‘A lifetime’s work down the tubes.’

‘Aye…’

‘Make anyone want to kill, wouldn’t it?’

‘Would it?’

Monica Have didn’t give any emotion but, thought Hennessey, she was clearly, utterly focused, listening to every word.

‘Well, wouldn’t it? You have a motivation, a strong one.’

‘Yes…’ Richardson nodded. ‘Yes, I confess…’

‘Careful!’ Monica Have glanced at him.

‘I confess,’ repeated Richardson. ‘I confess that I felt like killing him, I confess that I am not unhappy that someone has done so, except that now I have no chance at all of recovering my debt.’

‘It weakens the motivation,’ Monica Have said to Hennessey.

‘I would point out that my client does not have the motivation you claim he has.’

‘Mrs Have.’ Hennessey leaned forward. ‘I would point out that your purpose is to ensure that the procedures as dictated by the Police and Criminal Evidence Act are observed. You are not here to advocate on the part of your client.’

‘Accepted.’ Monica Have inclined her head.

‘But she’s right,’ Richardson smiled. ‘I don’t have the motive you claim.’

‘Only once you’ve calmed down. Hot-headed, though, are you not? An Irishman with the traditional fiery Celtic blood. You were seen and heard to threaten to kill Max Williams whilst holding a two-foot-long length of scaffolding, which our forensic pathologist said could have caused the injuries.’

‘Could have?’ Monica Have looked at Hennessey. ‘It’s an important point. If you can say would have, you would be in a stronger legal position. So would or could?’

‘Could,’ Hennessey conceded.

‘You see,’—Monica Have spoke softly yet with an authority Hennessey found annoying in one so young—‘for this interview to proceed, you have to be on stronger, firmer grounds. Motivation has evaporated, you haven’t got a murder weapon’

‘And I have to say that once again you are straying into the area of advocacy, Mrs Have.’ Hennessey spoke equally softly.

Monica Have made a slow, slicing movement through the air with an open palm. ‘Well, let’s see how far we get.’

‘We’ll leave the issue of the murder weapon on one side then. And frankly, as to the motivation, it isn’t really an issue if the perpetrator acts in a fit of rage, then tries to cover his misdeed.’

‘I didn’t kill them.’

‘You know Tim Sheringham?’

‘Are you asking my client or telling him?’ Monica Have eyed Hennessey with a gimlet-like gaze.

Hennessey paused. ‘Do you know Tim Sheringham, he of Sheringham’s Gym?’

‘Aye, I do.’

‘Well?’

‘We have a beer occasionally. Nothing more than that.’

‘Sure?’

‘Sure.’

‘Do you use anabolic steroids to build your body?’

‘No. I don’t need to.’

‘Tim Sheringham’s in the frame for this as well.’

‘This?’ Monica Have said, without looking at anybody.

‘The double murder of Mr and Mrs Williams.’

‘Thank you, Chief Inspector.’

‘Tim Sheringham’s in the frame for the double murder of Mr and Mrs Williams as well as you, Mr Richardson.’

‘So go and give him a hard time.’

‘You both have motive, you both know each other, you’re both strong men, well able to dig the grave in which the bodies were found in the time you had to dig it in, and neither of you have an alibi.’

‘So?’

‘And the house, the murder scene was cleaned thoroughly, painstakingly. As if by a woman.’

Richardson’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you saying?’

‘What I’m saying, Mr Richardson, is that with your anger towards Williams, and with Tim Sheringham’s double motivation which you may or may not be fully aware of, fuelled with a little alcohol, feeding and reinforcing each other, you visited the Williamses’ house, where you battered them to death, and later, the following night, you buried their bodies in a field, close to their house. Didn’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Then you got your wife to clean up the mess.’

‘No!’ Richardson stood up. Yellich did the same ‘You leave my wife out of this.’

‘Out of what?’

‘This!’ Richardson sank back into his chair. ‘My life is ruined, without this. I don’t need to make it worse by serving life for murder. I don’t want my wife’s life ruined. She’s done nothing to deserve this.’

‘But you have. Is that what you’re saying?’

‘No. No, I haven’t.’

‘Chief Inspector.’ Monica Have spoke slowly. ‘I have to insist that now you either charge my client with the double murder of Mr and Mrs Williams, or you discharge him from custody pending further enquiries. You have no evidence on which to hold him, and in the absence of a confession, I have to say that your only option is that of the latter.’

Hennessey sat back in his chair, glanced at Yellich, who raised his eyebrows. He then said, ‘This interview is terminated at…10.45 a.m.’ He switched off the tape recorder.

The red recording light faded. He took one of the cassettes and placed it in the case and handed it to Monica Have.

Bravado.

Smug. Well turned out, muscular, handsome, smiling, holding eye contact, but inside, Hennessey knew, inside Tim Sheringham was shaking like a leaf.

The twin spools of the tape recorder spun slowly. The duty solicitor turned to Hennessey as if to say, ‘A pause is a pause but this has gone on too long.’

Hennessey, undeterred by whatever the duty solicitor might think, had to concede that Sheringham was bearing up well, standing up to questioning, hard questioning, very well. Very well indeed. He’d been here before, he knew the value of not saying anything he didn’t have to say.

‘You murdered Max Williams because he was pulling out of a drug deal he was financing, and threatening to inform on you.’

‘Did I?’

‘Didn’t you?’

‘No.’

Another pause. Beside him, Hennessey felt Yellich stiffen and then relax.

‘Mr McCarty informs me otherwise.’

‘Mr who?’

‘Mr McCarty. Sergeant McCarty, Drug Squad.’

‘Oh yes…’ Sheringham smiled. ‘I remember him now.’

‘I bet you do,’ Hennessey growled, fighting back a growing dislike for Sheringham. ‘Have quite a motivation, have you not?’

‘Have I? Not?’

The duty solicitor, a small, bespectacled man who had given his name as Fee, and who Hennessey had not met before, glanced at Hennessey but said nothing.

‘You were having an affair with Mrs Williams, she threatened to inform your wife of that and she had photographs that compromised you. And he, well, he had information which could jail you and he was going to spill, he’d already been interviewed by the Drug Squad, and he was going to go along with a sting operation and you found out, or you suspected, and so you bumped them off.’

‘Could you be more specific, please?’ asked Fee.

‘So you murdered them. Two birds with one stone.’

‘Did I?’

‘Didn’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Then you cleaned the mess up, but not well enough, didn’t get little specks of blood up from under the carpet.’

Sheringham remained silent. Smiling.

‘Then you put them in a shallow grave.’

‘Did I?’

‘Didn’t you?’

‘No. In fact, no, I didn’t.’

‘But you benefited from their murder.’

‘Well, yes.’ Sheringham pursed his lips. ‘Yes, I have. My marriage may well survive now, for one.’

‘And for two, Mr McCarty of the Drug Squad won’t be obtaining the major conviction he was anticipating.’

‘No comment.’

‘You know with that anabolic steroid stunt you seem to have skated on very thin ice and got away with it.’

Sheringham raised his eyebrows.

‘But murder. Double murder is a different matter. Not so easy to wriggle out of this one, especially because we can link you with both victims. Not only that, but we can link you with a motivation to murder both victims.’ Sheringham shrugged.

‘Tell me about your relationship with Michael Richardson.’

‘He’s a mate. Not close. Met at the gym. We have a beer together once or twice a month.’