Foul Justice (18 page)

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Authors: MA Comley

BOOK: Foul Justice
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The suspect snarled at her. “You think you’re so clever, don’t ya?”

Frowning, she asked, “What makes you say that, Zac? Come on. Admit the GBH, and then we can move on.”

“I ain’t admitting to nothin’.” A hate-filled smile stretched his lips into a thin line across his yellowing teeth.

“I’m sure your brother would be urging you to accept the charge if he was here.”

A momentary, confused look flittered across his pale face. “Don’t get ya.”

“Trevor, isn’t it?”

The solicitor and his client exchanged nonplussed glances before Tyler said, “Inspector, I’m not sure what my client’s brother has to do with this. Are we still talking about the GBH charge?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lorne saw Katy writing in her notebook, which she passed over to Lorne. The note read:
Now you have him by the short and curlies.

“Excellent point, sergeant,” she said, stifling a grin.

A determined Tyler tried to grab the notebook from Lorne’s hand, but she pulled it back out of his eager grasp.

“I demand to know what you two are up to.” Tyler sat upright in his uncomfortable chair.

“How many brothers do you have, Zac?”

“One. Trevor.”

“Ah, right. It must have been a distressing time for you when he went missing.”

Zac’s confusion increased. “Yeah, it was. But…”

And with that one word, she knew that Zac had just dug himself a six-foot hole. “But?”

Under the table, his trainers scuffed the concrete floor, and he started to fidget in his seat under her cool gaze.

Mumbling, he said, “I didn’t say
but
. You misheard me.”

She looked over at Tyler. “Did you hear your client say ‘but,’ Mr. Tyler?”

He nodded.


But
. Such a small word
but
a vitally important word, nonetheless.” She started writing it over and over on a spare page in her notebook to emphasise her point. “My friend told me an interesting fact about you the other day, during my enquiries.”

“What?” he snapped defensively.

“In connection with another case I’m working on. You’ll see in a moment where the pieces fit. My friend told me that you’re the type who needs to be led. Is that right, Zac? Is someone pulling your strings?”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

If ever a suspect looked rattled, it was him. She was enjoying the look of panic that had settled in his eyes and pushed on. “I’m asking you again, Mr. Murray, what is your connection with Philip Underhill?”

“No comment.”

“Okay, let me put it this way—make it simpler for you, if you like. I believe your brother Trevor is alive.” She paused to gauge his reaction. “And that you and your pal Carl Ward are behind some robberies I’m investigating.”

Tyler chirped up, “Now wait just a minute, Inspector. My understanding is that my client has been brought in for questioning regarding a GBH charge. I know nothing about any robberies, and neither does he.”

“That’s strange, Mr. Tyler. How do you know your client doesn’t know about the robberies? Just because
you
haven’t been privy to the information doesn’t mean Zac here knows nothing about them.”

Murray spoke next. “I know nothing about any robberies.”

But, as his eyes looked over to the left, Lorne knew he was lying. “Did Trevor tell you to beat Underhill up to stop him from talking to us?”

“Nope,” Murray told her as his eyes dropped down to her notebook.

“Ah, so you admit Trevor is alive, then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Tyler shook his head again and eyed his client with frustration. Lorne held back a snigger that was dying to escape. “Here’s my take on things, Zac. Correct me if I’m wrong as I explain things, won’t you?”

Murray remained silent, so she continued. Katy pushed the folder in front of Lorne, and one by one, she placed the pictures of Rebecca and Jacob Dobbs on the desk before the suspect. She heard him gulp noisily and knew the pictures had affected him. Then she picked up the pictures of Lewis Kelly lying dead on his bed and thrust them before him.

 “While footballer Dave Dobbs was playing a match last Tuesday evening, you, Carl, and a third person—whom I suspect was your brother Trevor—broke into their house. Only you didn’t actually have to break in, did you? You’d already made sure that Underhill’s security firm made it easy for you to enter the property. How am I doing so far?”

Zac’s jaw hung open.

“For the tape, Mr. Murray’s jaw is open, and he has a shocked look on his face. I’m reading that to mean that so far, my assumptions are pretty accurate. I’ll continue. So, who’s idea was it to kill the kids, Zac? Yours?”

“No, it fucking wasn’t. I’d never…”

Feeling smug, Lorne raised her eyebrow at the solicitor, who had started to look disinterested in defending his client’s inept reactions to the questioning.

“You’d never
what
, Zac? Slit a child’s throat like this.” She snatched up the photo of little Jacob Dobbs and held it in front of Murray’s face. “He was
two
. What could a two-year-old do to harm a man of your size?”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What did you say, Mr. Murray? Please repeat for the tape?”

But he refused to, so she twisted the screws further. “Why did you leave Mrs. Dobbs alive?”

He shrugged.

“That woman will have to live with the image of her children being murdered by you and your gang for the rest of her life. Here’s a snippet of information for you: I received a disturbing call yesterday from Mr. Dobbs. His wife had tried to commit suicide. The guilt has proved to be too much for her. How’s
your
guilt holding up? Whose idea was it to kill the kids? Trevor’s?”

He angrily thrust his hands through his ginger hair as a pained expression twisted his face.

Instead of waiting for him to answer, Lorne struck again, searching out his jugular. “So what’s it to be, Zac? Take the rap for GBH, or shall I hit you with a murder charge? Actually, make that all three murders.”

Murray’s head whipped round to Tyler in desperation, but the solicitor kept his eyes focused on his pad and refused to make eye contact with his client. When Murray looked at her, she noticed his eyes were watering.

“Are they tears of guilt or desperation, Zac?” she asked sarcastically.

 He wiped the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand and snapped back, “Neither. I told you: I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

Lorne bashed her flattened hand down on the desk and coolly said, “And I’m telling you that you
have
. Mr. Underhill has already said that when he’s well enough, he’s going to come in and tell us your involvement in all of this.”

“Ha! That means he’s going to implicate himself, then,” Murray said, foolishly walking into the trap she had set for him.

“I’ve heard enough. DS Foster, get the duty sergeant in here and get him to place Mr. Murray under arrest.” Lorne scraped the chair on the floor as she stood up.

“Wait…‌You can’t arrest me without proof. I know my rights.”

“Yeah, and I know mine, too, Murray. You either cooperate or…”

His shoulders slumped in defeat, shaking his head, he mumbled, “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Lorne asked, taking her seat again.

Murray clammed up. And again Lorne rose from her chair and headed for the door. “Very well. If that’s the way you want to play it. I’ll leave you with this warning, Murray.” She held her hand up and placed her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “I’m this close, thanks to you slipping up during the course of this interview, to putting all the pieces together. I have every confidence, once we have Underhill’s statement and we collect his DNA from your wounds, that your brother and Carl Ward will be residing in a cell near you shortly.”

He gave a derisory laugh. “Good luck with that one. My brother’s been missing for three years.”

Lorne laughed and said to Katy, “Maybe we ought to play the tape back to Mr. Murray to refresh his memory about what he’s told us over the last hour.”

Katy reached for the tape but paused when Murray, looking confused, scratched his head. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it almost immediately.

Lorne left the room thinking she was at last on the right track, and it was only a matter of time before the case drew to a satisfactory conclusion.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

O
nce back in the
incident room, Lorne waited a few minutes for Katy to join her before she started issuing instructions.

“Okay, here’s where we stand. While AJ and John get some sleep, I want the rest of you to delve into three people’s pasts for me.” She walked up to the board and circled three names. “Molly, what you pulled up on Trevor Murray was brilliant, but I need more. What occupation did he have before he disappeared? Any contacts, family members, wife or girlfriend. Did anyone gain from his ‘supposed disappearance,’ for instance?”

“I’ll get on it right away, ma’am.”

“Tracy, I’d like you to dig into Carl Ward’s past. From what we’ve learned so far, he and Zac Murray have been involved in petty criminal activities for a few years now. Go back through his record; see when he was first arrested. I want to know who his employer was before he got into trouble. Any wife or girlfriend in the picture,
et cetera
. We have to find some kind of connections. I’m sure we’ve taken one of the main players out of the equation, so I don’t anticipate any more robberies. My guess is people will be spinning around on the spot, not knowing which way to turn.”

“I’m on it, ma’am,” Tracy said, already tapping away at her computer.

“Katy, I’d like you to dig into Danielle Styles’ background, friends, family,
et cetera
. Where did she get her money from to start such a business? What qualifications has she got to call herself an interior designer? I’ll be in my office. The minute you find anything, let me know ASAP.”

She called Roberts as soon as she entered the office and filled him in on what an idiot Murray had been during the interview.

He laughed. “Sounds a bit dense. Maybe Holland was right about someone having to pull his strings. What are you planning now?”

“I’m wondering if I should do a news conference,” Lorne replied.

“Yep, I think we should. Greenfall was asking why we hadn’t done one before now. I used Trisha Dobbs’ condition as an excuse—you know, losing her memory and not being told about her kids. Now that she knows, we need to get something organised. Would you like me to handle it?”

“That would be one thing less for me to worry about. I’ve got a lot on my plate—or I
will
have, in the next few days.”

“Such as?” Roberts queried.

Lorne picked up her pen and tapped it on the desk. “I’ve got the girls researching three people I suspect have a huge part in this. John and AJ have taken the morning off. Hope that’s okay?”

“Of course. They did well. Go on.”

“I thought this afternoon and tomorrow I would visit the designer again, then the Kellys’ friend, and this Denman.”

“Denman?” Roberts queried.

“The guy Murray had a scuffle with in the pub. DI Holland seems to think there’s some kind of history between Denman and the Murray gang.”

“That’s fair enough. Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d feel better if AJ accompanied you when you tackle Denman.”

Lorne bit down on her tongue and sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly before she answered, “Are you saying that Katy and I wouldn’t be able to handle him?”

“Inspector, you know I would never insinuate that. I just think it makes sense for a male officer to go with you. I don’t have to remind you that you’ve been off the force for two years, do I?”

“No, sir, you don’t. But I still don’t get where you’re coming from.” She thought back to how she’d successfully handled Katy’s boyfriend Darren without much bother. The trouble was that DCI Roberts wasn’t aware of that particular event, and she had no intention of telling him.

It was Roberts’ turn to exhale. “Lorne, since you’ve been away, the gang culture has escalated considerably. Please don’t fight me on this one.”

Reluctantly, she accepted his point of view. “Okay, you win. But if Katy kicks off, I’ll be pointing her in your direction for the answer.”

“If you must. I’ve got a meeting to attend. Keep me informed.”

“Don’t I always?”

He neither agreed nor disagreed before he hung up. It wasn’t every DI who contacted their DCI with every course of action taken to solve a case. Lorne did because she and Roberts had agreed that she would until she eased herself back into the role of DI.
A bit of moral support never hurt anyone, did it?

Lorne booted up her computer and started searching for results on Bob Denman.

Half an hour later, she had noted down his home address, but she struggled to find much else about him, except that he had made most of his money from being a property developer. She could understand that. There was good money to be had in renovations, as she knew full well. She thought it would be best to bring Denman in for questioning that afternoon, providing she and AJ could track him down.

A knock on the door broke into her train of thought. “Come in?”

“I’ve just had an alert, ma’am.” Tracy handed her a sheet of paper.

Lorne took in the information, and a light bulb went off in her head. “This could be great news, Tracy. Thanks. Will you send DS Foster in, please?”

Tracy nodded and left.

“You wanted me?” Katy walked into the office and sat down.

“Yep. Tracy’s just handed me this.” She passed the sheet of paper over the desk. “Could be something important. Some of the Dobbses’ jewellery has shown up at a pawnbroker’s. Maybe Carl or Trevor Murray tried to fence it when they heard Zac had been picked up.”

“You think?”

Frowning, Lorne asked, “You don’t?”

Katy’s mouth turned down. “I find it hard to believe they would have heard about Zac yet. It’s too early.”

Lorne thought about that for a minute or two. “You’re probably right. I suppose it has been a week since the robbery; it could be a coincidence. Something we’ll have to look into, anyway. Right. This afternoon, I’d like you and Tracy to go question the Kellys’ friend, Kim Smalling.” She watched as Katy’s head tilted and her eyebrow rose. “I’m going to see Denman. I’ll be taking AJ with me.”

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