Severed

'When he picked me up to go to Eddie Cosick's house.'

'And you still didn't ask him about the contents of the case, or his relationship with Mr Cosick?'

Khan's tone is perfectly reasonable, but I know he's beginning to lay on the pressure. I force myself to remain calm, but it's difficult. I'm exhausted. The anti-interrogation techniques I've been taught don't help because I'm not trying to withhold information. Quite the reverse. I want to appear to be co-operative.

'I asked,' I say, sounding weary, 'but he still wouldn't tell me. He kept saying it was best I didn't know, and he was acting very tense.'

'And you still went with him?'

I nod. 'Yes, I still went with him.'

And so it goes on. A slow, tortuous process of answering one set of questions, moving on to answer another set, then going back over something else. It's nothing like the movies or the TV, where the interrogations tend to be fast and dramatic. It's more like a very long and very dull game of chess. The advantage I have is that they don't really have any idea what's going on. The murders of Snowy and Cosick and his crew, and even the brothel fire, don't make any obvious sense, so it's difficult for them to theorize. They can only look at the facts. I was at both murder scenes, but there's nothing to suggest that I was actually responsible for them. There was some blood on the sweater I was wearing when I was arrested, which came from Lucas, but nowhere near enough for me to have tortured Cosick and cut the throats of his two bodyguards. And there's no motive whatsoever for me doing the same to Snowy. So, in the end, what have they actually got?

Not a lot.

But the point is, they know something's wrong.

When they start to go through the events at Cosick's house for something like the fourth time, Adine finally grows weary. 'My client's already answered these questions numerous times, detective inspector, and he's been an extremely co-operative witness, so can we just move on, or better still, release him on bail so that he can go home and get some sleep?'

Bolt smiles patiently, fixing her with piercing eyes. 'As you'll appreciate, Miss King, we just want to make sure we've got everything right. This is a large-scale murder inquiry, and Mr Tyler is the only person who knows what went on who's still alive. It's essential that we cover every possible angle.'

'As far as I can see, that particular angle's been well and truly covered.'

The smile hardens a little, and he turns back to me.

'Now, Mr Tyler, if we can just go back to the Ben Mason murder scene…'

I sigh. 'Yes?'

'You saw Mr Lukersson drive away?'

'I've already told you I did.'

'Which direction did he go?'

'On to the Kingsland Road, and he indicated left, which means he went north.'

'Can you remember what time that was?'

I shrug. 'Three o'clockish?'

'But you can't remember for sure?'

'No.'

'You said earlier that Mr Lukersson spoke to Mr Mason on the phone about fifteen minutes before you discovered the body. Is that right?'

Be careful, I tell myself. They're planning something here, I can feel it.

'That's right.'

'And you were with the body for how long?'

'Not long at all. A couple of minutes at most.'

'And then Mr Lukersson left?'

'Yes.'

'OK, so he left about twenty minutes after the phone call. Now, we've recovered the mobile phone we believe Mr Lukersson used to make that call, and the time it was made was 14.33, so it's fair to say he left about 14.53 or thereabouts?'

I can feel Adine tensing beside me – or am I just imagining it?

'I guess that'd be fair,' I answer slowly.

'The reason I ask is because Mr Lukersson's car was spotted by two separate witnesses parked up on the bridge over Kingsland Road less than a hundred metres from where Mr Mason's body was found, at 15.40.'

I don't panic. 'Maybe I've got my timings wrong.'

'Both witnesses also saw Mr Lukersson standing outside his car and then helping a second man into it before driving away.'

My heart starts to hammer, and it's with supreme difficulty that I assume a posture of total innocence.

'What's this got to do with me, officer?'

'That man was wearing the same clothes you said you were wearing.'

'There must be a mistake.'

'So, you're saying you left before the fire started,' says DS Khan quickly.

'Yes.'

Bang. Wrong answer.

And Bolt and Khan know it.

'I'm sorry,' I say before anyone else has a chance to speak, rubbing my eyes at the same time, 'I'm obviously tired. What fire?'

Is it enough? The room goes silent once again.

Bolt touches his ear and turns away from me. I realize then that he's wearing an earpiece, and someone's speaking into it. Someone who's watching the proceedings. Bolt's face tenses in concentration. A deep, furrowed V appears on his brow.

Seizing her chance, Adine demands bail once again, reminding them that I've been an extremely co-operative witness.

Bolt ignores her. 'Interview terminated, 11.27 p.m.,' he states curtly, and he and DS Khan stand up. 'We'll be talking again soon,' he tells me.

37

Adine sighs. We're in the room where I met her earlier. It's close to midnight, and she looks tired. There are dark patches under her eyes, a sharp contrast to her ivory skin, and I'm sure she wishes she'd never answered my earlier phone call. I can't blame her. This isn't how I like spending my Friday nights, either.

'They're going to keep you in for a while yet,' she says.

'On what grounds? I've answered their questions.'

'You have, but unfortunately they don't believe you.' She rubs her neck wearily, and once again I notice her polished fingernails. 'There isn't any hard evidence against you, but there are inconsistencies in your story.'

'Well, it wasn't my story. It was yours.'

'Don't start blaming me, Tyler,' she says icily. 'It's you who's admitted to being in a house with four bodies, and discovering another in a car five miles away, all within the space of six hours. I'm just having to make the best of a very bad deal, and without any preparation either. I'd already done a nine-hour day today before you called.' She glares at me.

'I'm sorry, Adine. I'm just stressed, that's all. And pretty exhausted.'

'OK.' Her expression softens, and I remember briefly how much I once cared for her. 'Whoever's story it is, it has weaknesses. They can't believe that you accompanied Lucas to Cosick's house without knowing what his relationship with Cosick was, and without having some idea of the contents of the briefcase. That's not to say that they think you actually committed any of the murders, but they're sure you're holding something back from them.'

'But they can only hold me for so long, right? Forty-eight hours or something?'

'Without charges, yes, but they can apply to a magistrate for an extension on that. And they can also charge you with something else.'

'Like what?'

'Burglary. Possession of an unlicensed firearm.'

'It wasn't loaded.'

'That doesn't matter. The point is that you went to someone's house armed with a handgun, fully prepared to threaten them with violence. That'll be enough to keep you in custody. Potentially for weeks.' She must see the look of abject defeat on my face because she continues quickly, 'I mean, obviously I'll try my best to get them to grant you bail, but it might take time, and it also depends on how they get on with the rest of their enquiries.'

'And whether they find out about my involvement with Leah, or the killings at Ferrie's place this morning.'

She nods slowly. 'Yes, there is the possibility of that putting a spanner in the works.'

Which strikes me as something of an under-statement. If they find out my involvement in either of those two incidents, my situation's going to take a dramatic turn for the worse. Not for the first time today, I wonder if I was wrong not to tell the police the whole truth, and whether, by extension, I have been badly advised by the woman sitting opposite me.