Above Suspicion (45 page)

When they had gone, Langton murmured to Anna, ‘Cool bastard, isn’t he?’

After a short time, they returned. Daniels was checking his coat sleeve, flicking a small piece of lint from the cuff. Then, flanked by the two men, he headed out of the house, Anna following behind. As the rear passenger door was opened, he gave Anna a slow, appraising look. Langton gestured peremptorily for him to get inside, while Lewis walked round to the opposite door.

‘You’ll be going in the patrol car,’ Langton instructed Anna quietly, before taking his place in the front seat. He gave the nod to the driver.

Anna watched the car move off quickly, then seated herself in the back of the patrol car next to the uniformed officer. They, too, pulled out quickly to follow in convoy behind Langton.

‘They’re bringing him in,’ said Moira, hurrying into the incident room.

Jean stood up nervously. ‘Which interview room?’

‘Number two’s been made ready.’

Jean rushed to the window to see them entering the station below. Barolli, desperate to have a look as well, restrained himself, busying himself at his desk.

Anna entered the incident room. They crowded around as she took off her coat.

‘Any trouble?’ asked Barolli.

‘Nope. Apparently he didn’t say a word on the way here. Now he’s calling his brief.’

‘What happened when you arrested him?’

‘He asked if it was a joke.’

They turned quickly as Lewis entered the incident room. He cautioned: ‘It’s going to be half an hour or more until his brief gets here, so he’s been taken down to the cells to wait.’

Langton stood outside the cell door while the duty sergeant asked Daniels to remove all items from his pockets. When he was asked to take off his shoes, he sat on the bunk bed, still silent and carefully unthreaded his shoelaces. Then came the request for his tie, which he rolled round his fist and placed beside the shoelaces.

‘Trouser belt,’ Langton said softly.

Daniels unbuckled his belt, snaked it through its loops and tossed it onto the bed.

‘Once your brief arrives, you’ll be taken up to the interview room. Until then, you will remain in the cell.’

Daniels watched as the duty sergeant noted everything down on his clipboard. Then he folded his coat neatly and passed it over.

‘Can you sign for them please, Mr Daniels?’

‘By all means.’ Daniels did a fast, flourishing signature.

‘And his cufflinks,’ Langton ordered.

Daniels sighed and returned to the bed. He stretched out his arm and tugged at his wrists to unclip a pair of gold twists which he then held out to the sergeant in the palm of his hand. After they had been added to the list, a uniformed officer outside the cell took the belongings away. Now the sergeant put on a pair of rubber gloves.

‘Could you open your mouth, please?’

Langton joined them at this point. Daniels tilted his head back and the sergeant looked into his mouth.

‘Lift your tongue.’

The sergeant ran his hands through Daniels’s hair, felt behind his ears and told him to drop his trousers. Langton walked out, discreetly closing the door slightly, as the last section of the body search was completed.

‘All clear,’ the sergeant said, pulling off his rubber gloves.

Langton glanced over at Daniels, who still stared at the wall ahead of him. While he had not reacted to the indignity of the body search, Langton saw that the muscle at the side of his jaw was working overtime.

When Langton entered the incident room, all eyes turned to him. He quickly summarized the situation in the cell.

‘He’s not a happy man, but he’s not giving an inch.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Right, let’s have a summary in my office.’

It was already coming up to eight. Anna doubted that they would go for the interrogation before noon.

Radcliff did not get to the station until a quarter to nine. He apologized, explaining it was due to heavy traffic. In Langton’s office he was made familiar with the charges. At first, he showed no reaction to the development.

He looked over the warrant, then, apparently satisfied, placed it back on Langton’s desk. ‘On my previous visit, you had nothing but circumstantial evidence against my client. Am I to presume you now have incriminating evidence?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you are charging him with the murder of - erm …’ He couldn’t remember her name.

‘Melissa Stephens.’

‘Right.’

‘We will also be questioning him with regard to a further ten victims.’

‘Ten?’ Radcliff spluttered.

He unzipped his briefcase and took out his fountain pen from his breast pocket. He noted the time on a small Gucci notepad. ‘You are holding him here at Queen’s Park?’

‘Yes.’

‘In discussing these allegations with my client, I will require some indication of the reason why you feel it is necessary to detain him.’

Langton flipped open one of the row of files he had on his desk.

It was a very different Radcliff who followed the custody officer down the stone steps into the holding cells.

Daniels was lying, eyes closed, on the bed.

‘Sorry not to have got here sooner,’ said Radcliff, somewhat subdued. ‘Held up in traffic and I’ve been with DCI Langton.’

Daniels eased his legs down from the bed and yawned.

‘Alan, we can talk here or, if you prefer, I can ask to be allocated an interview room.’

Daniels stood up and stretched. ‘Just get me out of here. Full stop,’ he said softly.

‘I might not be able to do that, Alan. These are very serious allegations.’

Daniels shook his head with impatience, as if he was there for nothing more serious than a parking offence.

‘I’ll ask for an interview room.’ Radcliff sniffed with distaste. The cell smelled of urine and disinfectant. ‘I can’t stand these places. They’re claustrophobic.’

Meanwhile, the team waited in the incident room. There was yet more delay as Daniels and his brief were taken to an interview room, where the two conferred in hushed voices. At half past ten, Radcliff asked the uniformed officer outside the room if he could speak to Langton. He seemed controlled, considering the seriousness of the allegations, but was also very pale.

Anna had not yet had an opportunity to speak in private with Langton. When coffee and sandwiches were brought to his office in lieu of breakfast, Anna took the tray from Moira, offering to take it to him. When she opened the door, Langton looked up, irritated by the interruption.

‘Anything you need?’ she asked.

‘Nope, just some peace and quiet.’

When Langton appeared ten minutes later, looking clean cut and smart in a grey suit and white shirt, the room fell silent.

‘OK, everyone, we’ll be starting our interrogation of Daniels at eleven o’clock sharp. I’ve earmarked the files I will require at this time.’ You could feel his energy. His eyes were sparkling. ‘You’ll have to stand by as the press is screaming. I’ve issued a press release to say we are holding Daniels. The phones are going to be hopping.’

When he had finished, Anna watched him conferring with other members of the team. He could hardly keep still; he was pacing around and wisecracking.

According to Anna’s watch, it was ten minutes to eleven when she bumped into him in the corridor. ‘The brief has said he’s ready,’ she volunteered. ‘They took Daniels back to the cells.’

‘Good. Give them the signal to bring him up. It’s interview room two.’

‘Yes, sir.’

As she walked past him, he caught her hand. ‘Did you get something from me?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’ She smiled at him.

‘You want in on the interrogation?’

‘Well, er, yes, if it’s possible.’

He touched the sun patch on her shoulder. ‘OK. It’ll be Lewis and you. Switch at half time with Barolli, so his nose isn’t too out of joint.’

‘Thank you.’

He checked his watch, then looked at her with a soft smile. ‘Let’s get on with it, then.’

At the newsstands, the first issue of the Evening Standard had on its display board: ‘Film Star Held For Murder’. The front page carried a picture of Alan Daniels. Next to his photograph was one of Melissa Stephens. Barolli had contacted her parents the night before to give them advance warning.

Flanked by two uniformed officers, Alan Daniels was led along the corridor towards interview room two. Jean had been hovering on the staircase for ten minutes in order to get a good look at him. When he passed her, he looked up momentarily to see her startled, flushed face before she quickly looked away. She hurried back to the incident room.

‘I’ve just seen him,’ she whispered to Moira.

‘You were out there long enough,’ Moira said dryly. ‘What did he look like?’

‘He is much better-looking in real life than on the big screen. He’s got these amazing eyes, Moira. And he’s got on this blue shirt that makes them look a really vivid blue.’ She blushed. ‘He looked straight at me.’ She bent close to Moira. ‘Where’s Travis?’

Moira murmured, ‘She’s in there with them. Barolli’s pissed off.’

Jean sneaked a glance at him. Then she whispered something to Moira, who gasped.

‘Two dozen?’

Jean whispered. ‘Girl in the radio control told me. Red ones.’

‘You are kidding me?’

‘He sent them to her yesterday afternoon.’

Barolli looked over at them. ‘What you two gassing about?’

‘Nothing,’ Moira said, going back to her work.

Jean went to her desk and sat down. The two women exchanged conspiratorial nods.

From a seat by the door, Anna watched Langton and Lewis who sat together opposite Daniels and his brief. Daniels’s hands were clasped in front of him, resting on the table. The tape was running and the video camera had been turned on. Langton selected the first file. He took out a photograph and placed it face down on the table.

‘Do you, Mr Daniels, admit that you owned a pale blue 1971 Mercedes 280SL.’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you arrange for this vehicle to be crushed at Wreckers Limited on the eighth of February of this year?’

‘Yes.’

‘Could you look at the photograph, please, and tell me if you recognize these seats?’

Anna leaned to her right a fraction to watch Daniels’s reaction. He cocked his head to one side and shrugged.

‘Could you please answer the question?’

‘They’re car seats.’

‘This is a receipt from Wreckers Limited, showing payment for the car seats in the photograph in front of you. They were bought after being removed from your Mercedes and they were subsequently taken to Hudson’s Motors in Croydon.’

‘If you say so.’ Daniels showed not a flicker of interest, but remained relaxed, his hands still resting on the table.

‘So, you agree that these seats are from your Mercedes?’

‘I can’t be sure.’

Langton related how the Mercedes dealer who had sold Daniels the car eight months prior to its accident had verified that the seats were from Mr Daniels’s car, being custom made in a very unusual blue leather. They retained a complete logbook copy of previous owners and were able to verify that the seats were from his Mercedes.

‘If you say so,’ Daniels repeated coolly.

‘There is also a serial number on the metal rods of the front right seat, 006731.’

Daniels snapped, impatiently, ‘Well, yes.’

Radcliff touched Daniels’s arm. ‘Mr Daniels paid for his vehicle to be crushed. So it is most confusing to find the seats had subsequently been sold without his permission.’

‘Can we just get on with it? What in God’s name does the fact that those are the seats from my Mercedes have to do with my being held here? If I wanted to crush a brand-new Rolls-Royce, I could afford to do so. What may appear to be wasteful to you was done simply to avoid any inconvenience to myself. I do have considerable wealth.’

Langton took out the photograph of Melissa Stephens. ‘Do you recognize this girl?’

‘No. You asked me this before.’

Langton showed pictures of Melissa’s T-shirt, indicating the missing diamante stone. A fragment of that missing stone had been found trapped in the stitching on the seat of the Mercedes and had been determined by forensic scientists to have come from Melissa’s T-shirt.

‘Can you explain why that fragment was discovered in your Mercedes, Mr Daniels?’

‘Perhaps whoever removed the seats from the wreckers’ yard dropped it.’

‘No. Both seats were wrapped and protected for the entire period they were kept at Hudson’s.’

Daniels leaned back and gave Langton a confident smile. ‘That would just be the word of whoever removed the seats.’ However, the anger in his eyes betrayed him. He was getting rattled.

‘Did Melissa Stephens ever get into your Mercedes?’

‘No! She certainly did not.’

‘Could you please state where you were on the night of seventh February of this year?’

Daniels gave an impatient sigh. ‘I have told you before: I was filming in Cornwall for that entire week.’

‘Although you were on call for that entire week, there were four days you were not required on the set.’

‘I nevertheless remained in Cornwall.’

‘The basement of your property in Queen’s Gate is rented to a John and Carina Hood. Is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘I have here a statement they made, in which they say that you were at home on two of those nights. There is another statement from two members of the film production staff, in which they say that you were not, as you just stated, in Cornwall for the entire period.’

As Langton read the statements, Daniels leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling. When Langton had finished, all he said was, ‘I apologize. I must have been mistaken.’

‘So you were in London on seventh February?’

‘If you say so. However, without my diary in front of me, I really can’t tell you exactly where I was. But my agent might be able to provide details.’

‘His secretary recalls there was a delay in filming due to bad weather and she was granted permission for you to leave Cornwall. You were therefore not required for the four days, from fifth to eighth February.’

Daniels leaned over to whisper to his lawyer, who was jotting down the dates.

‘We will need to check on this,’ Radcliff said.