DI Sean Corrigan Crime Series: 6-Book Collection: Cold Killing, Redemption of the Dead, The Keeper, The Network, The Toy Taker and The Jackdaw. Luke Delaney
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that’s why you tried to kill DS Jones. You had to. You knew she was getting close to the truth. Jarratt warned you, so you had no choice. She was going to bring your whole house of cards crashing down, so you broke into her flat and you tried to kill her.’
‘You’re delusional. You think I’d kill to protect Jarratt?’
‘No. To protect yourself.’
Hellier leaned forward as close to Sean as the table they sat across would allow. ‘I don’t care if you think you know who I am, or even if you do know who I am. I can be anyone I want to be. I can go anywhere I want to go. Do anything I want to do. Jarratt, a corruptible cop – ten a penny, Inspector. Not reason enough to kill your little pet.’
Sean swallowed his mounting anger as best he could. ‘Nice touch, by the way,’ he told Hellier.
‘What are you talking about now?’ Hellier asked. ‘More delusions, Inspector?’
‘Using my name when you approached Linda Kotler. Telling her you were me. Did you have a false warrant card with you? Or did Jarratt provide you with a real one, in my name? Did you show her the card when you were telling her you were me?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re insane, man.’
‘No,’ said Sean, icy calm. ‘Not me. It’s you who is insane. You have to be.’ The room fell silent, Sean and Hellier locked in combat while Templeman and DC Cahill looked on uncomfortably, aware they were little more than intruders in a private duel.
‘I think this interview’s gone on long enough,’ Templeman interrupted, his head spinning with new revelations, even if Hellier’s was not. ‘Given the injuries Mr Hellier suffered while being arrested, I feel this interview should be stopped until such time as my client has received further medical treatment.’
Sean’s broken hand was throbbing to distraction. The double dose of painkillers he’d swallowed two hours ago was wearing off. He was in no hurry. They would take a break. He checked his watch.
‘The time is now one thirty-six and I’m suspending this interview so that Mr Hellier can have his injuries examined by a doctor. We’ll continue the interview later.’ Sean moved to press the off button. Hellier stopped him.
‘Wait,’ he insisted. ‘Just wait a second.’
What now? What the hell was Hellier up to? Was he finally ready to end the charade?
‘I don’t care what your laboratory says or doesn’t say. I didn’t kill these people and I didn’t attack your precious Sergeant Jones.’
‘We’re not getting anywhere,’ Sean interrupted. ‘This interview is over.’
‘We’re both being used, Inspector,’ Hellier snapped back. ‘Last night, the night your sergeant was attacked, I received a call from a man. I received the call at about seven thirty. It was the same man who called me the night the Kotler woman was killed, at about seven p.m. He always called me on my mobile, except the first time. That was earlier in the afternoon, also on the day the Kotler woman was killed. On that occasion he telephoned my office. The secretary can confirm it.
‘Whoever made those calls was ensuring I had no alibi. He always arranged to meet me in places where there was nobody about who would remember me, but he never turned up. He made sure I went to great pains to lose the police surveillance. He always insisted I lost the surveillance – and now I know why.’
‘And I suppose this same mystery man planted your hair at the murder scene of Linda Kotler?’ Hellier shrugged his shoulders. ‘I haven’t got time to listen to this crap,’ Sean snapped.
‘I’m afraid you have no choice,’ Hellier reminded him. ‘It is your duty to investigate my defence statement, as I’m sure Mr Templeman was about to point out. You have no choice but to try and discover who it was that called me on those days at those times, whether you think it’s a waste of your precious time or not. If you don’t, then there’s not a judge in the land who wouldn’t throw the case against me out of court.’
Sean knew Hellier was right. As ludicrous as the alibi was, he had to investigate it. He had to prove it false.
‘Fine,’ Sean said. ‘I’ll need the number of the caller.’
‘I don’t have it.’
‘You said he called you on your mobile, so the number would have been displayed on the screen.’
‘Whenever he called, the number was blocked. The display said nothing.’
‘Did you try dialling one-four-seven-one?’
‘Same result. The number was withheld.’
‘Then there’s not much I can do.’
‘Come, come, Inspector,’ Hellier said. ‘You and I both know that with the right tools the caller’s number can be obtained. You already have my mobile phone. I suggest you have your lab rats examine it.’
‘It’ll be done,’ Sean said. ‘But it’ll take more than that to save you. This interview is concluded.’ Sean reached for the off switch, but stopped when he heard a sudden urgency in Hellier’s voice.
‘I sense your doubt,’ said Hellier. ‘Behind your determination to prove me guilty of crimes I didn’t commit, I know that really you’re not sure, are you? Something grinding away inside you, pulling you in a direction you don’t want to go, pulling you towards the belief that maybe, just maybe you’ve got the wrong man. And although you wouldn’t give a fuck if I rotted in prison, that thought would always be with you, wouldn’t it? The thought that someone out there got away with murder.’
Sean shook his head and gave a slight laugh. ‘You know, in a strange way I thought there would be more to you than this. I don’t know what exactly, but something. But it turns out you’re just another loser trying to save his worthless neck. There’s nothing special about you. You thought you couldn’t be caught, that you never made mistakes, but you did – not only the hair at Linda Kotler’s murder scene, but the fingerprints in Daniel Graydon’s flat.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Hellier said coldly. ‘Like I told you, I knew Graydon, I’d been to his flat. Anything belonging to me you found there means nothing.’
‘That’s true,’ Sean agreed. ‘But one thing’s been eating away at me about that ever since we found your fingerprint in the flat, and it’s exactly that: the fact we only found one print, on the underside of the bathroom door handle.’
‘What’s your point?’ Hellier asked.
‘One print? That makes no sense,’ Sean explained. ‘If you had no reason to conceal the fact you’d been there, then why didn’t we find more of your prints? We should have found dozens. You know what this says to me? It says you cleaned up the scene, wiped down everything you touched, but you missed one thing: the door handle.’
‘Daniel was very house proud,’ Hellier argued. ‘My other prints must have been wiped away when he cleaned.’
‘No,’ Sean snapped. ‘He couldn’t have, because we found multiple prints belonging to other people who had been in that flat after the date when you said you’d been in there. Daniel didn’t wipe your prints – you did. And why would you do that if you hadn’t killed him? Why, James?’
‘Because that’s the way I have to live my life,’ Hellier answered. ‘I look after myself. I’ve always had to. No one has ever done anything for me, ever.’
It was the first chink in Hellier that Sean had seen. The first crack in his persona, allowing a second’s glimpse into his soul. And in that second he could see that Hellier was made the way he was by some terrible circumstances in his past. What those circumstances were, Sean would probably never know, but now he knew that Hellier wasn’t born bad, someone else had made him that way. He felt a pang of empathy for the man, but this was no time to wonder