Blind Fury (40 page)

“Go on, John.”

“She asked for twenty quid. She knew I’d got cash off the other whore, so I threw it at her. She was laughing, saying it’d have cost more, but she fancied me.” He shook his head. “Listen, I don’t like admittin’ this. I’d been faithful up to then. You know, I respect my marriage vows?” He sighed deeply.

“What happened next?”

“I told her I was going back to Manchester. Although we’d lost the contract with Strathmore, we still had to complete the term of the contract, right? She said she’d give me the twenty quid back if I dropped her off at the Gateway Services.”

“And did you?”

“Yes. I just dropped her there and carried on out of the service station. I didn’t stop, I just wanted to get rid of her.”

“Did you see her again?”

“No. That was the last time I saw her.”

“You said you wanted to get rid of her. You didn’t really mean that, though, did you?”

“Yes. I felt disgusted with myself for being so weak-willed. I never wanted to see her again.”

“But you spent a lot of time traveling up and down the motorway, so we know you did park at the same service station on at least two other occasions.”

“Yes, I did, and I was brought in here for questioning because of a problem with my vehicle’s registration. I didn’t give them my new home address, and thinking about it, I reckon I presumed that Mr. Rodgers would have taken care of that.”

“But you own the van, don’t you?”

“Yes, I paid for it in installments. It was a good deal, and I wanted to know I could hang on to it if I ever got made redundant.”

“And you never registered the ownership of Mr. Dillane’s van that you bought from him, either. Why was that?”

“Oh, I just never got around to it. I don’t get much free time.”

“But you had to know it was illegal. The van is still registered to Mr. Dillane. Did he not send you the documents?”

“No, he gave me everything when I bought it.”

“Yet you still failed to register it, and you used it on the road illegally. However, you did collect a new MOT certificate—from Croydon, I note, where Mr. Dillane still lives.”

Smiley shrugged and pulled at his tie again. “I only used it when I was doing private work. I suppose I just didn’t want my boss to find out.”

“Mr. Dillane was a close friend, wasn’t he, when you were at Aldershot?”

“Yes, he was one of my closest pals.”

“He asked to borrow money from you, is that correct?”

“Yes, he did, but I have never liked lending money to friends. They never pay you back, and I couldn’t afford it at the time, anyway.”

“But you had considerable cash. You paid him seven hundred pounds for his van, isn’t that correct?”

“Yes.”

“So Mr. Dillane knew you did have money?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“In his statement, he said that you told him you were having money troubles at that time, so you could only pay him in installments, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“But you not only had your wages, you also had the extra cash you made doing private work.”

“Yes. That’s what I wanted his van for—I just told you.”

“So why did you say you were having money troubles?”

“It was a lie. I didn’t want to shell out a lot of cash to him.”

“But he was your friend!”

“Not one I kept in touch with on a regular basis.”

“Because he didn’t like Sonja?”

Smiley remained silent.

“He knew about her, didn’t he? He told us that she was sexually permissive when she worked in one of the Alder-shot pubs.”

Smiley clenched his fists. “Whatever Micky Dillane told you is a lie. My wife didn’t care for him because she knew he liked me to go out and get drunk with him.”

Anna was tiring. They were going round in circles, and for her to come back and try to nudge Smiley into opening up by talking about Sonja wasn’t paying off. She glanced at Mike to indicate he should take over.

Gregson pulled at his shirt cuffs and suggested that they should not discuss Smiley’s wife in hearsay, as it bore no connection to the reason his client was being questioned.

Anna sat back, trying to think of the next tack, because she knew they had no evidence to prove that Smiley did continue to see Margaret Potts. She turned to the trolley to remove the file on Dorota Pelagia. She was just about to indicate to Mike Lewis that they should move on when she had a thought and checked her notes.

“When you went to the service station on these two other occasions we know of, did you see Margaret Potts?” Mike asked.

“No, I didn’t ever see her again.”

“But she contacted you, didn’t she?” Anna asked innocently.

Smiley blinked and then looked to Gregson.

“When you found her looking through your wallet, she had your children’s photograph and your wife’s, and she must also have found a business card, maybe even your home address. She got in touch with you, didn’t she?” Anna continued.

“No, that’s not true.”

Anna leaned across to Mike. “That’s something we should ask Sonja about—see if she received any calls from Margaret.”

“She never called. Maybe she saw me at the service station, but I never saw her.”

Chapter Seventeen

B
arolli could feel the frustration emanating from Anna and Mike from his vantage point in the viewing room. He couldn’t understand why they didn’t move on to questioning Smiley about the other victims. So far, the man had not admitted to anything apart from having had sex with Margaret Potts on one occasion. Why did Anna keep returning to Smiley’s wife? Barolli’s train of thought was interrupted by Barbara saying that Michael Dillane had arrived.

Dillane was complaining about having to return to the station. It was his day off, and he’d promised his wife they’d go to Ikea to look at sofas. He felt that he had told the police everything regarding the sale of his van to Smiley. He began to get interested as they went through into the forensic department, however, and became quieter. Led to the table where the blue blanket was pinned out, he was invited to handle it if he wanted to. All they wanted to know was if he could identify it as the dog’s blanket he had said he left in the back of his van. They had already removed some dog hairs and tested them against dog hairs removed from the van while it was parked at Smiley’s garage. It would be a slower process to get them confirmed, but the team would be able to use this as leverage in questioning Smiley.

Dillane didn’t hesitate. He picked up one corner of the blanket that had a jagged edge where the prison stamp would have been, and said, “I cut this off. Did it with the wife’s scissors she uses for crimping or something—you know, the ones with the zigzag blade. Also, there’s a big stain to one side where me dog got sick. I washed it, but it was bright yellow, and the stain never come out. Gawd knows what Nimrod had been eating. Yeah, this is my blanket, all right.”

Barolli found Anna and Mike in the canteen on a lunch-break. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“Slowly,” said Mike.

“We got an ID on the blanket from Dillane. He is certain it was the same one he left in the back for his dog to lie on. They are still matching the dog hairs. Had to bring in a canine specialist unit for animal identification, but we can use the coincidence until it’s a positive match.” Barolli laughed, recalling that he had asked Dillane if they could also bring in the dog. He had said they’d have to dig him up, as poor old Nimrod had died about a year ago.

“Very funny.” Anna sighed. “So we move on to Dorota, but we were hoping to break him over Margaret Potts.”

“I know—I heard. I was in the viewing room, and you were getting nowhere fast, as far as I could see.”

Anna finished her coffee and pushed the cup aside. “We have to get him to confess, because we don’t have enough to charge him with the others. We don’t even know how he picked them up; all we’ve got is circumstantial evidence.”

“Should be enough, though. Christ, he puts on the uniform, they feel safe enough to get into that dog handler’s van and he kills them.”

“But we have no forensic evidence from the van that any of the girls were ever inside it. Has Pete matched any of the carpet fibers?”

“Not yet, and they stripped the van down; ditto the Swell Blinds vehicle. So far, nothing.”

“All we’ve got is that he has admitted having sex with Margaret Potts one time and never saw her again.” Mike sounded depressed.

“We go again and keep on going,” Anna said. “That little prick of a lawyer makes me want to slap him.” She stood up. “I’m going to have a wash and brush-up. We’ll reconvene in, what, Mike?”

Mike looked at his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

Anna went into the ladies’ room, washed her face, and combed her hair. Resting her hands on the sink, she tried to think how they could put more pressure on Smiley. She closed her eyes, wondering if it was possible they had it wrong. Langton had warned her it was going to be tough to break Smiley—but what if the man were innocent?

She looked up and stared at herself, then folded her arms. If, as Langton had said, Sonja was the means to open him up, Anna had tried and failed. But could she put more pressure on, using Sonja as bait?

Anna had five minutes to spare, so she went into the incident room to talk with Barbara. Smiley’s house was still being searched, but to date, no evidence had been forthcoming from either his home or the rented garage. They had also found nothing incriminating in Smiley’s locker at his workplace.

“What did he do with the victims’ clothes?” Anna said, more to herself than Barbara. She crossed to the incident board and looked at the faces of the murdered women.

“You’ve only one found naked, and that was Dorota Pelagia.” Barbara stood beside her.

“You know, in the Fred West investigation,” Anna mused, “one of his victims’ mothers called at his house, asking about her daughter, and Rose West was wearing her slippers.”

“Yeah, well, with Sonja being the size of a house, I doubt if she’d fit anything from our victims.”

“It was just a thought,” Anna said, knowing she was grasping at straws. Missing were the new shoes described by Eric Potts and worn by Margaret the last time he had seen her, but then they didn’t know if they had all her belongings, especially since Emerald Turk had taken some and dumped the rest.

Mike appeared and told Anna that he was ready to start the interview again. “Not looking good, is it?” he said quietly as they made their way back to the interview room.

“Nope, but we’ll keep going. They’ve nothing new from his house,” Anna told him, sitting at the table.

“Do we go for Dorota Pelagia now or keep on with Margaret Potts?”

“I’ve changed my mind about Dorota. Let’s stay on Margaret for a while longer. We can maybe tire him out.” She smiled encouragingly.

“Or, more likely, we’ll get tired out.”

Smiley looked refreshed and had the audacity to say he had enjoyed his lunch. Mike warned the man that he was still under caution. Just as they were about to begin, Anna’s phone vibrated. She took it out and glanced at the text message, then showed it to Mike.

“Mr. Smiley, I am going to ask that another officer continue this interview. Please excuse me.”

Anna stood up as Mike spoke into the tape recorder to say she was leaving the room. She hurried to the adjoining room to find Barolli and Barbara sitting with Sonja Smiley. Anna drew Barolli into the corridor and asked him to join Mike. She gestured at Sonja through the small window in the door. “When did
she
arrive?”

“Just now. Turned up out of the blue. They called me from reception to go and collect her. She’s a nasty piece of work.”

“Right. Let me have a go at her, and you follow Mike’s lead, okay?”

“I have conducted an interview before,” Barolli said sarcastically.

Anna hurried into the incident room to ask Joan for a copy of all their victims’ photographs. She then returned to interview room. Anna took a deep breath and walked in as Sonja turned to face her. She was wearing what looked like a floral tent and had sweat stains beneath her armpits. Folded over her knee was a raincoat.

“I want to know what is going on,” the woman said forcefully. “Nobody is telling me anything. I want to know why you’ve got my husband here
and
why you’ve got men searching my house from top to bottom. What is going on?”

Anna sat opposite Sonja. “Your husband has been arrested,” she said calmly.

“I know that, and if you try to tell me it’s to do with his not changing the registration on his van, then you must think I’m stupid. I know
he
thinks I am, because that’s all he’s told me. You don’t take a man away in handcuffs just for that, so now I want to know the truth.”

“Your husband has been arrested in connection with four murders.”

Sonja’s mouth dropped open.
“What?”

“It is obviously serious, and he is being interviewed.”

“Murders? John? That’s preposterous. He’s never done anything like that! You’ve got it wrong.”

“Then perhaps you can help me. Would you agree to answer some questions?”

“I want him to have a lawyer.”

“He has one. If you feel it necessary, we can also bring one to be privy to this interview, but as you are here of your own free will and just offering to assist my inquiry—”

“What do you want to know, because I am telling you now, John never done a bad thing in his life.”

Anna smiled and said. “Do you have the photographs, Barbara?”

DC Maddox passed over a file, and Anna placed it on the table. “I am going to ask if you recognize any of these women. May I call you Sonja?”

“Are you serious? He’s here about four murders?”

“That is correct.”

“I am telling you that we have never spent a night apart, not since we were married. I know
everything
about him.”

“But you didn’t know he had a van parked in a private garage. It used to belong to Michael Dillane.”

“Oh, him, he’s no good, that one. I won’t let him in the house no more. He gets John drunk, takes him pub crawling. I won’t have it.”

“But you didn’t know about the van, did you, Sonja? So perhaps there is a lot else about your husband that you don’t know. For example, did you know he was making a considerable amount of money doing private jobs?”

“What private jobs?”

“He uses the blinds that are customers’ returns and sells them at a cheaper price.”

“No, that’s not true, because Arnold Rodgers wouldn’t allow that. I know he’s very strict. You got that wrong.”

“Your husband paid Michael Dillane seven hundred pounds cash for his van, Mrs. Smiley. He has been earning quite a lot of extra money for years. In fact, he was working on one of those private jobs when he met Margaret Potts.” Anna withdrew Margaret Potts’s photograph and laid it flat on the table in front of Sonja. “She was a prostitute, and your husband has already admitted to having sexual intercourse with her and to paying her.”

“I’ll bloody kill him!”

“We believe, Mrs. Smiley, that your husband killed
her.
”

The sweat lay in beads across Sonja’s top lip. It trickled down her neck, and she was obviously uncomfortable, as she kept on patting her face with a crumpled tissue.

Out came the photographs of Anika Waleska, Estelle Dubcek, and Dorota Pelagia. Anna placed them in a row on the table. “Do you recognize any of the girls?”

Sonja blew out short sharp breaths, and now the perspiration was pouring off her, the crumpled tissue sodden.

“These girls are Polish. Have you ever met any of them?”

“No.” Her voice was hardly audible.

“Have you ever heard your husband discuss meeting Polish girls?”

“No.”

“We believe, Sonja, that your husband killed these girls also.”

Her small round eyes were so pain-racked that Anna felt sorry for her and offered her a bottle of water.

“Thank you.” Sonja unscrewed the cap and gulped the water. Her hands were shaking.

“There is a possibility, however, that we could be mistaken. Perhaps you could help us clear a few things up.”

“I want to see him.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“He didn’t hurt these girls. I know him—he couldn’t do anything bad. He is a good man.”

“Can you recall a few years back, probably shortly before you moved from London to Manchester—did you receive any odd phone calls?”

“How do you mean?”

“Perhaps asking for John or hanging up? You know the kind of thing, from a woman possibly.”

Sonja sighed and drank more water. “We had someone call a few times, but they hung up and we thought it was because we were in a rented flat. You see, we rented when we first moved to Manchester; we didn’t get our house for a few months.”

“Did this caller ring when John was at home?”

“Yes. He was angry because they called late and woke the children. He said it was someone getting the wrong number. I remember he told them not to call again.”

“Did the person call again?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Was it a woman’s voice?”

“Yes. Why do you want to know? It was before we moved to our house.”

“Yes, you said, and this would have been five years ago, correct?”

“I want to see my husband. I don’t like these women’s faces.”

Anna removed the photographs.

“You have said that John never spent a night apart from you in all the years you’ve been married.”

“Yes, even though it meant he would have to travel long hours. He always come home to me, so that is why I know this isn’t right. He has done nothing bad. I know this.”

Anna again placed down Margaret Potts’s photograph. “He has admitted to having sexual intercourse with this woman.”

“Take it away from me! I don’t believe he did that. She looks like a whore—you say she is one. He would never go with a woman like that, never, never.”

“Mr. Dillane inferred that when you were young and working at a bar in Aldershot, you were sexually permissive.”

Her fat hand smacked the table. “Not true. That man is a liar, a wicked liar. Why are you saying these terrible things about me, about my husband?”

“Because we have four dead women, Mrs. Smiley, and we have removed certain items from your house that link to their deaths.”

“No.”

“Why did your husband have a security guard’s jacket and cap hidden in a garage that he rented near your house?”

Sonja took a deep breath, her ample bosom almost pressed against the table.

“I don’t know nothing about that. What I do know is that friend of his, that Michael Dillane, he was a security guard, so they must have belonged to him, and he left them when he stayed one night.”

Anna realized that for all her sweating and nervousness, Sonja was quick to give a possible reason for the presence of the uniform.

“Why are you here, Mrs. Smiley?”

“Because I get a call from Mr. Rodgers. He said that he had taken enough from the police and that he could not keep John working for him anymore. I come to straighten things out with him. I not say no more until I speak to my husband. You got to let me talk to him.”

“I am afraid that won’t be possible.”

“You got no right to keep him here! I want to see him!”

“You can wait until the interrogation is completed, but it could be some time.”