Chapter Twenty-three
“What do you think, Sean?”
“About Cuthbertson? I’ll know better when we’ve spoken to him, boss.”
They were sitting in Gardener’s office ahead of the interview. As usual, Reilly was dressed in a brown leather bomber jacket and jeans. He emptied the contents of a coffee cup, and then threw it into the bin at the side of the desk.
Gardener was sitting with his hands bridged and his chin resting on them. He’d been reading the scribbled notes submitted by the officers who had interviewed the other shopkeepers in the arcade. “The comments from his colleagues are not very favourable.”
“Go on,” said Reilly.
“The guy who runs the camera shop next door reckons he’s a loner, keeps odd hours, a little strange with his behaviour, rarely socialises. I have the impression he doesn’t like Cuthbertson.”
“We both know there’s nothing wrong with that description, boss. He could be talking about you. But you’re no killer.”
“How do you know?” laughed Gardener. He really appreciated the working relationship he had with the Irishman. Had it not been for Sean Reilly, he doubted very much he would have overcome the effect of Sarah’s death quite so readily. “It’s not that so much, Sean. Battersby reckons he’s quiet and subdued a lot of the time, as if he has things on his mind. Never discusses his private life, leaves the shop at all hours.”
“Did he know why Janine Harper was working late at night on her own?” asked Reilly.
“No. Battersby noticed the lights were on, but he had no idea who was there. He doubted it would be Cuthbertson. Something about his manner doesn’t add up, though,” said Gardener. “I appreciate the death of his assistant would have an effect, but I thought he was too preoccupied.”
“Perhaps he did it, boss. Maybe the silent treatment was a good piece of acting while he thought up an alibi for where he was yesterday.”
“Maybe. According to Battersby he left the shop around four o’clock.”
“Okay, so there’s his opportunity. It must take a good three or four hours to apply make-up to the quality that this man needs. But we still need a motive, and he could have an alibi.”
“Battersby left at six-thirty.”
“Did he see Cuthbertson come back?”
“No, and he didn’t see Janine Harper leaving either,” replied Gardener.
“Did he say anything about their relationship?”
Gardener rifled through the notes in front of him. “No, except that they were total opposites. At times, she could be quite lively. They did have their differences, which appears to have been the usual thing, young versus old. Fresh ideas coming up against aged resistance.”
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Colin Sharp’s head appeared around the side of the door. “He’s cleaned up and ready to talk now, sir.”
“Thanks. We’ll be there in five minutes.”
“There’s something else you ought to know.”
“Go on,” said Gardener.
“There’s a lot of marks on his body.”
“What kind of marks?” Reilly asked.
“Scratches, bites. Bruises.”
“Has he now?” said Gardener. “Are they fresh?”
“They’re recent, but I wouldn’t like to say when.”
Gardener gathered up the notes and returned them to the folder. “Time to go and find out what they’re all about.”
Chapter Twenty-four