Grace thought for some moments, absorbing this. ‘As soon as you get it, I’d like to see it.’
‘And maybe Haydn Kelly?’ Branson said.
Kelly was the pioneer of Forensic Gait Analysis, who Grace used regularly when he was available to help confirm or deny a suspect from the way they walked.
‘Yes, if the facial images aren’t clear enough and if there’s any footage of her walking,’ Grace said. ‘Before then, are we going to review the footage of Niall Paternoster’s interviews with Jon and Norman?’
‘Yes.’ Branson glanced at his watch. ‘We’ve another starting shortly, we can see that first.’
‘What are the other developments? You said you had quite a bit more to report?’
‘I do, and this is where it gets more complex. The Dive Team have only started this morning. But the Search Team have been in Ashdown Forest since yesterday evening. They’ve found a number of items of bloodstained clothing in what looks like a hastily dug grave close to where the trainer and the kitchen knife — a match to the set in the Paternosters’ kitchen — were found. But no body parts.’
‘You’ve sent all the items for DNA analysis?’
‘They’re at the lab now.’
Grace considered this. ‘Just clothing. No body parts?’
‘No, but there’s something else I don’t think I’ve updated you on, boss, from last night’s briefing, which might be very significant. Especially regarding the knife. Niall Paternoster started out in life, after school, as a butcher’s assistant.’
Grace stared at him, thinking hard. ‘That might be very significant.’
‘Indeed.’
‘In woodlands, in particular, dismembered body parts can be carried off by predators within a very short time. Foxes, badgers, birds of prey — and all the rodents. That could explain why the team hasn’t found anything yet, potentially five days after it was left there.’
‘But what about the head, boss?’
‘I’ll put good money on that being in the harbour,’ Grace said. ‘Unless it’s in the Isle of Wight and walking around, still attached to her body. We need to get that footage from the hovercraft.’
‘Sometime today, hopefully.’
‘Good.’
Branson glanced at his watch. ‘We should go over to the custody centre and watch this morning’s interview with Paternoster. Are you OK to meet up?’
‘Sure.’
61
As they walked along the corridor, Branson asked, ‘So, what news on Bruno? How’s he doing?’
Grace was silent for a moment, then said quietly, ‘Not great, Glenn, not great at all.’
A young DC walking past the other way greeted them with a ‘Good morning, sir, good morning, boss’.
They both acknowledged her politely. Then Grace said, still quietly, ‘He’s brain dead, there’s nothing they can do. It absolutely breaks me.’
Branson stopped. Grace stopped too. ‘What?’
Grace nodded.
‘That’s terrible.’ Branson shook his head and looked at him balefully. ‘What... what’s the prognosis — what do the medics say?’
‘They’re asking Cleo and me if we would consider organ donation.’
Branson’s eyes widened. ‘Isn’t there a chance he could recover?’
‘No. I mean — from what they say — there’s no way he will.’
‘You don’t have to make any decisions immediately, do you, boss? People can stay in that state for a long time. Wasn’t there a case in the papers recently of a teenage girl who’d been in a coma for three years after a car accident and then recovered completely?’
‘It’s different with Bruno. We’ve had it all explained to us — about how his brain is swelling — coning, they call it — and crushing his brainstem. His chances of recovery are zero, and if we don’t make a decision quickly, his most valuable organs for transplant will atrophy.’
Glenn put his huge hand around Roy’s shoulder and squeezed. ‘Just know I’m here for you any time you want to talk. If you’d rather go back to the hospital now, to be with him, please do that.’
‘I appreciate it, thanks, but I’m coming with you to see this interview. It’s helpful for me to be away from the hospital at the moment... we all cope differently.’
As they walked on, around a corner, they saw Norman Potting and Jon Exton standing, conferring, outside the interview room. The door was closed.
‘Sir, chief,’ Potting said, acknowledging them. Exton turned and saw them, too.
‘All set?’ Grace asked quietly.
Exton jerked his head towards the door. ‘Paternoster’s in there with his brief, boss,’ he replied, equally quietly.
Somehow mustering a smile, Grace said, ‘Remember, confirm the lie then hit with the truth.’
‘Absolutely, chief,’ Potting said. He gave a thin smile back.
Two minutes later, Grace and Branson sat next to each other in the windowless cubicle adjoining the interview room, watching the CCTV monitor on the wall.
Inside the room they saw Niall Paternoster and his solicitor on one side of the table, and Exton and Potting on the opposite side. Paternoster, with two days’ growth of stubble, looked pallid from lack of sleep.
‘The time is 8.17, Wednesday, September the fourth,’ Exton announced. ‘DS Exton and DS Potting interviewing Niall Paternoster in the presence of his solicitor, Joseph Rattigan. This interview is being recorded onto a secure digital network.’
They all introduced themselves. Exton recapped on the interview from the previous evening and then he sat back. The two detectives looked at Niall for a few seconds. ‘Is there anything you’d like to add to last night?’ Potting asked.
‘I’ve got no comment to make.’
‘According to your phone, on Sunday the first at 5.30 p.m. you met up with someone. Who was that person? Your girlfriend?’ Potting asked.
Nialclass="underline" ‘No comment.’
‘Your phone and recent phone records have been examined by our investigation team,’ Potting continued. ‘At 3.23 p.m. on Sunday afternoon a text was sent from your phone, the hard copy of which I have here.’
Joseph Rattigan indicated he wanted to see it, and Potting passed it across to him. Immediately an increasingly agitated Niall, his face flushed, leaned over to look at it. Then he whispered to his solicitor, who nodded back.
‘On the advice of my solicitor I have no comment to make.’ He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; his face was pale and he was looking extremely anxious.
‘Niall, could the reason you did not see your wife perhaps be because you were preoccupied with your mobile phone, sending a text?’ Potting quizzed.
Paternoster jerked as if he’d had a small electric shock.
The solicitor frowned. This was clearly news to him. ‘Does this have anything to do with Mrs Paternoster’s disappearance?’ He looked at each detective in turn.
Potting replied, ‘Of course it does, we are trying to establish what your client was doing on Sunday afternoon when he alleges his wife went missing.’ He turned to address Niall. ‘It appears to me that you were communicating by text on at least two occasions on Sunday afternoon and chose, when you gave your account, not to tell us. Who is that person you were communicating with?’
‘No comment.’
Exton continued to press Paternoster. ‘Niall, the sent text message at 3.23 p.m. that you have a copy of reads, “See you 5.30 XXXX”. It was sent to an unregistered pay-as-you-go phone, approximately five minutes after you claim your wife left the car to go into the Tesco store. Can you tell us who the intended recipient was?’