KATE DANIELS SAT tapping her fingers on the surface of her desk. Even though she was expecting Matt West to be put through to her office, she jumped when the phone rang out. There was no time for small talk. It was too late for Sophie Kent and Maxine O’Neil, but assuming Rachel McCann was still alive, Kate might just save her if she moved fast.
‘Tell me what I need to know, Matt.’
Closing her eyes, she listened intently to the answer he gave.
‘Sample A is not consistent with the original statement given by Kent. It doesn’t match sample B: sand from Staithes. But it does match sample C: sand from your crime scene at Bamburgh. Although both locations are on the east coast, their properties are very different.’
Kate opened her eyes.
Matt’s verbal report was clear. There was no hesitation, no ambiguity. These were hard facts – something she could work with – expert witness testimony that would hold up in a court of law. Unequivocal forensic evidence linking Kent’s car to the Northumberland coast around the time his daughter went missing.
The words ‘provable lies’ sprang to mind.
It was a Eureka moment, a godsend to an SIO struggling with a complex case spanning a decade or more. It put Kent bang smack in the frame for his daughter’s murder. Thanking Matt, she put down the phone as a traffic car pulled into the car park outside her window, Kent’s gaunt face peering out from within.
THE INTERVIEW STRATEGY was simple. Drip-feed the information and let the suspect trip himself up. When she put it to the guv’nor, he agreed. She didn’t hang around. Within fifteen minutes, Kent was seated in front of her and Gormley, with Naylor and Jo Soulsby watching via a video link next door.
Gormley introduced everyone and cautioned the suspect for the benefit of the tape, asking him once more if he wanted a solicitor present. He told them no, he’d done nothing wrong.
‘Mr Kent,’ Daniels began, ‘I won’t beat about the bush. When your daughter went missing ten years ago some sand was recovered from the handbrake casing of your car.’
‘Was it? I don’t recall that.’
‘Then let me remind you. When asked about it, you told detectives that it must’ve come from a visit to Staithes. Remember now?’
‘No, yes . . . vaguely. I was in a state of shock back then. With Sophie missing, I didn’t know what I was doing or saying half the time.’
‘Do you have any further explanation as to how it got there?’
‘No idea. If that’s what I said, then that’s what I meant. It’s the only explanation, unless it came off someone else.’
The DCI wanted more. ‘Such as?’
‘I dunno, people who’d been in my car.’
‘Anyone in particular? I need names, Mr Kent.’
‘Why?’ When Daniels didn’t answer, Kent moistened his lips and reeled some off: Stamp, Harrison, Walker and two other men – one of whom she already knew to be deceased.
‘Clever!’ In the adjoining room, Superintendent Naylor’s eyes remained firmly fixed on the screen as he watched the interview progress. ‘And a tad convenient.’
‘How’s she doing?’ Jo asked.
‘She’s wondering if that was a deliberate ploy to queer her pitch.’
IN THE INTERVIEW room, the DCI spoke again. ‘You seem very sure about that.’
‘We were on the same darts team,’ Kent said with confidence. ‘We all took turns to drive. Ask them, if you don’t believe me.’
‘I shall.’ Kate glanced at the notes she’d made prior to the interview. It was important to hit him with the right questions. ‘There were two items, a hairbrush and a toothbrush, recovered from your home. Items you allege belonged to Sophie.’ She showed him the exhibits and asked him for confirmation, allowing him a little time. ‘Mr Kent? Do they belong to your daughter?’
Kent shifted in his seat. ‘I don’t lie to the police. The CID collected them from her bedroom. Of course they’re hers. Looks like them, anyway.’
‘Looks like them isn’t good enough,’ Daniels said. ‘Are they identical in every way? Very similar? Did she have stuff like this? Tell me what you meant by that.’
‘She did have items like that, yes. That’s all I can say. I’m not big on little girls’ personal possessions. Are you?’
The DCI sat back and rolled her eyes at her DS, his cue to join in.
Linking his hands, Hank placed both elbows on the table. ‘You’re big on little girls though, aren’t you, Mr Kent? You’ll be telling us next that the darts team had access to your house as well as your car.’ His expression was sceptical. ‘I bet each one of the people you mentioned had been there at one time or another. Am I right?’
‘’Fraid so,’ Kent said. ‘I’m a friendly kinda guy.’
There was a short pause.
Daniels picked up the questioning: ‘Do you like it here in Northumberland, Mr Kent?’
This seemed to throw him. ‘Why is that important?’
‘I’m just making conversation, trying to understand why you chose to settle in this part of the world.’ He didn’t answer. ‘I like it here too. Out of interest, before you were transferred to HMP Northumberland, had you ever been to Bamburgh?’
‘SHE’S GOOD.’ NAYLOR winked at Jo. ‘But I’m better.’
Jo grinned, enjoying his banter.
KENT DIDN’T REPLY. He looked nervous.
‘I’ll ask you again,’ Daniels said. ‘Had you ever been to Bamburgh before you came to work here? It’s a simple enough question.’
‘No,’ Kent said.
‘On holiday perhaps?’
He shook his head.
‘Never?’
‘No!’ He was angry now. ‘Christ’s sake, woman! I never wanted to come here in the first place. I didn’t have a choice. I came to live in this region because of a job change.’
‘Yes, I know all about that,’ she said.
Naylor glanced sideways. ‘Wait for it! She’s going for the jugular. He’s dead meat.’
DANIELS HELD THE suspect’s gaze. A film of sweat had appeared on his brow. For the first time since the interview started he looked scared. It was as if he had only just realized the trouble he was in. Well, he’d blown his opportunity for legal counsel and she wasn’t stopping now.
Time to give him a nudge.
‘I’d love to believe what you say, really I would. But your evidence can be disproved. The sand recovered from your vehicle has now been forensically examined. It doesn’t come from Staithes. In fact, experts tell me it’s a physical impossibility. Geology is obviously not your subject . . .’ She paused – but there was no reaction. Her suspect just sighed and looked away. So she pushed a little harder. ‘Do have any idea where the sand came from, Mr Kent? No? OK, then I’ll tell you. It came from Bamburgh beach.’
Kent’s head shot up. ‘You’re having a laugh! I’d never set foot in this county until I came to live here, well after Sophie disappeared!’ He glared at her. ‘I don’t recall how the sand got there. The police said there was sand. I just assumed it must’ve come from Staithes. Either you’re trying to fit me up here, or someone very close to me is.’
IN THE VIEWING room, Jo huffed. ‘Five minutes ago he couldn’t remember any sand at all!’
Naylor didn’t answer, just stared at the monitor in front of them. Kent was back-pedalling fast, telling the DCI he had no bloody idea how sand particles had found their way into his car, that his head had been in a mess at the time. He acknowledged that these were damning discrepancies in the statement he’d given, ones that now made him look guilty when he was anything but.
Daniels again. ‘Are you guilty?’
‘No.’
‘I think you are. You knew fine well where the sand came from. You said Staithes to save your arse, but you knew all along it was Bamburgh. That’s why you didn’t want to give me a DNA sample, isn’t it, Mr Kent?’
He said nothing.
NAYLOR LOOKED UP as Daniels entered the room, drinking water from a bottle. The interview had gone well. But she wasn’t celebrating and the Super knew why. She had evidence enough to charge him. He’d lied about the sand. Probably planted dodgy DNA samples to throw police off the scent should his daughter’s body ever turn up. As far as motive was concerned, he was the single parent of a girl neither he nor his late wife wanted in the first place. He’d had plenty of opportunity to kill her. He had a car, so he had the means to dispose of her body. But . . .
‘He could have done it,’ Daniels said weakly, palming her brow. ‘But I’m not convinced.’ Her eyes flitted over the other three: Naylor, Gormley and Jo – in that order. ‘Go on then. Hands up who thinks he did it.’
No one moved.
‘Shit! That’s what I thought. Did you see his face when I said the sand was from Bamburgh? He was incredulous. That’s why I held off asking him where Rachel was. If he didn’t kill his daughter, he hasn’t got her. More worryingly, and he said it himself, if he didn’t do it then someone very close to him did. Don’t ask me why, but I think he’s on the level.’