فصل 02

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فصل 02

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CHAPTER TWO

The interview continued throughout the day.

‘After we had sex, I took her back to Ladbroke Grove and paid her,’ Marlow said. ‘The last time I saw her, she was looking into another car, a red… maybe a Scirocco… I’m not sure what type it was. I thought she’d found another customer.’

‘And then what did you do, George?’

‘I went home.’

‘What time was that?’

‘I can’t remember. Ask Moyra.’

‘Did you know the girl?’

‘I’d never seen her before. Like I said, she just came over to my car.’

Shefford showed him a photograph of Della Mornay.

‘Come on, George.’ Shefford was impatient. ‘Was this the girl?’

‘I can’t remember. It was dark…’

In another room, Moyra was asked the same questions again and again. What time did Marlow come home? Did he go out again? She gave the same answers every time. Marlow came home at 10.30. They watched television and went to bed.

When the police let her go, Detective Officer Burkin was sent back to the house with her. He had orders to collect Marlow’s car, a brown Mark III Rover. He took two officers with him and they drove Moyra home.

There was no sign of the Rover. It was not parked on the street near the house.

‘Someone has probably stolen it,’ Moyra said. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if you took it yourselves!’

It was 11.30pm when Shefford stopped asking Marlow questions. He had twenty four hours to find evidence that connected Marlow with the murder. If he couldn’t find a link, he would have to let Marlow go home.

‘Find Marlow’s car,’ he told Burkin. ‘I want to search it.’

Next morning, Shefford sat at his desk looking through the notes on the case. Otley brought him a cup of coffee.

‘Did Burkin find the car?’

‘No,’ Otley said. ‘It isn’t parked near the house. Moyra says it must have been stolen.’

‘Find it. And Otley, check something for me, will you? There was a girl murdered in Oldham when I worked there. Bring me the information on her.’

‘Do you think Marlow murdered her as well?’

‘Maybe. I want to check it out.’

Otley pulled Della Mornay’s diary out of his pocket. ‘What shall I do with this?’

‘Keep it. I’ll look through it later. I’m going to see the boss and tell him what has happened.’

Jane Tennison arrived at work soon after Shefford. His car was badly parked so it was difficult to find space for her own car next to it.

As she walked into the office, she saw Otley.

‘I hear you’ve got a suspect,’ she said.

‘Yeah. We arrested him yesterday. His DNA matches the killer’s.’ Otley spoke sharply to Tennison. Like his boss, he did not enjoy talking to her. He hated ambitious women.

Later that morning, Tennison went to see her boss, Chief Inspector Kernan, to complain about the murder cases always being passed to male officers.

‘If you’re unhappy at this police station, you can move to another one,’ Kernan said.

‘I don’t want to move. I want to know why Shefford got this case when he was on holiday!’

‘He knew the victim.’

‘So did I! I knew the victim!’ Tennison shouted. ‘I arrested her two years ago.’

Kernan told her again that she must be patient.

He was pleased when she left his office. She was a good officer, but she was a woman and he did not like working with women. He, like Shefford and Otley, believed that crime investigation was better done by men. He would be happy when she left the station and went elsewhere.

Later, Shefford also went to see Kernan.

‘It looks good, John,’ Kernan said. ‘Are you OK? You don’t look too good.’

‘Just tired,’ Shefford replied. ‘We’ve been working on this case all day and all night. We need more evidence but there’s blood on Marlow’s coat. If that matches Della’s blood type, we’ve got him!’

As he spoke, Shefford felt a strong pain in his chest.

Kernan looked at him. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve got - a - pain -‘

Shefford couldn’t breathe. The pain got worse. Suddenly he fell, hitting his head on the corner of Kernan’s desk.

Kernan telephoned for a doctor. Otley tried to help his boss stand up, but Shefford could not move. His eyes were closed.

Tennison heard somebody shouting outside her office. A doctor ran past.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Shefford’s ill.’

Shefford’s heart failed and he died before the ambulance reached the hospital.

Tennison sat in her office. She did not like Shefford but she was sorry he was dead. And now somebody else would have to lead the Della Mornay case.

Kernan called his boss, Geoff Trayner, to discuss the situation. Somebody must take over the Della Mornay case and although neither man liked Tennison they knew she was waiting.

‘The men won’t want to work for her,’ Kernan said, ‘but who else can we use? None of the other senior officers are available.’

‘Right. Put her in charge of the case,’ Trayner said, ‘but watch her carefully. If she does anything wrong, we’ll get rid of her.’

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