Blind Fury (39 page)

“No comment.”

“Mr. Dillane also provided us with details of you paying him seven hundred pounds for his van, which he had previously used when working as a security guard and dog handler. You failed to reregister this vehicle with a change of ownership and new address so you could use it to commit your crimes. These will be added charges brought against you, as we have details of the garage where this van was parked; it was rented out to you and nobody else. Do you admit to that?”

“No comment.”

Mike sighed and continued. “We have removed from this same garage in Manchester a security officer’s uniform, a cap, and a jacket.”

Anna passed over the photographs of the items, and Smiley merely glanced at them. He also paid scant attention when Mike showed him the cash and detailed the amount found.

“Do you have anything to say about these items?”

“No, I don’t.”

“We have also found numerous dog hairs inside this van that are being tested to see if they match dog hairs taken from a blue blanket that at some time was used for Mr. Dillane’s guard dog to lie on. We will come to the importance of this later.” Smiley simply nodded. His lawyer was scribbling notes as Mike talked. Anna had not said one word.

“We are aware that the victim, Miss Margaret Potts, came into a considerable amount of money over a period of two years. We believe that you paid her this money because she was blackmailing you. Do you have any comment to make about that?”

“No, I don’t.”

“We have had access to your bank accounts and find no withdrawals of money to pay Mr. Dillane for his van. Where did this money come from?”

“No comment.”

Mike was becoming frustrated. Smiley’s reactions were getting to him. They needed to elicit a proper response from him, so Anna tapped Mike’s knee beneath the table. He sat back, giving her the cue to begin talking. She kept her voice low and persuasive.

“Maggie Potts was a common slut, but you found her attractive, didn’t you? What did she do, John? Did she come on to you in Emerald Turk’s flat and you just couldn’t resist her? She may have been a tough nut, but she was still more attractive than your wife, wasn’t she? Sonja’s overweight, her looks have gone, and she was barely giving you enough pocket money. Why was that? Because she knew you couldn’t keep your dick in your trousers?”

Smiley’s lips tightened.

“Margaret was still sexy compared to Sonja, and she knew how to handle a man and give him pleasure. She went down on you, didn’t she? I bet Sonja hasn’t given you any pleasure for a long time. Like a beached whale, isn’t she?”

“You got no right to slag off my wife,” Smiley said with gritted teeth.

“But if she was to find out that you’d been screwing a whore and paying for it, she’d have done what, John? Cut off your pocket money—or cut off your balls? We know she didn’t have any idea how much cash you were earning on the side in your dodgy deals. You never thought she’d find out, but then Margaret got greedy, didn’t she?”

Smiley was beginning to fidget, constantly straightening his tie with the flat of his hand.

“She kept on hitting you for more cash, and you kept on letting her give you blow jobs when you met up with her at the service stations. You hated yourself, didn’t you, but you couldn’t keep your hands off her—isn’t that right?”

“
No.
”

“No what? No you couldn’t keep your hands off her, or no you didn’t screw her round the back of the service stations? And all the while she was asking for extra payments, threatening to tell your wife about the love affair. Was that what it was, John? You’d fallen for a hardened tart that Sonja would go apeshit about; she’d maybe smell her on you when you got home.”

“No.”

Anna knew that so far, the biggest response was when she had been rude about Sonja, just as Langton had suggested, so she went for that again.

“You get home after a long drive, and there is this overweight, ugly woman demanding to know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. You must have been itching to tell her to her big fat face.”

“You shut up talking about my wife.”

“But you carry around a picture of her, young and pretty. You didn’t know back then she’d been fucked by half the blokes in your regiment.”

“That is a disgusting lie.” He tried to stand.

“Sit down, Mr. Smiley,” Mike said sharply.

“It is not a lie. Sonja put it about, and then she got her claws into you, and you thought you had a catch—but she was no better than Margaret Potts, was she?”

“Sonja is my wife and the mother of my children.”

“So that was why she ate herself into the state she’s in. She’s obese, Mr. Smiley, she pants for breath just going up the stairs. Why don’t you carry
that
picture in your wallet instead of the fantasy that she’s still that girl you married? You must hate her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“How do you think she’s going to feel about all this? We will have to question her, and we will obviously bring up your relationship with Margaret Potts.”

“Sonja has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Any of this? You are accused of
murder
, Mr. Smiley! Of course we will have to question her—she could be involved. She must have known about your predilection for young girls, young Polish girls, maybe girls that reminded you of what Sonja used to look like. I doubt if she will understand about Margaret, but she will have to be told, and as you decline to assist us in any way, then we will have to try and get answers from
her.
”

“No. I don’t want Sonja brought into this. I’ve agreed to answer your questions and—”

He was interrupted by Mike leaning forward and saying, “You have not answered a single question, Mr. Smiley, to the contrary, and if this continues, you leave us no option but to bring in your wife.”

“I don’t want her brought here.”

“Really? Well, if you are not prepared to cooperate—”

“She is not to be involved.”

“I don’t think you will have any say in the matter.”

At this point Gregson leaned toward Smiley and held up his notebook in front of their faces. Anna could hear him telling Smiley that they were trying to goad him into answering their questions and, as they had discussed, he felt it wise that Smiley continue to remain calm and not allow himself to be antagonized.

Mike was clearly fighting to keep control of his own temper as he looked at Gregson and said scornfully, “You think that is what we’re doing? Mr. Gregson, your client may be charged with four murders. If you think I am being antagonistic toward Mr. Smiley, then I suggest you advise him to cooperate and to drop the ‘no comment’ routine.”

“I am here to advise my client, and being abusive toward his wife to get him to answer questions that implicate him is unacceptable,” began Gregson.

“Implicate?” Anna queried. “Mr. Gregson, we have a mass of evidence implicating your client, starting with the murder of Margaret Potts. Your client has lied to us, and we are able to prove that.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Detective Travis, I do not believe that you
do
have the evidence. You have no proof that my client was being blackmailed by Margaret Potts, and therefore you have no motive for murder.”

Anna stood up. Mike remained sitting as she reached over to gather up the photographs, snatching at them in a show of temper. “I will now arrange to have Mrs. Smiley brought here for questioning. Surely you don’t think for a second that she isn’t suspicious as to why her husband has been arrested?” She glared at John Smiley. “Whatever excuse you’ve made up is going to sound ridiculous when she must have seen the evidence removed from your house. The officers are still there, Mr. Smiley, still checking for further evidence. Don’t you think she’s going to realize that your arrest is not for some petty crime? Unless, of course, your wife was fully aware of your sexual antics with a prostitute and could be charged with attempting to pervert the course of justice.”

“I told you—my wife has nothing to do with any of this. I swear on my children’s lives, she knows nothing.”

“What doesn’t she know about, John?”

Smiley was sweating. Instead of patting his tie, he began to loosen it.

“Why don’t you get it off your chest?” Anna said persuasively. “At least it will avoid our having to arrest your wife. And then you have your children to consider if she’s brought in for questioning.”

Gregson pointed at Anna. “This is really becoming intolerable, DI Travis. Mr. Smiley has stated over and over that his wife has no connection with any—” He stopped as if he knew he was trapping himself.

“That his wife has no connection with what?” Anna demanded.

Gregson got his act back together. “She knows nothing about the murder allegations leveled against my client.”

Anna stacked the photographs of Margaret Potts and tapped them on the tabletop like a pack of cards. “But I have made it very obvious that due to your client refusing to answer any questions, it leaves us with no alternative but to question Sonja Smiley in connection with those murders.”

“I do not believe you have any incriminating evidence against my client for . . .” Gregson checked his notebook and listed the four victims’ names.

Anna wished she had Langton backing her up. She felt Mike was taking a backseat.

“No evidence?
No evidence?
I beg to differ with you, Mr. Gregson, but I am not prepared to sit here any longer and play this game with you.”

John Smiley pushed back his chair. It made a harsh noise, startling them into silence. “I want to get some things cleared up,” he said.

There was a lengthy pause.

“I admit I have lied to you.” John Smiley stared at the tabletop; he was now sweating profusely. “I did meet Margaret Potts, and I did place a blind in Miss Turk’s box room. It was a long time ago, and I really couldn’t remember her. I didn’t even know her name, which is the reason why I have not admitted to knowing or recognizing her.”

“Take us through what happened when you first met Margaret,” Anna said.

“Miss Turk opened the door to me. I didn’t even know there was anyone else there. She seemed anxious to leave, so I said I’d let myself out as soon as I’d finished rehanging the kitchen blinds. She mentioned there’d been a problem with the ones in the little bedroom, too. I knew those flats, as we had a contract with the housing association in them days, and I happened to have a set the right size in the back of the van. She bunged me forty quid, waited for me to nip down and bring up the blinds, then she cleared off and left me to it. Didn’t seem to mind leaving me on me own. I didn’t realize there was anyone else there at that time.” Smiley rubbed his nose, then continued. “I was just finishing off the kitchen blinds when
she
came out of the smallest bedroom.”

“Margaret Potts?”

“Yes. I didn’t know anyone else was there, right, and she gave me quite a fright. She asked if I wanted a cup of tea, and I said I wouldn’t mind one when I’d put up the other blinds. She sat watching me while I did it. After a quick cup of tea in the kitchen, I left. I was eager to get home.”

“What was she wearing?”

“She was in a nightdress.”

“What color was it?”

“Black, I think.”

“Low-cut, strappy thing, was it?”

“Yeah, I think it was.”

“See-through?”

“Yeah, nylon thing.”

“She sat up on one of the stools, did she?”

“Yeah.”

“So then what happened?”

“I just told you. I packed up my tools and I left.”

Anna tapped the table with her pencil. “That’s all that happened? This sexy woman wearing a transparent black nightdress sits watching you, and you expect me to believe that you just walked out? Didn’t you even strike up a conversation with her?”

“We exchanged a few words, but none I can remember.”

“What vehicle were you driving?”

“Pardon?”

“What vehicle were you using on this occasion?”

“Er . . . it’d be the one I used for the company, as I’d had some jobs to do earlier in the day.”

“What time of day was this?”

“Late afternoon.”

“So did you return straight back to Manchester?”

“Yes. It was my last bit of work.”

Anna tapped the table again. “Did you have sex with Margaret?”

“No, I did not.”

“It’s very hard for me, Mr. Smiley, to believe a word you say. I am expected to believe that you just finished your work, packed up your tools, had a conversation that you can’t really remember, but you recall exactly what she was wearing. You were eager to get home, but she must have been very tantalizing, provocative, and we all know what you have waiting for you at home.”

“I don’t like the way you say things about my wife.”

“And I don’t like you lying to me. What happened, John? You start getting a hard-on when she crossed and uncrossed her legs on that high stool—is that what happened? You couldn’t resist her, could you? And she was offering it up to you, giving you a big come-on. A sexy man like you couldn’t help but want it. What was she doing, easing her nightdress up her thighs, pulling the straps down? Just exchanging a few words . . . Come on, what do you take us for!”

“I knew she was a slag.”

“Oh, you knew that, did you, John?”

“Yes. The woman Emerald is one as well. It was obvious.”

“So knowing Margaret was a tart meant nothing—right, John?”

He nodded.

“What are you nodding for? To admit that you knew she was a tart, or that it was all right to screw her because it was on offer?”

“All right,
all right
—I let her do it.”

“Do what, John?”

“I went into the bedroom with her.”

“You had sex with her?”

“Yes. She gave me a condom.”

“So after you’d had sex with her, what happened?”

“I took a shower. I felt dirty after screwing her. I was ashamed about it, and when I came out, she’d got my wallet out of my trousers and was looking at the photographs of my kids and Sonja. Nosy cow! I snatched them off her.”

“Was she dressed by this time?”

“Yeah. A right slob, she was.”