IMPURITY by Ray Clark (which ebook reader txt) 📕

The little man gave him a perplexed expression. “What does my being left-handed have to do with anything?”

“Answer the question!”

“Yes, I am. Now, will you please leave? I do have appointments to keep.”

“I appreciate your time, Mr Summers,” Gardener smiled, tipping his hat. “But I’m not happy. I think you’re hiding something. I will be back.”

On the way back to the car, Gardener said to Reilly, “I want a full investigation on that man. I want to know everything he’s done since the day he was born.”

Chapter Thirty-eight

“Have you seen the papers?”

Briggs slammed a copy of The Yorkshire Post down on his desk. The two detectives stared at the headline: “Police Violence!”

It was no less than Gardener expected. As he read through it, the article was filled with details of the murder, uncooperative detectives, and police brutality. The broadsheet had then decided to run an opinion poll, ‘Did the public have a right to know?’ One diligent reporter had also insinuated a link between the Rawston incident and the corpse found within the grounds of St John’s Church.

Briggs glared at Reilly. “Slipped your mind, did it, Reilly? The fact that you’d assaulted a reporter?”

“I didn’t.”

“It’s not what he says.”

“He sells papers.”

“You took his camera away from him,” said Briggs, leaning back in his chair.

“Which isn’t assault,” argued Reilly.

Briggs turned over the front page. “I think the photograph taken here paints a different picture.”

In the shot, Reilly had his hands around the photographer’s throat as they tumbled. “It isn’t how it looks.”

“So you keep saying. How is it, then? ’cause from where I’m sitting, it’s assault.”

“I tried to stop him taking any more photos, and I fell down the steps.”

“Oh, come on, Reilly, even you can do better than that. You’re not exactly known for using kid gloves. Are you really trying to tell me it was an accident?”

“What’s the point in me saying anything? You’ll believe what you want, at the end of the day.”

Briggs turned to Gardener. “What have you got to say about it?”

“I’m with him. You’ve seen the photo, and you’ve obviously made your mind up.”

Briggs stood, knocking his chair over in the process. “There’s a lot of point! I want your version of events. All I’ve had from you two so far is a boat load of trouble, and you’re no nearer to catching the killer. You’ve no idea what’s being used to kill the victims. I have a landlord putting in a claim against us because you wrecked his pub. Now, we have the newspapers claiming police brutality. The Chief Constable is furious. I’ve had him breathing down my neck all bloody morning. So now can you see why I want an explanation?”

Gardener didn’t need the aggravation or the pressure the case was putting on them. He was well aware of how it appeared without Briggs listing his grievances. “I know how bad things look at the moment, but the case is not cut and dried. You’ve seen all the reports. Whichever line of inquiry we take, it’s a dead end.”

Briggs sighed, repositioning his chair before sitting down. “We can’t afford bad publicity. The newspapers could cripple us. Have you any idea of the repercussions a picture like this will have?”

“Of course I have. I’ve been in the force long enough to realize what parasites reporters are, and how they manipulate the public. But I can’t pull answers out of thin air.”

“More’s the pity! Because before long, we’ll need to.” The atmosphere in the room descended into an icy silence before Briggs spoke again. “How did you get on with Summers?”

Gardener was surprised by the question. He’d expected Summers to have placed a formal complaint. Perhaps Briggs was playing his cards close to his chest. “I don’t like him.”

“I didn’t ask whether or not you liked him.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Gardener told Briggs about the interview, how he felt about Summers, and the fact that it was what he didn’t say as opposed to what he did that led Gardener to believe a further investigation of the entertainment agent was necessary.

“So, what now?” Briggs asked.

“It’s time we arrested Sutton.”

“For what?”

“Suspicion of murder. He withheld information from you,” Gardener said matter-of-factly.

Briggs sighed. “Tell me what you know.”

“The landlord of the pub in Rawston said he’d overheard Sutton threatening to kill Plum and Thornwell if he ever saw them in the pub again. Later, he was overheard swearing revenge.”

Briggs held his hands up. “None of which makes him a killer.”

“Maybe not, but he didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Well, he was never going to tell me everything. It was off the record. He was trying to bargain his way out of trouble.”

“That may be, but couple it with Fitz’s information about the syringe, and he’s definitely a suspect. Although Fitz doesn’t know what’s being used, he knows it’s injected directly into the jugular vein.

“The only way you’re going to be able to do that without a major struggle is if you drug the victim first. Or you’re extremely powerful.” Gardener sensed his superior officer’s reluctance to bring in his informant.

Briggs sighed. “Okay. Bring him in. Talk to him.”

Chapter Thirty-nine

Gardener studied Sutton, wondering what made him tick. Covered in tattoos, he weighed well over twenty stone, most of which was a huge beer belly. His face still bore the bruises from his last meeting with Reilly. He didn’t work, he was unsociable, and his main source of income was drug money, according to gossip. Gardener hadn’t seen Sutton’s girlfriend, but the thought alone made him shudder.

“Let’s make it clear,” Gardener started. “You haven’t been arrested. You’re simply here to help with our inquiries. You’re free to leave whenever you want.