‘What, about the divorce?’
This man’s continuing naivety astounded me. ‘No, about the fact that I believe you murdered Sharon Gregory.’
‘Well I didn’t, but I’ll send for my own lawyer, if you think I need one.’
‘That’s entirely a matter for you,’ I said, becoming increasingly frustrated with what I saw as a feigned innocence. ‘However, Julian Reed, I am arresting you on suspicion of murdering Sharon Gregory on or about the twenty-ninth of July.’ And I cautioned him.
‘Am I going to get bail?’ Reed posed the question rather like a small boy asking if he could get down from the dining table. I was utterly mystified by his total lack of alarm at being arrested for murder, and I was beginning to wonder if he actually was innocent. Either that or he was a damned good actor.
‘That’s not in my discretion,’ I said. But I saw no reason why he shouldn’t be bailed; he was too ingenuous to run. That said, it was always possible that he might be tempted to go to Miami. ‘However, I will require you to surrender your passport.’
Without querying why I wanted it, Reed took the document from his pocket and handed it over.
I went upstairs to the chief superintendent’s office and briefly explained the circumstances that had led to my suspecting Julian Reed of murder.
‘It’s essential that I obtain Mr Reed’s DNA, sir,’ I said, ‘and I’d be obliged if you’d authorize the taking of an intimate sample. He has given his consent.’
‘No problem, Mr Brock.’
I handed the chief superintendent the appropriate form and waited while he filled in the details and signed it.
I returned to the interview room and told Dave to go ahead. He produced the necessary kit and took a sample of Reed’s saliva from inside his mouth. Then he escorted him to the custody suite where his fingerprints were taken.
‘What now, guv?’ asked Dave, as we returned to our car.
‘Get that sample of Reed’s DNA off to the lab immediately and the fingerprints to Linda.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘We’ll go back to the office and get Charlie Flynn to do urgent background checks on Reed. And then, this afternoon, we’ll pay a visit to Muriel Reed to see if she confirms this story about a divorce.’
‘I suppose that’ll help … sir,’ said Dave. ‘But his fingerprints were taken by the traffic guys.’
‘Just do it, Dave.’
A surprise in the shape of DI Ken Sullivan of SOCA awaited me when Dave and I got back to ESB. And he brought news that I hadn’t expected.
‘An interesting development, boss,’ Sullivan began, as he seated himself in my office. ‘It’s about Gordon Harrison, one of your suspects in the case of the Sharon Gregory murder.’
‘I think we have our murderer, Ken, so Harrison can be ruled out of it now,’ I said.
‘In more ways than one,’ said Sullivan. ‘He’s been murdered.’
‘Where and when?’ I had a nasty feeling about this.
‘Wandsworth, boss.’
‘Oh, that’s all right, then,’ I said, with a feeling of relief.
Sullivan raised his eyebrows. ‘Any particular reason you should be pleased by that?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘that means the investigation’s down to Homicide and Serious Crime Command South.’
‘Yes, it is.’ Sullivan laughed. ‘They already have a man in custody.’
‘Good, but what’s the SP?’
‘The what?’ queried Sullivan.
‘What happened?’ I asked, realizing that the term ‘SP’ was probably unknown to officers in northern forces.
‘Oh, I see. I’ll remember that,’ said Sullivan, with a grin. ‘I’m slowly getting used to the language of the Met.’
Wait until you meet Kate Ebdon, I thought.
‘We’ve had an observation on Harrison for the last couple of days and he met with a man in a bar in Putney,’ continued Sullivan. ‘There was obviously some sort of falling out, and the next thing our obo team knew was that Harrison had been shot dead. The shooter ran for it, but he was promptly arrested by our chaps. They handed him over to your HSCC guys; an open-and-shut case. He’s a Nigerian called Emedubi Anubi, a known drug dealer. We also arrested Shona Grant, who we’re satisfied was one of Harrison’s couriers. And the day before that, customs officers at Manchester Airport were lucky enough to pick up Harrison’s partner, Krisztina Comaneci, arriving with a statue filled with heroin. Case closed. So, all in all, a good result.’
‘Thanks for that,’ I said, standing up to shake hands with Sullivan. But the murder of Gordon Harrison was of no real interest to me.