The Memory of Blood(93)

‘I have never seen such unprofessional behaviour in my life,’ said Maltby’s lawyer, Edgar Digby, an oleaginous young man with a mane of slicked black hair, a Turnbull & Asser shirt and an air of outraged entitlement. ‘You take my client to a police station and leave her there for collection by your Unit without any explanation of her rights or what’s going on, and now you expect her to cooperate with you?’

‘We had to act quickly in the interests of public safety,’ May explained. ‘Your client is the chief suspect in an investigation involving four deaths. Her explanation for her whereabouts during the times of these events is uncorroborated, and items belonging to her were found at the sites of three of the crimes. I think you’d better let her answer our questions, because any further silence from Ms Maltby is merely going to build the case against her.’

‘My client’s silence is no indication of her guilt. Under British law—’

‘Drop it, Edgar,’ said Ella Maltby. ‘Let’s hear what they have to say.’

‘Robert Kramer was killed last night, and this was found beside his body.’ May opened the plastic bag containing the dummy.

‘Your label is sewn into the back of it.’

‘This is our most popular model,’ said Maltby. ‘We sell them all over the world. Madame Tussauds have around thirty, which they use in background scenes. The New Strand Theatre has two. Let me see.’ She took a look inside the bag. ‘These are supplied naked. Our clients add the clothes.’

‘Dan, get the skirt and jacket off and find out where they’re from,’ said May. ‘In your statement you say—once again—that you were home all evening.’

‘Yeah, I don’t go out much. Is that a crime?’

‘Did you talk to anyone?’

‘No, I was working on some new designs. I don’t email or use the phone when I’m working, it’s too distracting.’

May knew he was on shaky ground. Ella Maltby’s car had not been driven in days. Banbury had found no mud or dirty clothes at her house. There was nothing to indicate that she had left her home in twenty-four hours. ‘Somebody is clearly anxious to place you at the crime scenes,’ he pointed out. ‘Do you have any idea who that might be?’

‘Is this the part where you ask me if I have any enemies?’ Maltby scoffed. ‘No, I don’t to my knowledge. People just dislike me in general. I’m not a sociable woman, but to my knowledge that’s not a punishable offence, either.’

‘We’re going to get nowhere here,’ Longbright whispered in May’s ear. ‘Let her go. Jack can arrange for someone to keep an eye on her.’

‘You’re right,’ May sighed. ‘I’m stuck. How can this have happened? We have four bodies and no investigation. This is humiliating.’

After Ella Maltby’s release had been secured, May went back to his office and sat on the edge of his partner’s desk. ‘I hate to say this, Arthur, but for once I really need one of your crackpot ideas. We’re getting nowhere.’

Bryant looked at him steadily. ‘How much are you prepared to trust me?’ he asked.

‘Right now, I’ll go anywhere.’

‘All right. What do we know about our killer? He’s very angry, and very good at hiding his temper most of the time, but sometimes it erupts and becomes uncontrollable. He lost control with Noah, and again with Kramer himself. That means we might be able to goad him into an admission of guilt. Remember, everything hinges on what took place that first night at the party. What could have happened to make the killer calmly go upstairs and attack a child? And how the hell did he do it, assuming he did and a puppet didn’t just come to life and shake a baby to death?’

‘I don’t know, but I imagine he saw the puppets and they gave him an idea.’

‘I suppose so. Then he followed the idea through, thinking it was a way to rattle Kramer. And now that everything’s behind him, he thinks he’s got away with it. But he can never stop being vigilant, because he knows we’re after him and will stay on his case—at least, for as long as we and the investigation are still open. But it could happen again; he’ll have the confidence to act on his anger, knowing that he managed to deceive everyone before. What we have to do now is lure him out in the open.’

‘How do you propose to do that?’

‘I thought at first we could attend Robert Kramer’s funeral, because I assumed Judith Kramer was going to invite all of his colleagues, but I hear she’s not. It’ll be a small, private family service, and she’s specifically asked for none of us to be in attendance. We can override that, of course, but we’d have to keep a low-key presence.’