Death's Privilege (12 page)

‘What? I can’t even settle my child on my own?’ She walked around the room, with the boy’s head on her shoulder, bouncing him up and down. She bent down and picked up a soft ball. He took it and soon stopped blubbing.

‘The sooner you come downstairs, the sooner we get through the search.'

Moretti put her son back in his cot. He put the ball down, stood up on his pillow and looked at Sarah. He was a cutie; Sarah wanted to ruffle his blonde hair, but thought better of it. Kids got caught up in police work all too often. Most were either runaways or tragic victims of either twisted crimes or the poor decisions of the people around them, people that were supposed to have their best interests at heart. The little guy was a sweetheart. The first time he should have seen a police officer was in a library book or a video about how to cross the road, not when they came to search his mother’s house. Moretti muttered something about police harassment as she walked past her onto the landing.

‘You may want to get dressed.’

‘You’re not nicking me, are ya?’ said Moretti, in a high pitched tone.

‘There’s a few of my colleagues downstairs, you may want to cover up.’ Sarah escorted her to her room and Moretti threw on a hoody and some jeans. Having to haul Hayward out after a heart attack wouldn’t be the best way to spend a morning. Sarah checked the bathroom and the master bedroom and was satisfied the first floor was clear of any other occupants.

Downstairs, two women sat on the sofa. Their revealing nightwear had Hayward gawking and Joel trying not to stare, despite making a terrible job of it.

‘They’ve got nothing to do with this.’ Moretti showed no sign of calming down.

‘Well, hello stranger.’ Hayward’s lecherous look roved around her body. Putting on the hoody was a smart move.

‘Oh Jesus, you too?’

‘Okay, Sally-Anne, if you take a seat over there, I’ll explain everything,’ said Sarah. Getting the search underway sooner rather than later would be better for all concerned: less listening to Moretti’s outbursts, less of Hayward’s drooling and less sleep lost for the poor little fella upstairs. Sarah tore the occupant’s copy of the warrant at the perforated edge and passed it to her. ‘This is the court’s authority to allow us to search this premises. We’re looking for the mobile phone we specified as it’s connected to an offence of drugs supply.’

‘I don’t have your phone. I don’t know anything about drugs. I told you two, I’m straight now. Who’s told you I’m still doing drugs?’

‘We can’t discuss the intelligence behind the warrant.’

‘You turn up here two days on the trot, mob-handed to search my house whilst my child is crying upstairs, and you can’t tell me why?’

‘That’s how it works,’ said Joel. ‘We’re going to search this place. No phone, and nothing else illegal, and you’ve got nothing to worry about. If there’s anything you want to tell us about before we start, it could save us a lot of time.’

‘I told you, haven’t got nothing.’ Moretti looked at the two girls, as if talking to them rather than replying to Joel.

‘Okay, well, shall we take down here and you guys start upstairs?’ Joel looked at Hayward.

‘Works for me.’

‘No one is searching my child’s room without me there. I know what you lot are like.’

‘Right, well, now that’s sorted, let’s get on with the search. Sally-Anne, feel free to come upstairs with us,’ said Sarah. They’d agreed Sarah was leading the search, but Joel had stepped in and taken over. It was a small thing, but it was there. Moretti led the way to her son’s room, with Sarah and Dales following.

‘Matt’s still a perv,’ said Moretti.

‘I doubt that’ll ever change.’ Dales put his gloves on, moved some rubber balls and plush toys out of the way and opened the cupboard. ‘Who are those two downstairs?’

‘Friends.’

‘You’re a little too old for slumber parties.’ Dales removed the boy’s folded clothes, shook them open and folded them back as best he could. Sarah sifted through the toys.

‘We were out last night, they couldn’t get a cab, if you must know.’ She rocked the cot gently. Her son was sound asleep again.

‘Where are you hanging out these days? A new-money Rhystown princess? I didn’t take you for that sort.’

‘I’ve come up in the world.’

‘You certainly seem to have.’ He glanced around the room and at the boy, making his point that every aspect of her life was now different. Different for the better it seemed, on the surface at least, but Sarah sensed a bitterness in his tone. Dales seemed unhappy things were going so well.

The room was clear, but there was one more place to look.

‘I’m going to need to see under his mattress,’ said Sarah.

‘I’ve just got him to sleep. You think I’d store drugs under there?’

‘You’d be surprised where people hide things.’

Moretti looked at Dales. He nodded. After a big sigh, she lifted her son out of the cot and patted his back. He awoke in seconds, but didn’t cry. Sarah lifted the mattress, and felt around it for any unusual bumps or protrusions.

‘See? Nothing. Just like I said.’ Moretti put her son on the floor. He tottered to the corner, sat down and tugged at a Playmobil garage set at the bottom of his toy mountain, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on Sarah.

Hayward shouted from downstairs. They were partway through searching the master bedroom and, as Moretti was calmer than when they searched the kid’s room, it was unlikely anything was being kept there. There was no sign of any men’s clothes or toiletries. Sarah kept an eye out for a grey Nike hoody, but didn't find any.

When they returned to the lounge, Hayward was holding up a poorly-rolled joint he’d found between the sofa cushions and a small bag with the remains of a white-powder hit. He looked far prouder than he should have been. Still, it was enough. The girls denied all knowledge. Sarah asked them again when all three were together in the lounge and got the same response.

‘I’ve never seen it. Don’t know how it got in here.’ Moretti was lying, it was obvious. Either way it didn’t matter; further questions would be asked at the station.

‘Tell us who Eamon is and we’ll forget we found it.’ Dales tried to expedite the situation.

‘I’ve never seen those drugs and I don’t know Eamon. Jeez, don’t you people listen?’

‘Then you’re all coming in for it.’

‘You what? What do you want me to do with my child?’

‘You’re gonna have to make some calls,’ said Dales, ‘either that or we can keep him at the nick.’ It wouldn’t be a popular idea with whoever was sitting in the office and had to look after him, but it was an option.

‘He’s not going anywhere near a police station. Where’s my phone?’

‘Is it one of these?’ Hayward held up four mobiles, all in clear exhibit bags.

‘What you taking those for? I need them.’

‘Drugs, phones, don’t pretend you don’t know how this works, Moretti. Which one’s yours?’

She hesitated before pointing to the white iPhone. Hayward was about to pass it to her when Sarah stopped him.

‘I’ll hold it. Who do you want to call?’ She held the phone by the corners and pressed the power button through the exhibit bag. If this was the phone they were looking for, Sarah didn’t want her explaining her prints away on a childcare call. Moretti gave her the code, 7699, and Sarah held the phone to her ear whilst she made the call. They waited a short while for her babysitter to arrive.

Moretti was silent on the way back. People that knew the game often were. Booking them into custody took a while and, as all three requested the duty solicitor, there would be a delay before interviews started. Mavenswood custody was on the ground floor of the police station. It was convenient, drop the prisoner off and head upstairs to the CID office to prepare written disclosure and an interview plan. As with all things convenient and useful, it was going to change. Planning permission had been granted for a much larger custody centre in an industrial complex in the middle of the county. More cells, more space and a modern look, but a twenty-minute drive from Mavenswood nick.

Sarah sat at her computer and opened her solicitor’s disclosure template whilst Dales made the tea. It would be a simple two-sentence document. Warrant conducted at 12 Tower Road; drugs and phones seized. Your client will be asked to account for why the drugs were in her house and who the phones belong to.

She’d been taught a planning method during her PEACE level-two training course. PEACE stood for Plan, Engage, Account, Close and Evaluate. PEACE interview training had been brought in back in 1993 and marked a move from interrogations, focused on obtaining the admission or ‘cough’, to investigative interviews, working towards a detailed and thorough account. They’d taught her to plan using timelines, with separate boxes for each event in the suspect’s account, write out the points needed to prove the offence and keep a space for notes. Producing a strong plan was good practice, but wasn’t needed for an offence like simple possession. Proving it in this case wouldn’t be easy. Hayward had found the powder between the sofa cushions and being out of sight allowed for a blanket denial of any knowledge. She typed a few key questions onto the template and left the rest of it blank.

‘No necklace.’ Dales put the green tea down on the desk and stayed standing. ‘The girls’ handbags were full of cash. Stopped in after a night on the game, I expect.’

Sarah flicked through the file and pulled out the CCTV still from the Oxlaine. It was a high-quality image, far better than most of the grainy CCTV pictures she’d seen; the only trouble was it didn’t show much. It was distant, dark and didn’t show a shot of the woman’s face. ‘I’m still convinced. I’ve asked the local beat bobbies to do reassurance visits on Tower Road. The neighbours may able to tell us about any suspicious activity going on around number 12.’

‘I’d say it’s her.’ Joel stood over her shoulder and commented on the CCTV still. ‘I doubt a jury could be sure of it though.’

‘One step at a time.’

‘PM results came back from the hanging. Pathologist said he’d been strangled first with a ligature of some sort, then hung. They found finger marks on his neck, which they expect was Enderson trying to fight the killer off. There were abrasions on the skin, caused by the ligature moving up and down, and the damage to the hyoid bone was at an angle, suggesting the assailant was pulling on it from behind in an upward motion. MCT are reviewing the file and are likely to take it on.’ Joel sounded a little disappointed at the last part.

‘Wow. They letting you stay on the case?’

‘Hopefully. Just waiting to find out.’

Twelve

‘You have the right to free and independent legal advice. Your solicitor, Mr Bells of Bells and Foster, is present. He’s here to provide that legal advice. Are you happy you’ve had enough time to consult with him prior to the interview?’ Sarah glanced down at her notebook whilst delivering the introduction. She knew it off pat, but felt safer having it in writing in front of her in case of a momentary memory lapse. The tape whirred and clicked as she went through the introduction. Dales sat next to her, pen in hand, ready to jump in and ask any questions she missed. She’d watched him conduct two interviews and this was her first chance to lead. He’d be watching her closely as part of her assessment, something she tried to forget about.

They’d managed to secure the largest interview room in the custody suite, but having four people in it still felt like a squeeze. One of the other rooms had been updated to discs and video recording; however, this one left them with cassette tapes and audio only.

Moretti looked at Mr Bells, who nodded, before answering. ‘Yes.’

‘Still,’ Sarah went on, ‘if you feel at any time during this interview you need further time to consult with your solicitor, you have that right. Just let me know and I’ll stop the tape and let you do so in private.’ Moretti nodded again. ‘Mr Bells is not here to answer questions for you, but may interrupt in certain circumstances regarding something I've asked.’

Moretti nodded.

‘You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say, may be given in evidence. What that means is—’

‘I know what it means, let’s just get on with it.’ Moretti shuffled in her chair and folded her arms. That morning she’d been a loud-mouthed pain. Sarah understood why. She wouldn’t have been happy with anyone waking her young child up either, especially the police looking to cart her away. Whatever Mr Bells had said to her in their private consultation, must have involved a lot of placating and a lot of telling her not to shoot her mouth off once the tapes started rolling. Moretti’s shuffles seemed like attempts to distract herself from opening her mouth.

‘Well, I’m still going to explain it to you, so I’m clear exactly what your understanding is.’ Rules were rules, after all. ‘You can stay silent, but if you do, the jury may draw an inference against you. What that means is, if you fail to answer my questions today and this matter goes to court, and you tell the court a full version of events, the judge may direct the jury to question your honesty. They may ask why you didn’t tell me the same version of events here and question whether they believe you.’ Moretti looked at the wall and twirled her hair.

Mr Bells tapped his client on the arm. ‘That rarely happens.’

Sarah continued. ‘And the last part means just that—anything you say may be given in evidence. This interview is being recorded and may be played or, more commonly, typed up and read out in court.’ Moretti nodded as she spoke. ‘Do you understand what I’ve said? Have you any questions before we start?’

‘My client won’t be answering any questions today. I have advised her to answer no comment to every question posed.’ Mr Bells had been a solicitor for a while. Sarah had met him once before whilst back in uniform. Outside the interview room he was a very charming and relaxed man. Once the tapes rolled, he was all business. She knew the animosity would be purely professional—they both had jobs to do—but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Dales had told her the best way to handle solicitor’s comments or questions was to answer directly back to the interviewee. Engaging with the brief led to confrontational arguments which only served to alienate the suspect further, and being interviewed at a police station was a pretty good way of doing that in the first place.