فصل 10

As her car moved quickly through the traffic, Tennison listened to the reports on the car radio.

Detective Oakhill reported George Marlow’s and Moyra Henson’s movements. The suspect is leaving the taxi with Henson. They’re going into Great Portland Street Station. Now they’ve separated. She’s gone down to the trains and he’s coming out of the north side of the station.’

Haskins interrupted. ‘I can see him! I’m following him. He’s getting into another taxi.’

‘We’ll go straight to Euston Station,’ Tennison said. ‘See if we can find him there.’

George Marlow leaned in at the taxi window to speak to the driver and pointed towards Euston, but when he got into the taxi it turned left towards Camden Town.

A car moved in behind the taxi and followed it. Muddyman reported back on the radio.

‘We’re following him. He’s turned back towards Euston Road.’

The black taxi drove down a narrow street and reached the corner of Euston Road. The traffic was heavy and the taxi slowed down. Marlow immediately jumped out and ran into a shop.

‘This is Muddyman. Marlow’s left the taxi; it is now empty. Repeat, the taxi is empty.’

A young man on a bicycle slowed down by the side of the pavement. He spoke quietly into a radio.

‘I’ve got him. He’s going down Euston Road again.’

On the opposite side of the road, Muddyman had left the police car and was following on foot.

Oakhill nearly lost Moyra Henson in the station, but he managed to get on the same train before the doors closed.

He walked through the train until he was standing close to her. Moyra was staring out of the window of the train. She did not know that Oakhill was following her.

Amson looked at a map. ‘He could be heading for Euston Station or King’s Cross Station.’

‘Just a minute,’ Tennison said. A message came through on the radio.

‘Marlow’s jumped on a bus . no, he’s jumped off it again. he’s behind King’s Cross Station.’

‘There are garages behind the station,’ Amson said. The voice came over the radio again. ‘Suspect has gone into a cafe.’

‘What’s he doing?’ Tennison asked angrily.

D C Jones was checking out the beauty shops where Moyra had worked. He spoke to the owner of one shop and showed her a picture of Karen Howard.

‘Have you ever done this girl’s nails?’

The woman looked at the picture and shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I do lots of people.’

‘Look at her again. She was found murdered on the fourteenth of January.’

‘January? I wasn’t here in January. I was on holiday and my friend was working here.’

‘What’s the name and address of your friend?’ Jones asked.

The cafe was very small. George Marlow stood at the counter drinking coffee. When the only other customer in the cafe left, Marlow spoke to the owner.

‘Can I have the keys, Stav?’

Stavros pulled a box out from beneath the counter. ‘I haven’t seen you for a while, John,’ he said. ‘Have you been away?

‘Yeah,’ Marlow said. ‘How much do I owe you?’

Moyra Henson changed trains twice and finally came out at Oxford Street. With Oakhill following her, she walked from one shop to the next, looking through windows at the clothes and shoes.

A message came through to Tennison from Jones.

‘I’ve found the shop where Moyra was working in January. Karen used to come here to get her nails painted. And when Moyra worked here, Marlow used to meet her after she finished. If Moyra did Karen’s nails, Marlow could have seen her when he came to the shop, and found out her name.’

‘Did you hear that?’ Tennison asked Amson. ‘George could have found out all the girls’ names if they were customers of Moyra’s.’

‘So she knew what he was doing?’

‘Looks like it.’

Tennison told Oakhill to arrest Moyra and take her back to the police station.

Another message came through. ‘I’ve got Marlow! He’s just passed me. He’s walking towards the garages on Battle Bridge Road.’

‘Yes!’ Tennison shouted. ‘He’s going to the garages. I knew it! I knew it!’ She gave her orders over the radio. ‘Everybody stay back. Don’t frighten him. Stay where you are until we’re ready to get him.’

The team closed in around Marlow. He did not see them, did not realise that the mechanic bending over an old car, the man on the bicycle carrying a ladder, the two people in the van which drove past, were all police officers.

George Marlow reached the corner of the road where it ran beneath the railway lines. He paused, looking around carefully to see if anybody was following him.

‘Don’t move,’ Tennison instructed over the radio. ‘Let him get inside the garage before you grab him.’

Marlow walked slowly, turning the key around his finger. He approached a garage which looked as it nobody had used it for years.

Tennison’s voice was quiet. ‘I want him to use the keys, everybody wait. wait.’

After another long look around, Marlow chose one key and put it in the lock of the garage door.

‘He’s going in!’ Muddyman whispered. ‘He’s opening the door.’

The door opened and Marlow stepped inside. Tennison shouted, ‘Go! Go! Go!’

Police cars screamed into the street. Rosper, Caplan, Lillie and Muddyman ran from their hiding places and surrounded Marlow. Rosper, the first there, grabbed him by the shoulders, almost tearing the coat off him as he dragged him from the door. All the officers wanted to get Marlow and they handled him roughly.

Tennison’s car arrived. She was about to get out when she hesitated, to give the officers a chance to finish the arrest. At that moment, for no more than a few seconds, she saw another side to the character of her suspect.

Marlow seemed unconcerned at being arrested. In fact, he was unnaturally calm. He looked at Rosper and Lillie, and Tennison could see by the expression on his face that he was angry with himself.

‘You. the painter near my house!’

He had not suspected they were police officers; he had trusted them. He had been foolish, made a mistake. That was why he was angry.

Moyra Henson came out of a clothes shop carrying a large bag. Oakhill and Woman Police Officer Southill came up behind her.

‘Moyra Henson, I would like you to come with us to the police station.’

Moyra swung her bag to hit Southill in the face then kicked at her, screaming that she wanted to be left alone. Her screams echoed down the street. Suddenly she stopped and put her hands over her face.

‘Please leave me alone! I just want to be left alone. Don’t touch me. I’ll come with you, just don’t touch me.’

She allowed herself to be led to the waiting police car.

The garage was very big. Water came through the roof forming pools on the floor. The far end was dark. Near the centre of the garage was a large, covered shape.

‘Watch where you stand,’ Tennison ordered. ‘Are there any lights?’

Someone switched on the lights. Tennison approached the middle of the room. She raised the covers.

‘Well, we’ve got the car! There’s no radio in it. I want this car checked over for evidence.’

Amson was walking towards her. She stepped back, knocking in to him. As she turned to tell him to be careful, she looked past him to the far end of the garage.

‘Oh, God,’ she whispered. ‘This is where he did it.’

On the wall were heavy chains and a collection of sharpened tools and knives.

‘Who will you question first?’ Kernan asked Tennison.

‘Moyra. She was lying when she said Marlow was with her on the night Karen was murdered.’

‘Right, Jane, and. well done!’

‘Not done yet,’ she replied. ‘Not yet.’

Moyra sat smoking a cigarette. Her lawyer was beside her. Tennison could feel the change in her; Moyra was afraid.

Tennison spoke to Moyra’s lawyer. ‘Mr Shrapnel? You know that we haven’t arrested Moyra yet, but she’s agreed to help us by answering some questions.’ The lawyer nodded.

For the first time since entering the room, Tennison looked straight at Moyra.

‘At twelve forty-five today, we entered George Marlow’s garage in King’s Cross. We found a brown Rover car there. When I spoke to you last, you said you didn’t know where the car was. Is that true?’

‘I didn’t know anything,’ Moyra said. ‘I thought it was stolen.’

‘You also said that George came home at ten-thirty on the night of the thirteenth of January.’

Moyra nodded.

‘When I interviewed you, you said that you didn’t know any of the girls who were murdered.’ She put down a picture of Della Mornay. ‘You and Della Mornay were in court together in 1971, charged with prostitution.’

Moyra did not react. Tennison put down another photograph.

‘Karen Howard was a customer at the shop in Covent Garden where you worked in January.’

Tennison put down two more photographs.

‘Moyra, look at these. If you don’t want to look at Della, then look at Karen. George called out to her, offered to take her home in his car. He took her back to the garage and he murdered her. But first he cut her and beat her and tied her body to chains on the wall. Look at her, Moyra!’

Slowly Moyra picked up the photographs. She stared at each one, then covered the one of Karen’s body with her hands.

‘Would you get the men to leave, just the women stay.. . I won’t talk in front of them.’

Amson led Shrapnel out of the room. Moyra began to speak.

‘I didn’t know Della, I didn’t even remember her from 1971. But I did her nails. she came in sometimes if one was broken and I fixed it for her.’

Tennison nodded. Moyra did not really want to talk about Della, that was not why she wanted the men to leave the room. There was something else. Moyra sat forward and spoke very quietly.

‘He. did it to me once,’ she whispered. ‘He made this thing. with rope and chains to tie me up. It hurt me. He said it made sex better. I didn’t like it. I wouldn’t do it again.’

She hung her head. ‘I didn’t know. I didn’t know. God forgive me, I didn’t know.’

Moyra put her face in her hands and began to cry.

Amson and Muddyman were leaning against the wall outside the room when Tennison opened the door.

‘George Marlow was home by ten-thirty that night but he went out again at a quarter to eleven. She doesn’t know what time he returned.’

Tennison stood very straight, head up, eyes bright. ‘We’ve got him,’ she said quietly.

In the garage at King’s Cross, officers examined the car and took photographs. Jones and Burkin were looking inside a cupboard.

‘Look at this!’ Burkin said. He held up some rubber gloves. They found clothes - shirts, trousers and coats, all clean and wrapped in plastic bags.

The two men examined the floor.

‘There’s blood here. and this looks like skin. God, the smell!’

Burkin found a handbag. Inside there was a purse.

‘It’s Karen Howard’s.’

Jones did not understand how it happened. One moment he was doing his job, looking at the evidence, and the next he was crying like a child. He stood there unable to stop the tears streaming down his face.

Burkin put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Go and get some coffee, OK?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know what made me get like this.’

‘It’s OK. We all go through it, Dave,’ Burkin said.

Tennison switched on the tape machine and began talking.

‘This is Chief Detective Officer Jane Tennison. Also present are Detective Terence Amson and Mr Arnold Upcher. We are in room 5-C at Southampton Row Police Station’ The date is Thursday the first of February 1990. The time is four- forty five pm.’

She nodded to Marlow. ‘Please give your full name, address and date of birth.’

He sat forward and spoke into the machine. ‘George Arthur Marlow, twenty one High Grove Estate, Maida Vale. Born in Warrington, eleventh September 1951.’

‘Do you understand why you are under arrest?’

‘I guess so.’

‘We have arrested you as a suspect for the murders of Karen Howard and Della Mornay. Do you understand?’ Tennison asked.

‘I’m not guilty.’ Marlow turned and looked at Upcher.

‘Please tell me what happened when you met Karen Howard on January thirteenth.’

‘I didn’t know her name, I was told her name later,’ Marlow began. ‘She approached me. I asked her how much she wanted. We had sex and I paid her. I didn’t know her, I’d never met or seen her before. Then I took her back to the station.’

‘What about the cut on her hand? You said she cut it on the car radio.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘We now know there is no radio in your car.’

Marlow did not react to her words. ‘I was home at ten- thirty.’

‘What time did you next leave the house?’

‘I didn’t. I watched television with my wife.’

‘Your wife told us that you left the house again at fifteen minutes to eleven. She can’t remember when you came back, but you returned without your car. She says that your car wasn’t stolen from outside the house.’

‘She’s wrong! My car was stolen, I never went out again.’

‘You say that you didn’t know Karen Howard?’

‘Yeah, I’d never met her before that night.’

‘Moyra admits that she knew Karen - she did her nails at a shop in Covent Garden. You were there at the time and spoke to Karen. Is that true?’

‘No.’ Marlow shook his head.

‘You also said you didn’t know Della Mornay. Moyra says that you did.’

Marlow sat back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘I don’t believe you. You must have made Moyra say that. She’s scared of you - I’m not!’

The team were waiting in the meeting room. Jones asked, ‘How’s the boss? She must be exhausted.’

Burkin shook his head. ‘It’s taking a long time.’

Marlow looked tired. ‘How many more times do I have to tell you?’

‘What happened this morning?’ Tennison asked.

‘Somebody called me, didn’t give his name. He said he’d seen my car on the television and he knew where it was. At King’s Cross.’

‘He told you your car was in a garage at King’s Cross? You were seen unlocking the doors.’

He answered angrily. ‘The man on the phone said I could get the keys from the cafe. I got the keys but I didn’t find my car because just as I opened the door, the police jumped on me! I don’t know why I have to keep telling you this.’

Tennison showed no sign of impatience as she said, ‘The man in the cafe said he rented the garage to a man called John Smith. He also cleaned your clothes for you, didn’t he?’

Marlow shook his head. Tennison continued, ‘Come on, George, how did you get Karen into Della’s apartment? Where are the keys? You knew the place was empty, didn’t you? You knew because Della was already dead.’

‘I’m not saying any more,’ Marlow said. He turned to Upcher. ‘Tell her that’s enough! I want to go home.’

‘That isn’t possible, George,’ Upcher said quietly.

‘I want to see Moyra! I want to go home!’ Marlow was getting very angry.

‘We can have a fifteen minute break,’ Tennison said. ‘You can’t see Moyra.’

Suddenly Marlow stood up. ‘This is a mess, isn’t it? All right, I did it.’

Upcher jumped to his feet. Tennison sat and stared at Marlow, then she said, ‘Could you repeat that?’

Marlow closed his eyes. She could see every line of his handsome face. He wet his top lip with his tongue, then he opened his eyes. Tennison recorded every movement in her mind.

He put his head to one side. Nobody in the room moved, they all looked at Marlow, at his strange, frightening smile.

‘I said I did it.’

There was nothing else to say. Marlow seemed completely comfortable.

Eventually Tennison spoke, ‘Please sit down, George.’

She watched him carefully as she asked, ‘What did you do?’

He counted his fingers as he spoke the names. ‘Karen, Della, Angela, Sharon, Ellen and.’ He screwed up his eyes, trying to remember, ‘and Jeannie. That’s right, Jeannie.’

George Arthur Marlow had just admitted killing six women.