Authors: Cath Staincliffe
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Crime
‘The door wasn’t locked?’
‘Padlock’s long gone.’ More voluble now.
‘Had you been there before?’ Janet said.
He hesitated.
Why?
‘Yes.’
‘Why was that?’ Janet said.
‘To get some stuff.’
‘You mean drugs?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Who did you get the drugs from?’
‘The nignogs.’
‘Are you referring to the victims, Lydia Oluwaseyi and Victor Tosin?’
‘Yeah,’ he said.
‘On Friday you went in the warehouse door, then what?’ Janet said.
‘Shot ’em, like I said.’ He rolled his shoulders back, twisted his head to and fro as though he was tired of the situation.
‘Whereabouts were they?’ Janet said.
‘Just inside. That was their squat.’
‘Whereabouts in the space?’ she persisted.
‘Just there,’ he said.
‘Standing, walking, sitting?’
He seemed unsure. ‘Standing.’
Janet didn’t miss a step. ‘Who did you shoot first?’
‘The bloke.’
‘Victor. Where was he?’
‘In the place, I told you.’
‘Was he sitting or standing when you shot him?’
‘Standing,’ he said.
‘Where did you hit him?’ she said.
‘In the chest.’ He banged a fist on his own breastbone.
‘How many times?’
‘Once.’
‘Then what?’
‘I did her.’
‘Lydia, where was she?’
He started to shrug then gave another sickly grin. ‘Trying to get away.’
‘You shot her how many times?’
‘Don’t remember,’ he said.
‘Try and remember,’ Janet said.
‘Once, in the back.’
‘What happened next?’
‘I poured the petrol on them, lit it up.’
Janet nodded though her mind was racing, trying to work out how what she was hearing fitted with the facts. Or didn’t. ‘And after that?’
‘Went home.’ He shuffled in his seat, rubbed his hand on his forearm where the fancy lettering spelled out the infamous quotes from Hitler’s bible.
‘Did anyone see you arrive home?’ Janet said.
‘Mum was out.’
‘What about Neil?’
‘Dunno,’ he said.
‘He wasn’t involved?’ Janet said.
‘No comment.’
‘Where’s the gun now?’
He fell silent.
‘Don’t you know?’ she said.
A shrug.
‘Was it the same gun that you used to kill Richard Kavanagh?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘Where did you get the gun?’
He shook his head.
‘You need to speak,’ Janet said.
‘No comment.’
‘What about the petrol, where did you get that?’
‘Same as before,’ he said, ‘the Shell place.’
‘So let me be clear, when you shot Victor he was standing how far away from you?’
‘Few feet.’
‘How many?’ Janet said.
‘No idea. Didn’t measure it.’
‘Was he facing you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Did he say anything?’
‘He was praying,’ he sneered. ‘Lord save me!’ Noel Perry widened his eyes and shook his hands in some ghastly parody.
‘Did you go to the warehouse intending to harm the victims?’ Janet said.
‘Yeah.’ Amusement in his eyes.
‘Why was that?’
‘Immigrants. Coons. Shouldn’t be here. Parasites spreading AIDS. Taking British jobs, houses.’
‘You were happy to buy drugs from them?’ Janet said.
‘Business.’
‘The drugs in your home, did you buy those from Victor and Lydia?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘You didn’t steal them?’ Janet said.
‘No.’
‘When did you buy them?’
He paused. His face hardened. ‘Can’t remember.’
He scratched his arm, shifted in his seat. It was all off kilter. What he’d said did not mesh with the forensics.
‘How could you see?’ Janet said.
‘What?’
‘The windows in the warehouse are boarded up, there are no lights. How could you see, to shoot them?’
He was silent for several beats then said, almost with relief, ‘There was candles.’
‘Did you touch the bodies after you had shot them?’
‘No way!’
‘Where did you pour the petrol?’ Janet said.
‘On them and all around.’
‘And they were both lying on the floor?’
‘Yes.’
‘How far apart?’
‘Dunno.’ He shifted in his seat again, threw his head back in a show of boredom.
‘Approximately?’ Janet said.
‘Fifteen, twenty feet.’
‘When did you buy the petrol?’ she said.
‘Can’t remember.’
‘Whereabouts did you shoot Victor, where on the body?’
‘I’ve told you. For fuck’s sake—’ He turned to his solicitor. ‘I’m not saying any more. I did it. Game over.’
‘He’s lying,’ Godzilla said to Rachel and Janet and Lee.
‘The details don’t stack up with what we know.’ She summarized the problems with Noel Perry’s confession, counting them off on her fingers. ‘One, we’ve no accurate time of day given for the shootings. Two, the description of the actual killings is wildly inaccurate. He doesn’t refer to the victims sitting, he can’t even get the number of shots fired right. Three, his claim to have started the blaze with petrol is contradicted by the hard evidence. If we contrast this with the joint accounts of the Richard Kavanagh murder, which were consistent, coherent, detailed and supported by forensics, I think we are looking at a false confession.’
Janet agreed. ‘Minimal detail, the less you say, the easier to keep on top of the lies. The only bit that seemed coherent was the account of previous visits and how he gained access.’
‘So I think we can accept that he was familiar with the warehouse,’ the boss said. ‘And he admits going there to buy drugs but his brother is no comment. From what we’ve seen so far these two don’t even fart without the other joining in, so I don’t buy Noel Perry suddenly going solo and committing a double murder. And I don’t think Neil has any idea that his brother has confessed.’
‘With Kavanagh,’ Rachel said, ‘they both suddenly owned up, didn’t they, couldn’t get a cigarette paper between the stories, but this time only Noel does.’ It was a weird one all right.
‘With Kavanagh they had time to discuss it before we picked them up,’ Janet said, ‘“if it’s getting close to charge we’ll own up,” that sort of thing. But they were already in custody when the warehouse victims were discovered so they’d not have any chance to talk about it.’
‘Even if they were responsible,’ Rachel added sarcastically.
‘Why a false confession, Lee?’ Her Maj said.
‘There are different types, different categories, but in this context I’m thinking attention-seeking. More stripes on his sleeve,’ he said.
‘Or is he protecting someone?’ This from the boss.
‘Greg Tandy?’ Rachel said. ‘Or Marcus Williams if it is drug-related?’
‘So we don’t charge Noel Perry?’ Janet said.
‘Wasting police time,’ Rachel joked.
The boss’s phone went and she rolled her eyes. She pulled it out, then held up a finger, red claw at the tip, signalling she had to take it.
‘Harry, what you got?’ she said.
Her face sharpened as she listened, then she thanked the caller.
‘What?’ Rachel said, alert to the shift in tension in the room.
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ the boss said, her eyes bright. ‘Tests on items recovered from the Keane house, in a holdall in Greg Tandy’s room, namely a pair of leather gloves, bear significant amounts of gunshot residue and traces of barbecue lighter fuel.’
‘So the twins kill Kavanagh but Tandy does the double murder?’ said Rachel, excited that they might have their killer.
‘I don’t know if he did but I think we can safely say the Perry twins did not,’ Her Maj said. ‘Unless some startling new evidence crawls out of the woodwork and starts clog-dancing by the end of the day, we ship them off to prison. Janet, arrest Tandy and interview him on suspicion of the murders; Rachel, talk to his family and oversee the search.’
‘Boss,’ Rachel said, ‘what about the hospital?’
‘What?’ Godzilla barked, a weird look on her face. Something flashed across Janet’s face too.
‘Shirelle,’ Rachel said, ‘if she comes round and I’m at the Tandys’ …’
‘You’re not the only rat in the alley, Rachel. If you are still tied up we send someone else. Teamwork. Hard to grasp, I know, but keep trying,’ Her Maj said in a snotty tone of voice. God knows what Rachel had done now, parted her hair the wrong way, but she was glad the meeting was almost over. Eager to get out there and get on with it.
23
Gloria Tandy was not best pleased that her husband was ‘assisting the police with their inquiries’.
‘What? For fuck’s sake!’ she swore. ‘What inquiries?’ She had greeted Rachel and her colleagues who would do the search with the same ill grace as before.
Rachel evaded the question. ‘You’ve not seen him then, not missed him?’
Gloria stared at her and finally said, ‘He moved out, Friday.’
‘You failed to mention that,’ Rachel said.
‘Yeah, well.’
‘Why did he leave?’
‘We weren’t getting on,’ Gloria said.
Really? Or did he need to go to ground after the killings at the warehouse? Mind you, the fact that Tandy hadn’t informed his nearest and dearest that he was down the nick just might support Gloria’s account of things.
‘What time did he leave?’
Gloria kept swinging her foot, a rhythm of restless irritation. ‘Two o’clock, around about then.’
She glanced at the quartet of officers who had accompanied Rachel. ‘What’s them lot doing?’
‘This is a warrant to search your property.’ Rachel showed her the paper. ‘Is anyone else at home?’
‘Connor’s in bed.’
‘If you could wake him and you’ll both have to wait down here with me.’
Gloria gave a bitter snort then called up the stairs. ‘Connor? Connor, get up. The police are here, they want to check the house. What for?’ She turned to Rachel. ‘You have to give a reason.’
Rachel nodded at the warrant, ‘A search for firearms and proscribed drugs.’
‘Drugs?’ she said. ‘He doesn’t touch drugs.’ No mention of weapons.
Connor came downstairs. When he saw them all in the living room he threw back his head and raised his arms, then let them drop heavily in a gesture of despair.
‘Anyone else in the house?’ Rachel checked.
Gloria gave a shake of her head. Rachel gestured for the team to go upstairs and begin looking.
‘Your husband attended a meeting at the George Inn on Sunday the sixth of May?’
‘Don’t know,’ Gloria said.
‘Free country, innit?’ Connor said.
‘Do you know if your husband had any dealings with Noel and Neil Perry?’
‘He’s been locked up since 2007.’
‘Since he came out,’ Rachel said.
‘He never,’ said Connor, ‘they’re nutters, them.’
‘Connor, shut it,’ his mother said. ‘He never told me anything,’ she said to Rachel. ‘I wouldn’t want to know anyway.’
‘Did your husband, to your knowledge, bring any weapons into the house?’
‘You want to ask me any questions like that, you’d best caution me and get a brief.’
‘He hasn’t done nothing,’ Connor said defensively, ‘it’s harassment, innit?’
‘Connor,’ Gloria warned.
Connor kicked at the kitchen table. ‘It’s all shit.’
‘Shut the fuck up,’ Gloria bawled, ‘you are doing my head in. It’s bad enough having this lot crawling all over the place without your bloody chuntering.’
Connor glowered at his mother.
The minutes ticked by and finally the police came downstairs empty-handed.
‘Would you like to wait upstairs while they search down here?’ Rachel said.
‘In the kitchen,’ Gloria said. ‘I want to see what they’re doing. They leave it like a pigsty if you don’t watch.’
The trio moved into the kitchen while the searchers began systematically checking the living room. Gloria Tandy’s phone went and she began a conversation with someone about a christening, going through the living room to wait by the front door as she did so.
Connor moved over and got a can of Coke from the fridge. He popped it open and drank, watching Rachel the whole time. Finally he said, ‘If I tell you something, you won’t say who told you?’
‘I can’t promise that,’ Rachel said. ‘Depends what it is.’
He rubbed his nose, thought for a moment. ‘You was asking about the warehouse, well, the Perry boys, they was there Friday.’
Rachel’s spine stiffened. ‘You sure?’
‘I saw them coming away over the bridge,’ he said.
‘What time?’
‘About nine.’
‘You’re sure they’d been at the warehouse?’
‘Well, they’d come up the hill from there. I seen them from my window.’ He shook his drink as if testing how much was left.
‘Why didn’t you say anything before?’ Rachel said.
‘Didn’t want to mess with them. They’re off their heads.’
‘They’ve been charged already,’ Rachel tried to reassure him, ‘they won’t be out for a long time.’
‘It could still go wrong, innit. Not even go to trial for months. Anything could happen. I ain’t no witness.’
‘Connor—’
‘What you on about?’ Gloria was back, phone in hand.
‘Nothing,’ he said quickly.
Why was he telling her now, Rachel wondered? Because the twins were in custody and he felt safer? It had been on the news: two men who have been charged with the murder of Richard Kavanagh continue to be questioned on further serious charges.
Or was it because Connor suspected his dad’s involvement and he wanted to throw the police off track? She knew Connor wouldn’t say anything else with his mother back in earshot. So instead Rachel tried Gloria. ‘Did your husband know Victor and Lydia?’
‘Who? Did he heck?’
‘Done in here,’ the man leading the search team said and Rachel and the Tandys shuffled into the living room while the police examined the kitchen and the back yard.
They found nothing.
Rachel had done the babysitting and was able to leave but whether the new information she had got was gold dust or dirt, she’d no idea. If Connor Tandy really had seen the twins coming from the warehouse on Friday at nine, did that actually help matters given it seemed evident that the twins were not responsible for the double murder? Or did it just muddy the water even more?