doesn’t mean I killed Fiona.’

‘You admit to the car theft?’ Hen said, saw his reaction and said for the tape, ‘The witness nods. We’re getting somewhere, then. You took it why?’

‘She didn’t need it no more.’

‘You decided it was up for grabs?’

‘Something like that.’

‘You thought no one would notice if her car disappeared? That takes some believing.’

He opened his hands as if he didn’t care what they believed.

Hen said, ‘All right. Let’s run with that for a moment, unlikely as it seems. You took the paperwork for the car as well? You had the key and let yourself into the house and raided the filing cabinet?’

He gave an exaggerated yawn.

She spoke to Gary again. ‘It does suggest he thought he’d get away with car theft.’

Gary had heard the cautious note and gave only a slight nod.

‘On the other hand,’ Hen went on, ‘he may have wanted to throw suspicion on someone else for the murder of Fiona.’

‘How would he do that?’ Gary asked as Francisco looked from one to the other.

‘Well, his first line of defence was that she drowned accidentally. But just in case that wasn’t believed and we discovered she was murdered, he thought if he removed the car from the scene we would mistakenly assume her killer drove off in it, thus deflecting suspicion from himself, the man living next door.’

‘Wicked,’ Gary said.

‘You say I killed her? No way.’ Francisco flapped his hand as if swatting a fly.

‘Somebody did,’ Hen said. ‘Did you fancy her, Francisco?’

‘Per-lease.’

‘You disliked her, then? A bad neighbour? Was she giving you trouble?’

‘No.’

‘It’s easy to see how disputes arise. Loud music late at night getting on your nerves. Well, I guess it couldn’t be that because you’re used to loud music late at night. It’s your job. You’re not around most nights. Perhaps it was the reverse. She objected to you coming home in the small hours, banging doors and waking her up. She kept complaining. Drove you round the twist. Is that the truth of it?’

‘Are you trying to say I’m mental?’

‘Not at all. Angry. Violent. But for a reason.’

‘Fuck off, will you?’

‘We’re about to,’ Hen said smoothly. A delay would be useful. This had gone as far as it could for the present. If Francisco was the killer, there would be more to throw at him after his house was searched.

Hen stood. ‘I’m keeping you under arrest. When we brought you in for questioning it was in connection with the theft of a vehicle. You’re now under suspicion of murder.’

‘ Do you reckon Francisco slept with Fiona?’ Hen asked Gary.

Gary weighed the question for a moment before shaking his head.

‘Or wanted to?’

He answered with a smile and a shrug that said he wasn’t a mind-reader.

‘They were on close terms,’ Hen pointed out. ‘Must have been if she gave him a key.’