Blood in Grandpont (DI Susan Holden 2)

‘You do know that Mrs Maria Tull was murdered last night?’

‘’Course I do!’

‘Who told you?’ The quick-fire question came from DS Fox. It was a technique they often employed, changing the line of attack, first one then the other, throwing the interviewee off balance.

‘It was on the news,’ he replied uncertainly. ‘Radio Oxford.’

‘We didn’t release the name to the press until about half an hour ago,’ Holden said mildly.

‘So who the hell told you?’ Fox barked.

Jack Smith shifted uneasily in his chair. ‘Sarah Russell. She’s a friend of Maria, and I rang her about some money she owed me, and she told me.’

‘I see,’ Holden said, nodding slowly, and frowning as if deep in thought. ‘In that case, we’ve only two questions to put to you. The first is, where were you last night between nine and ten o’clock?’

‘I went out to price up a job about eight-thirty. A Mr and Mrs Knight in Harpes Road. Then I went home. About ten, I guess.’

‘Can anyone confirm that you were at home?’

‘My wife works at the hospital as a nurse. She’s on nights this week, so no, there’s no one to confirm when I got home. The Knights will confirm I went to them, of course.’

‘We’ll need their details,’ Holden said, ‘but there is another question. We found a photograph on Maria Tull’s mobile phone. Her husband told us that the photo was of you. Perhaps you can explain it?’ And with that she removed a photograph from the bottom of her thin file and slid it across the table. ‘This is a copy.’

&nbs

p; Jack Smith had been pondering how to respond to this question when it was asked – as he had known it surely would be – but even so he found himself hesitating. Should he tell the truth? And how the hell was he going to square it with his wife if it came out?

‘It was just a bit of harmless fun,’ he said finally, trying hard to sound unconcerned.

‘Really?’ Holden said in a tone that signified disbelief. ‘What do you think, Sergeant,’ she continued, turning to Fox.

‘I doubt Mrs Smith would see it as harmless fun,’ Fox replied instantly. ‘But maybe she’s more broad-minded than my missus.’ Not that Fox had a missus. Not any more.

Smith reacted with alarm. ‘I don’t see what it’s got to do with my wife!’

Fox grinned broadly. ‘It doesn’t,’ he said cheerfully, ‘but if you don’t explain it to our satisfaction, then maybe we’ll have to ask her if she took it and then sent it to Maria as a laugh.’

‘She didn’t,’ he replied quickly. ‘Maria took it.’

‘You were lovers then?’ Holden had taken up the baton again, and leant forward as she asked the obvious and crucial question.

‘We had a fling. A one-off.’

‘And that was when she took the photo?’

‘Shit, aren’t you a smart cookie!’ he snapped back, spitting sarcasm in self-defence.

‘Careful!’ It was Fox who growled the warning, and like a guard dog bristling in defence of its mistress, he half rose from his chair. Holden gestured him down, but her eyes were fixed on Smith. She pointed at the photo. ‘And this one-off took place at her house?’ she continued, her eyes firmly fixed on his face.

‘No. It was a house I was working in. She came round to chase me up about a problem with her shower, and it just happened.’

‘A bit of a ladies’ man, are you! One look at you in your dirty overalls, and they can’t wait to tear them off?’

‘Are you taking the piss?’

‘How many of your clients have you slept with?’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’