‘You seem to be worried about him. Why is that? Was he a close friend?’
‘No, he wasn’t. But I know he hasn’t had a good deal out of life so far. His mother ran out on him. Not like me. I can’t let him get blamed for what he never did.’
‘It’s admirable of you, Mr. Berkley. Michael, isn’t it? What do you think your father will say when he gets to hear about this? He’s not going to be any too happy about it, is he?’
‘I don’t care. I wish to make a statement.’
In answer to his buzzer Kent pressed under his desk, Turner put his head round the door.
‘Ah, Turner. You’d better stay. You may have a solicitor present, Mr. Berkley.’
‘I don’t need one. You can make it as official as you like.’
‘Come along, Mr. Berkley. We’ll take a statement from you now.’
‘Inspector Kent switched on the recording machine. 3pm August 13th in Interview room. Detective Sergeant Turner present. And Inspector Kent interviewing. Name of interviewee. Michael Berkley.’
‘How old are you, Mr. Berkley?’
‘Eighteen next month.’
‘Eighteen in a months’ time. Let’s hope you will have gained more common sense by the time you attain your freedom to vote.’
‘Why won’t you listen to me, Inspector?’
‘Well then. Can you tell me first of all how you did you murder these girls? I want to hear all the details please. And where did you take them before you killed them?’
‘I took them to the Cricket Pavilion.’
‘The Cricket Pavilion, Turner. And how did you manage that, sir?’
‘I have a key. I had a copy made especially.’
‘And now, tell us how exactly did you kill them?’
‘I strangled them with my hands. These hands.’ He held them out. ‘I’m very strong and it was all over quickly.’
‘And can you fill in the details for me, please? Did you attempt to assault them? Wouldn’t they have sex with you? Come on now, don’t be shy.’
Colour flooded his cheeks. Kent felt sorry for him. He was so obviously floundering and struggling to get it right. Turner was making rumbling noises in his throat. He felt uncomfortable and wanted the interview to close. It was a time waster. But what was the real motive behind it? Could he believe that Michael was trying to help Raymond Perkins? If anything it made the case against him more concrete. Why had he come?
‘I didn’t touch them in that way.’
‘Come on now. You don’t drive do you? You don’t know anything about these three murders other than what you’ve heard or read in the newspapers do you, Mr. Berkley?’
‘Yes. No.’
‘If this gets to your father’s ears I don’t think he will be very pleased, young Michael.’
‘No. I suppose not.’ Tears were filling his eyes. His face was crumpling. ‘Will you have to tell him?’
‘Look, if you thought you were helping Raymond Perkins. It’s definitely a No-No. Or was it your father you were trying to help? You had the wrong idea entirely. So give it up. His solicitor will be more help to him than your fake confession. How you thought you could make it stick is beyond me.’
‘Switching off the machine at three-thirty pm. Mr. Berkley is now leaving the interview room.’
‘Good day to you, Mr. Berkley. I don’t want to see you in here again for any reason or I might be tempted to book you for making a public nuisance of yourself.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘What did you make of it, Turner.’
‘I don’t know, guv. He seemed genuinely worried. If it wasn’t because he thinks Raymond is innocent, he must have a darn good reason to try to mess our case up. It must be his father he’s worried about. It’s got to be.’
‘Well, we shan’t ever know now. I’m still not happy about what we’ve got against Perkins. Prints of two girls in the van, but not Yvette’s. Can we make it stick? I ask myself. I suppose he could have got an extra key for the chapel. And Maureen might have met Raymond there occasionally. Despite his preference for the coffin room as a venue. And maybe Roger used the chapel too. Despite his disclaiming that nothing actually happened between them.’
‘All three girls must have been taken there, guv. Who did Maureen think she was meeting? And Yvette. I would say she thought it was Tom Berkley. How did Raymond manage it? If he did - he’s some cool character. And more devious than he appears on the surface.’
57
He knocked at her door. She hadn’t wanted to lie in wait for him. She couldn’t allow him to think that. She put on the kettle.