“Same type won’t hold up. It’s got to fit exactly,” Anna said.
“But Emerald Turk picked Smiley out of the video lineup.”
“Whose word would you trust, someone like her or a man with a decent job and a family?” Anna sounded impatient.
“But she identified him.”
Anna sighed. “Doesn’t mean diddly squat. She could be wrong. It was nearly five years ago; plus, she admits to only seeing him fleetingly, and if the lawyer gets hold of all that, it’s a no-go. The only chance we might get to keep him here will be if Smiley admits he lied about knowing Margaret Potts, but I don’t think he’s going to fall down like the pack of proverbial cards. He didn’t even after Langton really hammered at him last night.”
Anna went to prepare for the next round of questioning, leaving Mike Lewis feeling irritated. He knew he should have been the one interviewing Smiley with Langton. It hadn’t helped that Barolli, with his usual spoon out, had told him that Langton and Travis were obviously still an item. Mike wandered to the board and noticed that Travis had written “new shoes” beneath the data on Margaret Potts; she’d also underlined it, and he had no notion what it meant.
“Barbara, what’s this ‘new shoes’ that’s been added?”
“No idea. Maybe she’s gonna buy herself a pair.”
Mike went back to his office and sat stewing. Barolli tapped and entered. “You want a coffee?” he asked.
“No. Did Emerald Turk hesitate over identifying John Smiley?”
“Apparently not. She watched the videos twice and then picked him out. Maybe we’ll get more from him after this session.”
“And maybe we won’t.”
“Something’s got to give, Mike; we’ve got front-page coverage in the Evening Standard.” Barolli dropped the paper on Mike’s desk.
“They moved fast,” Mike said, cheered, then: “Yeah, I’ll have a black coffee, after all.”
“Good work on that Swell Blinds stuff,” Barolli said. “Been slap in front of our faces for weeks.”
As Barolli shut the door, Mike looked at the Evening Standard. The dead women’s faces were lined up like a picture gallery, and on the next page was a photograph of Margaret Potts with information that the police were holding a suspect in custody after a lengthy investigation. He knew without reading it all that Langton was acting like a spin doctor. If Smiley was to be released, they would be virtually back to square one, but the Met could not be accused of dragging their feet.
Time was certainly dragging in the interview room, where James Gregson was proving to be tiresome. He claimed that his client was being held unlawfully, and if they had further evidence that he knew Margaret Potts other than a weak video ID, they should produce it or release Smiley immediately. He by now had the details of Emerald Turk, who she was and so on, and that Margaret Potts, a prostitute, had stayed in her flat. Smiley had also denied ever fitting any blinds for Miss Turk or being paid cash to install them. He denied that he’d ever had any interaction with Ms. Potts or met her at the service station.
Time and time again, Gregson asked for evidence that implicated his client in anything more than being parked at the service station. Smiley had also denied ever meeting or having any kind of knowledge of the three Polish victims. Once more Gregson asked for any evidence that could implicate his client.
“My client, I believe, was unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time...”
Langton had listened as Gregson pompously suggested that they had no alternative but to release his client. “I would also like to add that I think this is bordering on harassment. Mr. Smiley has driven himself to the station to be interviewed, turned up of his own volition. At no time has he denied that he was parked at the London Gateway service station. I am also told that you have interviewed his wife, his employer, and a number of previous employees of the same company. Mr. Smiley has an exemplary employment record, he has no police record, and if this continues, he could lose his job.”
Langton let him go on without interruption. Anna sat silently beside him, watching Smiley closely. He did not react to anything his lawyer said but sat impassively with his head tilted down.
“You must know, Detective Chief Superintendent, that Mr. Smiley should have had a lawyer present during his last interview and during the video identification process...”
Gregson was either waiting for Langton to interrupt him or query what he was saying, but he remained silent. Eventually, Gregson closed his thick leather-bound notebook and tapped it with his well-manicured fingernails. There was a long pause.
“I hear what you are saying, Mr. Gregson,” Langton said finally.
“Well, I’m pleased that you—”
“Shut up. Shut up and listen to me. I have given you the best part of half an hour without interruption, and now it’s your turn to listen to me.”
“I resent the way you have just spoken to me.”
“You can resent it as much as you like. It would be simple, Mr. Gregson, if your client would admit here and now that he did meet Margaret Potts, that he did know her, because we have a witness—”
“I’m sorry, but I have to interrupt you. This witness you maintain met with my client—”
“This same witness picked Mr. Smiley out as the man in her flat who came to repair a blind and offered to put in place another one at a lower price. She left Mr. Smiley alone with the victim, Margaret Potts. He can deny it, he can swear on his children’s lives that he was never there, but he was.”
Langton had found John Smiley one of the hardest nuts to crack. Because he had shown no emotion, it was difficult to know if they had gained any ground with him. The DCS was becoming so frustrated that Anna was afraid he would lose his temper for real, so she intervened, her voice softer and quieter, in an attempt to draw a response and calm the atmosphere.
“Mr. Smiley, we don’t want in any way to jeopardize your work, and I know it is difficult for you taking so much time off.”
Smiley leaned forward, his tone bitter. “If I get the sack, I will sue the police for harassment. I did not know that woman Potts, and this so-called witness is lying. God help me, I don’t know why anyone would do such a thing, but—”
“Her friend was murdered; she was raped and strangled. If you are afraid that by admitting you knew Margaret—”
“I DIDN’T KNOW HER. HOW MANY MORE TIMES DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT? I DIDN’T KNOW HER!”
Gregson quickly placed his hand on Smiley’s arm to quiet him. This was the first time he had lost control. Langton stepped in again.
“Fine. You must then know of someone else working at Swell Blinds who did the work for this witness, someone with access to the wooden slatted blinds, someone who could arrange to put up a pair on the cheap and fix the vertical blinds that needed to be repaired.”
Smiley was back in control. He shrugged and said that as far as he knew, there were a number of employees who used to work only on the vertical blinds but might also have access to the slatted ones.
“We used to get a few in that weren’t the right size — you know, if I hadn’t done the measurements properly, so we’d have a stack of them that were useless; anyone could have picked them up from the warehouse. I would say that was what this woman was paying cash for. We’ve sold off some at one time or another.”
“Then give us the names of employees you think might have sold them to our witness.”
“You ask Mr. Rodgers — he’s the one who knows who was employed and who wasn’t. Some of them were cash in hand, especially the ones doing up the vertical blinds for the housing association contracts. They would have twenty or thirty flats to work on. I’m the professional one, because I only did the top clients.”