Despite the coffee, Manny’s leg was still shaking.
“Anything to say?”
“People take advantage of my good nature, lead me into all sorts of trouble.”
Reilly leaned forward. “Let’s cut the crap, shall we, Manny? You can stop evading questions and giving us neutral answers. The fact is, we don’t believe what you’ve told us. We think you were in Swansea Court on the night of the murder. You see, Robbie Carter’s house was turned over that night, and a number of items were stolen. A lot of little stuff that can easily be sold on.”
“Rather fits your profile,” added Gardener.
“There are more thieves in the area than me.”
“So you admit to being a thief?”
“Not much point denying it, is there? You’ve got my records.”
“But that wasn’t all, Manny,” said Reilly. “Something big was stolen, and Robbie Carter’s wife was brutally murdered.”
“Something big?”
Gardener didn’t answer. He simply stood up, moved away from the table.
The red Fender Stratocaster came into view, resting in a music stand, with the open guitar case leaning on the wall behind.
Manny flinched. His reaction was slight, but enough for Gardener to sit back down and ramp up the tension.
“Do you recognise it, Mr Walters?”
“Sh
ould I?”
“It’s the something big that was stolen,” said Reilly. “Tell me, have you ever seen that machine before in your life?”
“No.”
Not only was Manny’s leg shaking, he continually rolled his hands around, clenching and unclenching them. He was worried, which told Gardener he knew a lot more about the situation than he was letting on.
“You see, Robbie Carter is one very unhappy man,” said Reilly. “Wouldn’t you be? There you are, out earning a crust, working late hours, your wife waiting at home for you. And when you get home, you find your house turned over, all your possessions stolen, including your guitar and your money. The guitar that his late wife bought him. It’s all he has to remember her by. Now, according to rumour, our man Robbie has a bit of a temper, so he does. I wouldn’t like to be in the burglar’s shoes when he finds out who nicked the guitar and managed to kill his wife in the process.”
“How could I have stolen his guitar if he was out working with it?”
“I didn’t say he was out working with it,” said Reilly. “In fact, I don’t remember mentioning his profession.” He turned to Gardener. “Did you?”
“Don’t think so, Sean.”
“So, how do you know what Robbie does for a living? You claim you don’t know him, never heard of him?”
Silence.
“Does the name Baz Ronson mean anything to you?”
“No.”
“So you didn’t sell the guitar to Baz Ronson in the car park of The Black Bull public house in Rawston the day after it was stolen?”
“The day after the house of Robbie Carter was turned over and Jane Carter was murdered?” added Reilly.
“How can I?” said Manny. “I’ve already told you, I’ve never been to Swansea Court and I’ve never seen that guitar.”