‘I suppose I should have expected this,’ he spat. ‘Putting a woman in charge.’
Kate flared with anger and she slammed both hands on the desk, standing and leaning towards him. ‘That is enough, Mr Emerson. You have no idea how hard my team have been working on this case over the past week, how much time with their own families they have given up to work tirelessly on this investigation. When the victim’s father lies about his whereabouts on the night his daughter went missing it wastes our valuable time and sets off alarm bells. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check that he wasn’t in some way connected to the disappearance.’
Kate took a deep breath and lowered herself back into the chair, knowing she’d overstepped the mark. He stared wide-eyed back at her, clearly not used to having people stand up to him.
Kate offered out her palms passively. ‘It is none of my business who you choose to carry on with behind your wife’s back. I’m not a marriage counsellor, I’m a detective. From what I’ve been told, Miss Oliphant has corroborated that you were with her all evening, and given what’s happened this morning, I’m inclined to accept that you had no involvement with Daisy’s disappearance. I think it’s best if we both draw a line under this mess and move on with finding Daisy.’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘What happened this morning?’
‘We’ve made an arrest, but I can’t discuss anything with you until we’re sure we’ve got it right and all the evidence stacks up. I promise I will be in touch with you and Val as soon as I have something I can share.’
‘The man arrested in Romsey earlier?’
‘Wait, how did—’
‘The radio news reported a large police presence at Mottisfont this morning.’ His hand shot up to his mouth as his brain made irrational calculations. ‘Oh God, was she there? Has he buried her there?’
Kate had already said too much, and wasn’t about to make matters worse by continuing. ‘Mr Emerson, all I can tell you is we have arrested a man this morning in connection with Daisy’s disappearance, but as of now we still do not know where Daisy is. Please don’t read anything into that. We are still treating Daisy as a missing person and striving to do whatever we can to bring her home alive to you.’ She stood, hating herself for the slip. ‘I’ve really said too much already. Please, Mr Emerson, go home and wait for me to contact you.’
Leading him back to the front desk, Kate bumped into Patel as she was heading up the stairs back to the incident room. ‘Jackson’s solicitor has said he’s ready to be interviewed, ma’am. Laura’s setting up the room now.’
Kate upped her pace, determined to get into the viewing suite and see just how their suspect would play it.
46
Kate blew on the top of the coffee that Patel had left for her in the observation room; he was beginning to know her better than she knew herself. On the screen before her, Jackson was holding his face, both elbows pressed into the table, while the grey-haired solicitor next to him idly tapped his fountain pen against his own notepad.
Laura offered Jackson and his solicitor a hot drink, but the solicitor declined for both, muttering how his client was keen to get matters underway as quickly as possible. With the introductions made for the purposes of the recording, Patel kicked off by asking Jackson if he knew why he’d been arrested.
Jackson glanced nervously at his solicitor who gently nodded, a signal to do as instructed. ‘No comment,’ Jackson offered, though it was difficult to hear with his hand blocking his mouth.
‘Please speak loud and clear for the recording,’ Patel reminded him. ‘It’s here for your sake as much as ours.’
Jackson lowered his hand. ‘No comment.’
‘Does that mean you don’t know why you’ve been arrested?’
Another glance at the solicitor. ‘No comment.’
The solicitor leaned forward as Patel was opening his mouth to speak again. ‘I have recommended my client not to comment on any of your questions until you’ve disclosed what evidence you believe you have to connect him to these preposterous accusations.’
‘Is that what you want to do, Mr Jackson?’ Patel pressed, ignoring the solicitor.
Jackson flinched at the sound of his own name and began to nod, before remembering his instructions. ‘No comment.’
‘The thing is, Mr Jackson,’ Patel continued, ‘I need to ask you questions to establish whether you’re the man we believe murdered two innocent people. So, by not answering my questions, it makes it difficult for me to rule you out as a suspect. Do you understand?’
‘No comment,’ said more confidently this time.
‘Okay, for the purposes of clarity, you were arrested as we believe you are responsible for the murder of Petr Nowakowski and Maria Alexandrou. Do you understand what that means?’
‘No comment.’
Patel nodded, aware of how the next few minutes would progress. ‘Did you kill Petr Nowakowski and Maria Alexandrou?’
‘No comment.’
‘Did you know Petr Nowakowski and Maria Alexandrou?’
‘No comment.’
‘Had you met Petr Nowakowski or Maria Alexandrou?’
‘No comment.’
Kate continued to focus on the monitor. The main image was of Jackson and his solicitor, while a smaller view of Laura and Patel occupied the top corner of the screen. Kate was studying Jackson’s body language. She’d observed and undertaken more interviews in her career than she could ever recall, and no two had been the same. When dealing with suspects who had been interviewed or previously charged, the delivery of the ‘no comment’ was often with confidence or ennui, but with first-timers, more often than not, there was fear in their response. Jackson’s shudder every time Patel used his name was telling her a lot. He looked uncomfortable, but that didn’t necessarily confirm guilt or innocence, just that he wasn’t prepared to be interviewed today. Or, of course, it could all be an act; a cover story he’d concocted and was sticking to. She concentrated harder.
Patel made eye contact. ‘You sometimes work at St Bartholomew’s school on Hill Lane, don’t you?’
Jackson’s brow furrowed. ‘No comment.’
Kate leaned closer to the screen. Was that a clue? The mention of the school had clearly triggered something behind those dark eyes, but what?
‘We know you work there, Mr Jackson, because we have your van on their CCTV footage, and your name in the visitor’s book.’
‘No comment.’
‘Why won’t you comment about working at the school? That isn’t a crime.’
A glance at the solicitor. ‘No comment.’
‘You were called to the school last Thursday, weren’t you, Mr Jackson?’
‘No comment.’
‘Why were you called to the school, Mr Jackson?’
‘No comment.’
‘Was it to fix a photocopier?’
‘No comment.’
‘Tell me about your business, Mr Jackson; what do you do for a living?’
‘No comment.’
‘Does it pay well, being an engineer?’
‘No comment.’ Frustration was starting to kick in.
‘I’m pretty good with my hands,’ Patel mused. ‘I love doing a bit of DIY at the weekend. Are you good with your hands, Mr Jackson?’
‘No comment.’
‘I bet you are. I mean, you’d have to be to be an engineer, right?’
‘No comment.’ Delivered through gritted teeth.
Kate smiled to herself, pleased she’d chosen to send Patel in. She’d never known an officer as good at asking the same question a dozen different ways. The repetition and fast delivery could be a useful tool to upset the suspect’s rhythm, particularly when they desperately wanted to reply, but were remaining quiet under their solicitor’s instruction.
‘Did you always want to be an engineer?’
‘No comment.’
‘I imagine if we looked in the toolbox we recovered from the back of your van we’d find screwdrivers, wire cutters maybe, possibly a socket set.’
‘No comment.’
‘What about a power saw, Mr Jackson?’
The furrows in Jackson’s forehead sunk deeper. ‘No comment.’
‘Do you own a power saw, Mr Jackson?’
Jackson was now sitting further forward, growing increasingly worried. Was that a sign?