‘Yes, boss,’ said Vogel.
He turned and walked stiffly from his superior’s office, keeping those unwelcome emotions locked inside him. In order to maintain his outer calm he made a resolution, something to carry him through until this matter was resolved.
He would not rest until he had found the man who had killed Marlena and Michelle. He would find the bastard and bring him to justice. He would avenge the deaths of the two women and he would also avenge the injustice that had been inflicted upon Alfonso Bertorelli.
Vogel walked straight through the MIT room, pausing only to pass on his superior’s instructions to arrest the remaining members of Sunday Club. Having assigned a team of officers to carry out each arrest, he turned his attention to Wagstaff and Carlisle, who looked suitably ashamed when confronted with Timpson’s evidence and immediately set off for the Dunster Arms to confirm it. Finally Vogel proceeded through the lobby to the back door which led onto Chandos Place, the one that was almost opposite Brydges Place, where Michelle had been killed. He looked the other way.
Within a couple of hours there would be an endless succession of interviews to conduct, but first he needed some fresh air and a few minutes alone. He walked briskly down Agar Street and across the Strand, heading for Embankment Gardens. There he found a park bench, amongst beds of tulips and daffodils now in full April glory. Making sure he was alone, he bowed his head, and allowed the tears to flow freely down his pale cheeks.
Eighteen
A pair of City of London coppers apprehended Billy at his place of work. Tiny and George were arrested at their homes. They picked up Greg in his lock-up over at Waterloo loading cases of dodgy whisky into the back of his van, and they tracked down Bob to the luxury block of flats at Clerkenwell where he regularly attended to both the plants in the public areas and several of the privately owned terraces and balconies. Karen was apprehended as she returned home with shopping for that evening’s supper. Ari was found in the lobby of the Dorchester where, with his father, he was entertaining a Swiss Banker and a Saudi sheikh to a light lunch.
Their arrests had been executed so quickly that all seven of them claimed to be unaware of Michelle’s murder until this was revealed to them by their arresting officers, and each appeared shocked to the core.
They were taken to Charing Cross police station where they were to be interviewed separately, waiting in between times in individual cells. First they were processed in the custody unit. Their clothes and personal possessions were removed and they were fingerprinted and DNA-tested according to procedure. A small amount of cocaine was found in a pocket of Ari Kabul’s jacket. That held no interest, in itself, for Vogel, but it was possible that its presence might prove useful.
By the time all seven were brought in Vogel was once again looking his usual cool, calm self, and concentrating his legendary brain on the matter in hand instead of dwelling on the consequences of earlier failings.
The question that was bugging him most was why Marlena and Michelle had been murdered, rather than by whom. He was quite sure that if he could only find the answer to the former, the latter would automatically fall into place.
Vogel, once more accompanied by DC Jones, conducted the first interview with Ari. Before he could get a question in, Ari had one for him. He was no longer as self-assured or amenable as he’d been the previous time they’d met, but then nobody had died when Vogel had last spoken to Ari Kabul, and he hadn’t been arrested and hauled into a police station.
‘I suppose you think I’m guilty of murdering Marlena and Michelle as well as everything else that’s been going on because nothing’s happened to me,’ Ari blurted out. ‘Because I’m not one of the poor bloody victims.’
Vogel was very quiet, his manner more in keeping with an inquisitive schoolteacher than a police detective.
‘I can assure you, Mr Kabul, that I have drawn no such conclusion. You are here to help us with our inquiries, that’s all.’
‘I thought I’d been arrested.’
‘A technicality, at this stage,’ said Vogel. ‘After Michelle’s body was found we wanted to get you all here as—’
‘At least we know Alfonso didn’t do it.’
‘Mr Kabul, I cannot divulge information about an investigation which is still ongoing.’
‘No,’ Ari interrupted again. ‘But it’s damned obvious Alfonso couldn’t have killed Michelle if he was banged up in here. Which he was.’
Vogel ignored the remark.
‘Mr Kabul, could you tell me where you were between the hours of eight and ten this morning please?’ he enquired.
‘I was with my dad at the Dorchester, where you damn well picked me up in front of everybody.’ Ari’s voice rose. ‘Can you imagine the bad time my dad’s going to give me?’
‘I think that may be the least of your concerns,’ said Vogel. ‘What time exactly did you arrive at the Dorchester?’
‘I’m not sure. About twenty past eight I think.’
‘And was anyone else with you up until ten o’clock or thereabouts, or were you just in the company of your father?’ asked DC Jones.
‘You have to be joking,’ said Ari. ‘You think my dad would choose to while away the morning with me? We had a breakfast meeting with some City people at eight thirty, followed by a couple of other meetings over coffee, and then the lunch — which you guys know about because you interrupted it, didn’t you? It’s something Dad does. Intensive entertaining, he calls it. Gets a lot of stuff over with all at once.’
‘I see. And before eight twenty?’
‘What do you think? We were travelling to the Dorchester from home, weren’t we? In Dad’s car. So his chauffeur can back me up on that, though if you think my dad would give me a false alibi then you just don’t know him.’
Vogel stared at Ari. How he wished he could read minds. Sometimes he almost felt he could when he was really concentrating on interviewing a suspect. But not with this guy. He was unable to get beyond Ari’s chippy responses. The difference in the man since their last encounter was so marked that Vogel couldn’t help wondering whether the personality change was a sign of guilt. He noticed that Ari’s hands were trembling. Was it just a case of nerves, or was it an indicator of dependency on the substance found on him, or any other substances he might be addicted to?
Vogel decided on a two-pronged attack.
‘Mr Kabul, are you aware that when you were searched this morning on entering police custody we found a considerable quantity of cocaine in the pocket of your suit jacket?’
‘Oh yeah, yeah,’ said Ari.
‘Mr Kabul, are you also aware that we could charge you with possession of an illegal drug?’
‘I thought you were investigating a murder — two murders now,’ said Ari.
‘Indeed. However, your attitude leads me to believe, Mr Kabul, that you are not cooperating with us fully. It is possible that you need time to reflect upon your position. Were I to charge you with possession of an illegal substance, that would give me the opportunity to detain you here for considerably longer than otherwise. Do you understand?’
Ari bowed his head. When he spoke again it was without any of his earlier attitude.
‘Detective Inspector, I am all sorts of things — a spoiled rich boy, probably, a bit of a druggy, definitely, and sometimes a bloody fool — but I am not a violent man. I’ve never knowingly hurt anyone in my life and I certainly didn’t kill Marlena or Michelle. Why would I?’
And that, thought Vogel, was the crux of the matter. Why would Ari Kabul or any of the friends have committed double murder?