Prime Suspect (Prime Suspect (Harper)) (13 page)

They shook their heads in unison, Tennison thought a little too eagerly.

“You mean never? Not just a little grass or speed?”

Lady Antonia twisted her hands in her lap. “Karen didn’t like drugs, hated any of us having stuff in the flat. She wouldn’t touch anything like that.”

“Not even coke? Did she use cocaine?”

“No, honestly. We’ve known each other for years, since school, and she got quite uptight about that sort of thing.”

Tennison sighed. “OK, so what about Michael, she was a virgin as well, I suppose?”

Lady Antonia crossed her long legs and fiddled with the top of her boot. “That was her business, I have no idea what she did in private.”

“Now it’s my business, love. Karen was found in a prostitute’s room, and I have to find out how she got there. Come on, what do you take me for? Are you trying to tell me that four girls, living in the same flat, never even mentioned sex?”

Lady Antonia pursed her lips. “I don’t think you have any right to ask us that sort of question.”

Tennison was getting more irritated by the second. “I have every right, as I said before. Anyway, that’s it for now, but I might need to talk to you all again before you leave. This officer will show you the way back to the canteen, go and have some coffee.”

Lady Antonia faced Tennison. “I am going to complain about the way we have been treated, as if we were criminals. And we don’t want to go back to that awful canteen. Please would you call my father, if you need to speak to us we are perfectly willing, but we have been here for . . . we really . . . I would like to go home.”

Tennison never took her eyes off the girl’s face. The bravado disappeared fast, and Antonia blinked back the tears. “Please, let us go home. We’ve been here for hours.”

Tennison pursed her lips. “Antonia, isn’t it? Yes? Well, all I can do is apologize for keeping you here for so long. You are free to go at any time, but I need to question Michael Hardy. As you all came together, perhaps you’d like to leave together. I’ll order you a car. Your girlfriend has been brutally murdered, we are just trying to find out how she came to be in that efficiency . . . OK? And any assistance you can give us, give me, is really appreciated. So have a cup of tea or coffee, anything, just for a while longer . . .”

She watched the round cheeks flush, and the girl blinked rapidly. Her whole face seemed to be moving, trying to say something, but unable to form the words. Then she burst out, “She was always happy . . .”

Antonia left the room, and Tennison could hear her sobbing outside in the corridor. She felt dirty, her hands were grubby, and she sniffed her armpits then made a quick exit for the locker room. Next was Karen’s boyfriend, Michael Hardy, and though she was sure he was innocent he had to be checked out, eliminated completely. To do that she was going to have to be tough.

The cold water felt good as she splashed it on her face. She washed her hands, scrubbed them, then stared into the soapy water. The killer had used a wire brush on the victim’s hands, scratched them raw . . .

Michael, obviously distraught, was sitting with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. His voice was muffled.

“I can’t believe she’s dead, I can’t believe it . . .”

“You said the reason you hadn’t seen Karen was because you’d had a row, is that right?” Tennison asked him.

“I agreed not to see so much of her—” He stopped, too choked to continue.

“She was murdered, Michael, and we found her in a prostitute’s efficiency apartment. Now, take a look at this photograph and tell me if you’ve ever seen this man, ever seen Karen with him. Come on, Michael, look at the photograph.”

He raised his head and stared at the mug shot of George Marlow. “No, I’ve never seen him.”

“OK, now what I need to know is when you last saw or spoke to Karen.”

He coughed and ran his hands over his ponytail. “I, er, I phoned her, the day before I went to Switzerland. The fifth of January.”

“Did you call her from there? While you were away?”

“No . . .”

“And you came back when?”

“I came home on the thirteenth, a week early. There wasn’t much snow about.”

Tennison sat slightly straighter in her chair. “Did you see her when you got back?”

“No. I went round to her flat yesterday. Miffy said Karen wasn’t at home, they’d presumed she was with me. Then I called her parents’ house. The housekeeper told me Karen hadn’t been home since Christmas, so I rang round a few other friends. When I ran out of places to look for her, I went to the local police station and told them.”

“When was that?”

“Er, first thing this morning. I just said no one had seen her lately.”

“Ah, so we got two separate reports . . . Now, Michael, her car, the Mini. Have you any idea where it might be?”

“No . . .” He thought for a moment. “It wasn’t outside the flat.”

All through the interview, Tennison was aware of a lot of coming and going outside. Faces popped up in the small window, but no one knocked. One of them was the Super, but he waved at her not to bother. She found it all distracting, so it was almost a relief when Michael burst into tears and she was able to pace around the room for a few moments.

Eventually Michael blew his nose in his handkerchief. Tennison sat down again.

“So let’s get back to this argument you had with Karen.”

“It wasn’t really an argument, it was just . . . just that she decided we were getting too involved, she wanted more time to herself. I agreed, but we didn’t argue.”

“But you didn’t like it?”

“No, I wanted to marry her. But she was only . . . she . . .” His eyes filled up and he turned away, shrugging his shoulders helplessly as his voice cracked, “She was only twenty-two years old . . .”

“So, you agreed not to see so much of her. Did you find out if there was someone else?”

“No, she didn’t have anyone else.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know . . . She would have told me if there was something . . . someone else. I’m sorry . . .”

“So you don’t think she had other boyfriends?”

“She had a lot of acquaintances, men friends, but most of them I knew. She didn’t have anyone else, wasn’t seeing anyone else.”

“But you were in Switzerland, maybe she met someone else while you were away?”

He shook his head and looked at the table. Tears trickled down his face and Lillie felt even more sorry for him. The boy kept looking at Lillie as if he could stop Tennison’s stream of questions.

“Did you and Karen have a good sexual relationship?”

Michael’s voice was a whisper. “Yes.”

“Did she like anything . . . unusual? Was she a bit kinky?”

“No.”

“Do you know if she took drugs?”

“She didn’t drink and she didn’t take drugs.”

“Do you?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked you if you take drugs, do you use hash or cocaine?”

“I have . . . but not recently.”

“Did you score it?”

“How do you mean?”

“Did you buy it for yourself? Go out and score from people?”

“No . . . when I say I’ve used . . . I was offered some cocaine once, and grass quite a few times, but I’ve never bought any. Do you mean do I go out to a dealer?”

“Yes?” He shook his head.

“Michael, are you sure? We found Karen in an area where a lot of drug dealers hang out. You sure she wasn’t using anything, or maybe going to get some for you?”

“No!”

“Did she pick up men?”

“
No! No . . .
Karen would never . . . Karen . . .”

He started to sob, hunching his shoulders, and Tennison leaned closer.

“Tell me, Michael, come on. If she was scoring for you it would make sense of where we found her, why we found her!”

Michael stood up, shaking with anger and grief, his face red with frustration. “
No
! She was a sweet, innocent girl, and you’re making her out to be something dirty, something sick! You disgust me . . .”

“Sit down, Michael,
sit down
! Come on, now. You said that on the night of the thirteenth of January you . . .”

He gritted his teeth. “I was at my parents’ house, I went straight from the airport. We had dinner and I stayed the night. I’ve told you this, I’ve told you this three times!”

Tennison closed her notebook. “Yes, you have, and thank you for being so co-operative. If you’d like to have a wash there’s a gents’ just along the corridor, and then DC Lillie will take you up to the canteen.”

He was slumped in his chair, silent. He didn’t look up. She walked to the door.

“You can go, Michael, and the girls are free to go with you. Thank you . . .”

Tennison leaned back and lit another cigarette as Michael followed Lillie along the corridor, standing aside to allow Superintendent Kernan to pass. The Super stopped at the door of the interview room.

“Anything?”

Tennison shook her head. “No,” she replied wearily, “her car might give us a clue, if we can find it. None of them know where it is.”

“Sergeant Otley reckons you’ve got enough to charge him.”

She stood up and faced him. “Detective Sergeant Otley is wrong.”

Kernan shut the door. “What do you want to do?”

She pushed her fingers through her hair. “We have to release him, we can’t hold him any longer. In my opinion we don’t have enough to make it stick . . . Let him go!”

At six-fifteen, Chief Superintendent Kernan left the Commander’s office and spoke briefly to Tennison. He had agreed to the release of George Marlow.

Reluctantly, Tennison went to the interview room and told the men the bad news.

“We will keep at it until we have the evidence to arrest him and keep hold of him.”

Otley, as tired as everyone else, shouted that it was lunacy, Marlow was guilty. Tennison didn’t even attempt to argue, but when Otley stood up in front of everyone, jabbed an aggressive forefinger at her and told her that if Marlow killed again it would be down to her, she snapped. “That’s enough, Sergeant! I’ve taken a lot of flak from you, but I’ve had you right up to here! You start acting like bloody cowboys and this is what happens. This investigation has been a cock-up from the word go. If anyone should be yelling and pointing the finger, it should be me! You all fucked up, so now we take it, we eat it, and start again from scratch. I want us on that bastard night and day. We’ll get him back and we’ll keep him. Now, I don’t know about anyone else, but I need some sleep, so let’s take a break. Tomorrow we’ll reassess everything we’ve got.”

She packed her briefcase and left. Only a few murmured “goodnights” marked her departure, but she was too tired to care.

Burkin and Jones remained at their desks, but the atmosphere in the room was thick with fatigue. Everyone was knackered, but above all, they felt defeated. Marlow had beaten them.

Otley sat for a few moments, devastated. He had been so certain that they had Marlow.

When his phone rang it took him a second to recognize the sound. He answered automatically, then sat bolt upright.

“Yeah, I got that! Thanks, mate, I owe you one!”

He jumped up and ran from the building.

It was drizzling as Tennison unlocked her car. She chucked her case inside and sat for a moment, trying to raise the energy to drive home.

The rain increased to a downpour as she drove slowly out of the car park and past the main entrance to the police station. George Marlow stood there with Upcher, waiting for a taxi. A cab pulled up, and as they stepped from the doorway Marlow spotted Tennison. He ran in front of her car, then to her window. Upcher put out a hand as if to stop him, but he ignored it and tapped on the glass.

“Excuse me . . . Excuse me, miss!”

She did not want to face him, but there was no way out of it. She lowered the window.

“I’d just like to say thank you, I really appreciate it. I knew you’d help me.”

She looked once again into those wide amber eyes. She said nothing, just gave him a stiff nod of her head and raised the window again. She didn’t see Otley run out of the station towards her until he shouted to her. Then he saw Marlow stepping into the waiting taxi and stopped dead. He stood in the rain as the taxi did a U-turn and slowly headed back towards him. As it passed he could see Marlow’s face pressed against the window, smiling.

Otley tapped on the passenger window of Tennison’s car, gestured for her to open the door. He climbed in and shook his head, showering her with water, and wiped his balding head with a crumpled handkerchief.

“Is this important, Sergeant?”

“Yes, ma’am. I just got a call from DS Eastel at Sunningdale, They’ve found another one, about two hours ago. He’s given me the tip because her hands are tied behind her back and she’s been stabbed and beaten. He reckons, from our description, that it’s Della Mornay.”

By the time Tennison and Otley reached Sunningdale golf course it was after eight. They were directed away from the clubhouse towards a crescent of exclusive houses. There were many cars parked at one end, where a narrow private gateway led directly onto a small wooded area at the perimeter of the golf course.

A uniformed officer in a shiny black cape dripped water over their identification as he checked it, then sent them towards arc lights which had been placed around a nearby bunker on which the silhouettes of a few men could be seen. As Tennison drew nearer she could see more men sheltering beneath the trees.

Otley strode ahead, his shoulders hunched against the downpour. The ground was a shifting mud bath and Tennison gave up picking her way among the puddles. Her shoes were already sodden. As she reached the group on the bunker she found Otley already deep in conversation with his friend, DS Eastel.

Eastel shook her hand, then turned to a man taking shelter beneath the trees. “He was walking his dog. The rain must have washed some of the soil away, exposing her arm. The dog made a pretty good job of digging her up. You want to take a look?”

Tennison stared at the dog-owner, who was obviously agog at what was going on. His dog still strained on his lead, barking continuously.

Neither Eastel nor Otley assisted her up the muddy bank and she slithered the last two feet. She clutched Eastel’s arm to stop herself falling.