‘Why the hell didn’t she leave him? Would you stay with a man who dominated you as much as he did with Carla?’
Holly laughed. ‘There isn’t a man alive who I’d allow to dominate me. Let them try, is what I say. Let them try.’ She winked at him, wiggled her hips and waltzed out of the office.
His heart beat a little faster.
24
Tom had deliberately arrived early at Graham Andrews’ home accompanied by Matt York. Matt had been the earliest in the briefing room, so had jumped at the chance of a trip out with his DI. He was a little surprised at going out immediately, but as DI Fowler explained, it wrong-footed people to feel under attack at eight o’clock.
‘Mr Andrews, I need a quick word, please.’
Graham opened the door without speaking, clutching a mug of tea in his hand.
‘Kitchen?’ Tom asked. Andrews nodded.
Tom sat down at the table, Matt followed instructions and remained standing.
Graham’s face was expressionless. Inside he felt intimidated, a feeling quite new to him. He couldn’t see the young kid standing behind him, but Graham was facing Fowler, and Fowler had a non-smiling face. A serious unblinking face.
Graham tried for nonchalance. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘We need a little help, sir. A bit of information, you might say.’
‘I’ll try. I’ve told you about Tina, and I can’t think of anything I might’ve not remembered to tell you.’
‘It’s not about Tina Jackson. Information has come to light that on 8 June 2017 there was a rifle in this kitchen.’ Fowler spoke bluntly, leaving no doubt in Graham’s mind that answers would be required.
Graham’s face was no longer expressionless. It was red, mottled in anger; his mouth turned down as his thoughts raced, trying to come up with answers that would satisfy the DI staring at him from across the table, and answers that would make the young kid take the step back that he’d taken forwards.
In the end, all Graham said was, ‘What?’
‘Oh, I think you heard me, and I think you certainly understood me, Graham. On 8 June 2017 you had a rifle in this kitchen. We have questions, obviously, but would prefer you to tell us in your own words why you had that rifle, and where it is now. Please bear in mind we have a degree of information already on this, and I would hate to see you in a cell overnight while we investigate a different story that might come out of your mouth.’
Graham stood and leaned on the table.
Matt took another step forward and spoke quietly. ‘Sit down, sir.’
‘Or what?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
Graham thought about it, realised the lad was probably twenty years younger, and sat down, staring at Fowler and trying to kill him with his thoughts.
It didn’t work.
‘The rifle, Graham?’
‘You got a Ouija board then?’ he asked, trying to buy some time. ‘Because the only person who knew about that was Carla. So come on, you communicating with spirits now?’
‘The rifle, sir, or would you rather we continued this conversation in an interview room?’
Graham took a sip of his tea, now cold. ‘I have no idea if you’re right about the date, but I think I know what you’re talking about. There was a rifle. I suspect it was something kids had been messing about with, because I found it stuffed into the bush at the bottom of the garden. You want to see which bush?’
Fowler stood. ‘Yes, please.’
All three of them went out the kitchen door, across the small covered patio and followed the crazy-paved path down to the end of the garden. It backed on to the playing field, as so many of the houses on the small private estate did.
Tom could see the fluttering of the last remnants of the crime scene tape left from the discovery of Tina Jackson’s body, and it occurred to him how close this house was to it. And Graham Andrews’ alibi was that he had been at Kenny West’s house…
One step at a time, they needed to sort out what had happened to the elusive rifle.
Graham pushed aside the huge blue blooms on the hydrangea and Tom leaned in. ‘It was in there? How the hell did you see it?’
‘If it hadn’t broken off a few flowerheads as they pushed it in, I wouldn’t have seen it. It’s a pretty dense bush, but it was in a mess, and Carla wouldn’t have allowed that, she loved her garden, so I knew something had happened. It turned out to be a bloody rifle.’
They headed back up the path, but not before Tom had a further look across the playing field.
Once more at opposite sides of the table, Tom waited for Graham to tell more of the rifle’s story. Tom had no intentions of prompting him.
‘Carla had taken the kids to school, and I assumed she was going straight on to work. She didn’t, she came back here and saw the gun. I know it’s the wrong word to use in view of the subject, but she went ballistic. Screamed at me, so I took her to show her the bush, but I knew she wasn’t convinced. Anyway, she put the washer on, and buggered off to work.’
Graham paused for a moment, as if lost in memories.
‘I got ready for work, didn’t have to be in till ten, and I took the gun out to the car in a black plastic bag. My intention was to drop it in at Moss Way on my way home, because I knew I’d probably have to fill in forms and suchlike as it was a gun, and I had a meeting at ten fifteen I couldn’t miss.’
So far plausible, Tom thought, still saying nothing.
‘I opened the boot, placed the gun in it, then realised I’d left my briefcase with the file I needed for my meeting on the kitchen table. I came back in, grabbed the briefcase, locked up and went to my boot. The lid was still up, but the rifle had gone.’
‘Gone?’ The plausibility was no longer in play.
‘Gone. No black bag, no gun, nothing. I saw nobody, there wasn’t a soul around, so I went to work. When Carla asked, I said I’d handed it in. This is the first time it’s cropped up since that day.’
‘You never thought, Oh dear, my wife has been killed by a rifle, perhaps I’d better tell the police I have a connection to a rifle? You have a selective mind, don’t you, Mr Andrews. You only spoke of Tina Jackson once you realised we would find out you had an affair with her…’
‘I didn’t have an affair,’ Graham interrupted.
‘Yes you did. Don’t call it a quick screw to salve your conscience. That doesn’t work. In court it will be referred to as an affair.’
‘In court? But… I have kids!’
‘Yes. They’ll be really proud of their father, won’t they?’ Tom stood. ‘That’s all for today, Mr Andrews. If we need to talk to you again on this or any other subject, it won’t be here, you will be brought into Moss Way in one of our cars. Maybe you need to have a think about anything else you possibly haven’t told us, yes? Oh, and on another subject, the coroner has released Carla’s body, so will you get in touch with your preferred funeral director, and they will help you organise the funeral. I shall be talking to Mr West later and giving him the same information.’
Graham remained seated, staring at Tom intently. ‘Bastard.’