Death Trap (21 page)

‘What?’ Ade could hear the bustle of the main road receding into the distance as whoever had spoken to him steered him someplace else.

‘Where . . . are . . . you . . . ?’ But he never finished as the world dropped away.

The last thought he had was that he had to get to Nikki.

twenty-six

Midday

‘I’m not saying nothing until my brief gets here,’ Gary Larkin insisted as soon as his bum hit the seat of the chair in Interview Room Number Two.

‘Why do you need your solicitor if you haven’t done anything wrong?’ Rio responded.

Larkin’s lip curled. ‘Because I don’t trust you lot.’

Without a word Rio left him alone with the uniformed officer in the room and quietly closed the door.

She quickly checked her phone and read Calum’s on-the-hour text; things were good at his end. The calm she felt was immediately replaced with urgency as she headed for Interview Room Number Four. She could already smell what was going on inside before she opened the door. Rio coughed slightly as she entered the room filled with light smoke. Strong and the two officers on loan from Surrey inhaled and exhaled quickly on cigarettes.

Strong pulled the cigarette away from his lips grimacing slightly with the expression of a former smoker. ‘Why are we doing this?’

‘You’ll see . . .’

Rio stopped speaking as the door opened admitting another member of her team carrying the vacuum cleaner that belonged to one of the Fort’s cleaners and an envelope under his arm.

‘You do know that this is against health and safety rules?’ Strong said, smoke mingling in the air with his words.

‘Like you care about rules,’ Rio replied, more with camaraderie than annoyance as she bent down near the vacuum cleaner. She pulled it apart until she had the dust bag in her hands. Unclipped it and spread a light sprinkling of dust around the room. She then moved to Strong with the opened bag.

‘Right, drop your ciggie end in here.’

‘Is this some type of strange ritual you guys do at The Fort?’ he asked as he followed her order.

But Rio didn’t have time for questions as she walked towards the two officers who dropped their cigarette ends into the bag.

‘Get this out of here,’ she said to the officer standing near the vacuum cleaner. Rio took the envelope from him and turned to the two Surrey officers. ‘Thanks for doing this. If anyone asks you about this say nothing, just refer them to me.’

Once they were gone Strong walked over to her. ‘DI what’s going on here?’

But before Rio could answer the door opened. The desk sergeant popped her head around the corner. ‘Gary . . .’ She covered her mouth as she started coughing. ‘Larkin’s solicitor is here.’

Rio turned to Strong. ‘Bring Larkin and his brief in here.’

Strong frowned. ‘But I thought we were questioning him in Number Two.’

‘So does Gary.’ Rio allowed herself to smile. ‘Just get them in here.’

Once she was alone Rio allowed herself to take a steady, long breath and regretted it instantly when dust particles entered her throat. She swallowed, pushing them down and out of the way. What she was about to do wasn’t strictly illegal, not really bending the book: just being strategic with the resources she had available. Rio placed herself on one side of the bare rectangular table, the envelope in front of her, and waited.

When Larkin and his solicitor, Ben Catley, walked into the interview room, accompanied by Strong, the young man of law recoiled, coughing and took out a hanky. ‘Have you been burning bodies in here, Detective Inspector Wray?’

‘I’m sorry about this, but our last interviewee was a heavy smoker. Of course, we should have asked him to stop but he said he was stressed out and needed a smoke.’

From behind his hanky, Catley told her, ‘Well, we can’t possibly conduct an interview in a room like this; you’ll have to find somewhere else.’

Rio sounded innocent. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t realise that the room I’d placed Mr Larkin in was already booked.’ She allowed herself to look at Gary Larkin for the first time. ‘You don’t mind do you, Gary – I’m sure you’re used to smoky environments?’

Larkin looked pale, the bob of his Adam’s apple working overtime.

As he sat down Rio pressed on with the caring cop routine. ‘Are you sure you’re OK? Do you suffer from asthma or any other respiratory conditions?’

Rio caught Strong’s hooded eyes as he sat beside her and saw that he finally realised what she was doing. Nikki Bell’s words lay between them:
One of them couldn’t breathe properly . . .

Gary Larkin puffed out his chest. ‘Nah, I don’t suffer from asthma. Got lungs of steel.’ But the splutter he let out at the end maybe told another story.

Strong put on the electronic recording equipment. The interview started.

But before the questioning began Ben Catley said, ‘I would like to make a quick statement on behalf of my client.’ He coughed, then started up again, ‘I object, in the strongest possible terms, to the harassment of my client who has not been involved in any criminal activity for many years . . .’

But Rio wasn’t listening to him; she was only interested in keeping her gaze glued to Larkin’s face. A film of sweat shone around the side of his nose and below his receding hairline. His features were rigid – trying to keep himself under control, or just nerves at being questioned? Rio knew she would soon find out.

A belching cough from Catley announced the end of the statement.

‘Have you finished, Mr Catley?’ Rio kept her eyes on her person of interest as she asked the question.

‘For now.’

‘Good.’ She placed her forearms on the table and laced her fingers together. ‘I’m sure you understand, Gary – I can call you Gary?’ But she didn’t wait for his response. ‘That just to keep the books straight and to completely eliminate you from this inquiry, it would help if you could tell me where you were during any of the Greenbelt raids, so we can categorically confirm you weren’t involved?’

Gary smiled at her. ‘I can tell you where I was for all of them.’

Everyone was surprised, even his solicitor.

‘All of them?’ Rio’s fingers tightened together. ‘How can you possibly know where you were for all of them?’

Gary coughed once. He didn’t put his hand over his mouth, Rio thought, definitely a man who wasn’t brought up right. She didn’t like the way the sweat on his face was drying up like he was feeling confident.

He threw his head slightly forwards. ‘Because whenever a big crime goes down, I make a note of where I was in a book, just in case you lot try and pin it on me later. A lot of the guys do that.’

‘But according to Mr Catley, you haven’t been involved in the underworld for years?’

His head inched back. ‘I haven’t. But that hasn’t stopped you lot from bringing me in for Greenbelt has it?’

‘So where were you at approximately at five forty-five on the morning of January the eighth?’

Larkin didn’t even blink. ‘At home, with the wife, sleeping.’

‘How can you be so certain of this?’

He reached into his pocket and produced a small book, with a padded black cover like a diary. ‘I’ve been checking while I was waiting for Catley here to turn up.’ He looked in his book. ‘Snoozing like two babes we were.’

‘And if we talked to your wife she’ll back you up?’

His chest puffed out slightly, but this time he spluttered and wheezed.

‘Mr Larkin,’ his solicitor asked, ‘Are you OK to continue?’

A few softer coughs left his mouth. Rio noted that the rest of them had got accustomed to the smoky atmosphere in the room; the only person who hadn’t was Gary Larkin.

‘I think we should suspend this questioning—’

‘No.’ Gary waved his hands stopping his solicitor. ‘I just want to get this over and done with so that I can get back to my Maria and the girls.’

A beloved husband? A devoted father? Yeah, and my name’s Michelle Obama, Rio thought.

‘Must feel good knowing that you’re married to a woman who’s taking care of your back,’ Rio said, once the man opposite had his lungs back under control.

Catley softly jumped in. ‘My client has given you a full account of what he was doing at the time and date you requested. So shall we move on to any other dates you wish to explore with him?’

And that’s what Rio did.

January 11th?

Sleeping.

January 21st?

Kipping on the sofa at my brother Terry’s. Me and the missus had a barney.

February 1st?

Watching a live wrestling match on Sky from America.
Wrestlemania
.

February 14th?

Valentine’s Day. Want to hear what me and the wife were up to beneath the sheets?

‘A woman was killed on that raid,’ Rio said. ‘She hadn’t been married long. Had her whole life ahead of her.’

Gary Larkin ran a finger under his nose as he sniffed. ‘I heard. Hope you catch the bastard who did it.’

Then Rio asked about 22 February; the day before yesterday.

‘Twenty-second?’ Larkin’s question was filled with puzzlement.

Rio’s shoulders tensed as she leaned forwards. The moisture was back on his face.

Rio’s voice punched across the table at him. ‘That’s right. Yesterday. A gang entered the home of Maurice and Linda Bell, murdering them and a third occupant, their cleaner. Surely you don’t need your book to tell you that?’

He was clutching his book as if looking for support. ‘Sure. I was at . . . sleeping . . .’ His eyes flicked around. ‘I think I was sleeping—’

‘You think?’

‘Yeah.’ He nodded twice. ‘Yeah.’

Rio explained, ‘It’s been in the papers, Gary. Maurice Bell was shot in the head. Their cleaner was shot in the back. Linda Bell was found in the kitchen. Do you know what happened to her, Gary?’

By now Larkin’s face was bleached white. The sweat was rolling down his face. ‘I didn’t have . . .’ It was like he couldn’t find his breath. ‘This is crap. I’ve had enough of this nonsense. Catley tell her . . .’

Rio pressed on. ‘Her head was almost cut off. Someone took a knife and sliced it right across her throat. Was that you, Gary?’

Rio pulled out something from inside the envelope on the table. A photograph. With a single finger she spun it around to face Larkin. It was the gruesome image of Linda Bell’s bloody corpse slumped in the kitchen.

Larkin’s other hand desperately searched inside his other pocket. ‘That’s not my style and you know it.’

Catley shoved his voice between the two. ‘I think we’re about done here Detective Inspector Wray. My client has clearly demonstrated he couldn’t have been involved in these tragic events.’

But she ignored him. Kept her intense brown gaze slammed against Larkin. ‘This is your chance, Gary, to tell the truth—’

He shook his head as his laboured breathing took over the room. ‘Couldn’t have been me. Know why? I was getting ready to go to the bookies—’

‘That’s a bit early for the bookies. And I thought you were sleeping? Or was it dossing down on your brother’s sofa?’ Rio twisted her mouth at him. ‘You’re not convincing me here.’

He stared back at her, his mouth half opened like a fish that knew its days were up because it wasn’t going to be seeing water ever again.

‘Gary, you don’t look well.’ Strong spoke for the first time. ‘Do you need some water?’

But the other man just waved his hand and spoke, words so faint they could barely be heard. ‘No . . .’ Deep gulp of air with a wheeze caught up in it. ‘Just got’ – another huge intake – ‘a cold.’

But all that mattered to Rio was solving this case, keeping Nikki Bell alive. So she pressed on, determined not to leave her fish dangling high.

‘You were at the Bells weren’t you? Who else was with you?’

Gary’s lawyer jumped in. ‘You don’t have any evidence to support that, Detective Inspector.’

But Rio didn’t answer as her gaze was firmly fixed on Gary. His face was now nearly wet and had gone waxen with a tinge of blue. Abruptly Gary Larkin slumped back. The rasping from his chest sounded like his lungs desperately needed an oxygen machine.

Now Rio was concerned. She turned to Strong. ‘Get the desk to call an ambulance.’

Gary raised his head looking horrified. He shook his hand as if forbidding her to do so. Then he slowly slid off his chair and fell unconscious to the floor.

twenty-seven

12:30 p.m.

Something was badly wrong. Ade knew that as soon as he woke up. His head hurt, from his right temple right across to his left. He felt stiff and achy all over. And it was dark. That’s when Ade realised that he didn’t know whether it was light or dark; something was sticking and pinching the skin over his eyes leaving him with only visuals in his mind – images that were quickly taken over by full-blown terror. He’d been on the main road on his way to . . . to . . . He couldn’t remember.

Remember.

Remember.

Ade saw her text. Remembered.