Land Rites (Detective Ford) by Andy Maslen (best ereader for manga TXT) 📕

would float if you put them both into the water,’ Ford said.

‘That’s right.’

‘How did you stop Owen from floating, Joe?’

‘What?’

‘When the farmer found him, he was at the bottom.’

‘Not following you.’

‘Let me try again. Bodies do sink to begin with. But then they float. Owen didn’t. How did you ensure he stayed down?’

‘Like I said, I’m in this flashback. It’s all a blur.’

Ford frowned, made a show of consulting his notebook. ‘Sorry, Joe – that’s what you said when you killed Tommy.’

Rowbotham leaned over again and offered Hibberd more murmured advice.

‘It affects my memory. My PTSD. When Long went for my gun, it brought it all back.’

‘So you’re saying you had a blackout then, as well?’

‘Yes.’

Jools leaned forward. Ford caught the movement and let her take over.

‘You know, I met quite a few people in the army who had PTSD. Some after I left, too.’

‘And?’ Hibberd said, crossing his arms.

‘I think you’re lying. You see, real sufferers of PTSD, they do have memory problems. But they’re the opposite of the ones you’re describing,’ she said. ‘They can’t help reliving the traumatic episode. Every single detail. The memories don’t fade with time like normal ones do. They stay as fresh as if they were happening right then. I’m surprised you’re saying it caused blackouts and memory lapses for fresher events.’

Ford knew that it was perfectly possible for PTSD to work like that. But as a non-sufferer, Joe might not. How would he react?

Joe looked at Rowbotham, who went through his murmuring routine a third time. He stared at the table as he listened, nodding.

Then he looked back at Jools. ‘You are not a qualified person to pronounce on my medical history or the particular symptoms of my condition.’

Ford thought Rowbotham could have a career as a stage ventriloquist if he ever tired of the law. He didn’t believe a word of what Joe had said. It was obvious the two of them had cooked up the PTSD line between them. Maybe at Martival’s suggestion. Had they discussed how to use it in Hibberd’s defence?

‘Let’s go through the sequence of events again,’ he said. ‘After shooting Owen Long dead in self-defence and dumping his body in the River Ebble, you murdered Tommy Bolter in cold blood while in some kind of trauma-induced fugue state. Then you chopped his body up into an unspecified number of pieces and dumped them in a badger sett. That about it?’

‘Yes. As I said.’

‘Where did you chop him up and what did you use to do it? Your place?’

‘I can’t remember, can I?’

‘I thought you said you could remember.’

Joe looked panicky. His eyes flitted round the interview room as if he might find an answer scrawled on the grimy paintwork.

‘Let me help you, Joe,’ Ford said. ‘Did you do it at the manor house? An outbuilding?’

‘I can’t remember!’

‘Well, where then? It must have made a hell of a mess.’

Hibberd folded his arms. ‘I. Can’t. Remember.’

Ford decided on a change of direction.

‘Did Tommy know you were in a relationship with Gwyneth Pearce?’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Gwyneth.’

Hibberd groaned and shook his head. ‘I’m not in a relationship with her.’

‘I saw you together at the inquest.’

Hibberd shook his head. ‘I’ve been seeing her sister, Tess, if you must know. She’s more my age. And my type. Sensible head on her shoulders. She’s ill, though, so she asked me to go with Gwynnie to the inquest to look after her.’

‘Why did Gwyneth tell me you and she were involved?’

‘Why don’t you ask her? She’ll make up some lie, but do you want the truth?’

‘Go on.’

‘Gwynnie hates it if Tess has something she doesn’t. She probably hoped word would get back to Tess to make her jealous. The girl’s a fantasist.’

Inwardly questioning Gwyneth’s reliability as a witness, but not his own conviction that Hibberd wasn’t the killer, Ford smiled and closed his notebook. Jools did the same, following his lead.

Ford closed the interview, saying Hibberd would remain in custody and he would see him again ‘before too long’.

He left Hibberd with Rowbotham.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Hannah came to see Ford in his office immediately after the interview.

‘I think you’re right about Joe. I watched the interview on the monitor. He’s lying.’

‘I could tell he was lying, but I didn’t hear him avoiding contractions in his speech. You said to watch for that as a possible tell.’

She pointed to a chair. ‘May I?’

‘Go ahead.’

‘That is only one of a number of tells. He also switched between extremely detailed explanations for parts of his behaviour and then falling back on his claim of PTSD-induced amnesia.’

‘Didn’t ring true to you?’

‘No. It did not. In fact I saw a man willing to agree to scenarios suggested by the interviewer, i.e. you, without being able to supply details that should have been burned into his cerebral cortex.’

‘Like cutting a man up but not being able to say how, where or into how many pieces until I helped him out?’

She smiled. ‘Yes, exactly.’

‘What about when he mentioned dating Gwyneth’s older sister? Was that a lie?’

Hannah looked away from him on the final word. A pink tinge had crept into her cheeks. Odd. He waited until she faced him again, though he noticed she was having trouble meeting his eye.

She shook her head. ‘No. You were—’ She blushed furiously. ‘I mean, he was telling the truth. I’m sure of it. When you resume the interview, concentrate on the PTSD. Ask him about his symptoms. What are they? When did they start? How does he feel before, during and after an episode? What does he think triggered it?’

She continued speaking and Ford frantically scribbled notes. When she’d finished, he looked up. ‘Thanks. That’s about a million times more useful than Olly’s half-baked amateur psychology.’

She nodded and got up to leave. ‘More than anything else, Olly wants to impress you,’ she said at the door. ‘But he is an amateur. I am a professional.’

He watched her go. Something had spooked her about Hibberd. But Ford didn’t have time to ponder the