‘Hey! How are you, mate? … Great, I’m in Bristol. Wondered if you might like to hook up?’ Warner shouted into his mobile at his desk opposite Cross. Mackenzie was sitting opposite Cross.
‘I wasn’t able to find out much online about Moreton, as I suspected would be the case,’ she said.
‘Probably not long. Few days max. Should have this wrapped up at the end of the week,’ continued Warner.
‘He was a teacher for a while,’ Cross told Mackenzie.
‘Right,’ she replied.
‘That’d be great. Why don’t we grab a bite to eat while we catch up?’ continued Warner.
‘He was a headmaster at a small Catholic school somewhere,’ Cross informed Mackenzie.
‘That’s interesting,’ said Mackenzie making a note.
‘His son is Sandy Moreton,’ said Cross.
‘That rings a bell,’ said Mackenzie.
‘Seven thirty. See you there. Look forward to it,’ said Warner.
‘MP in Dorset. Was a minister but lost his job after an inquiry found him guilty of bullying his staff. He then lost the Conservative party whip, and now he’s been recalled and there’s going to be a by-election,’ Cross told her.
‘Oh, I know who you mean. Tory, well, ex, I guess. Vocal Brexiteer, pro-life, Catholic fundamentalist. Didn’t he say something about reinstating the death penalty?’ Mackenzie said. ‘Do you want me to follow up with him? Shouldn’t be too hard. He’s a right political rentagob.’
Cross noticed that Warner was now fiddling with his phone. He seemed to have two. One for work. One for personal use, presumably. It was the latter he was typing in. It was easily identifiable as it had a West Ham FC case.
‘No need. He already has a family liaison officer. But I think we’ll hear from him very soon. He’s very vocal on policing issues and his father’s murder will doubtless provide him with a unique opportunity to do some more self-promotion. It’ll be another topical way of getting himself into the public eye,’ replied Cross.
‘Blimey, I didn’t realise you were such a cynic, DS Cross,’ said Warner checking his watch and getting up. ‘I’m going out for a fag. Anything I should know about?’
‘That would depend,’ replied Cross.
‘On what?’
‘What the parameters are of what you believe you should know, as SIO on a murder case, of which you should be appraised,’ replied Cross.
Warner looked at Cross and then at Mackenzie.
‘Friday can’t come soon enough,’ he said.
‘What happens on Friday?’ she asked.
‘I’ll have this case wrapped up and will be able to bugger off,’ he said, leaving the office. Mackenzie turned to Cross.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
‘In what sense?’
‘Having him in your office. With a bloody desk. Making personal calls on his phone.’
‘In that case no. But I haven’t concluded yet how best to resolve the situation,’ he replied.
‘Well, if there’s anything I can do, let me know.’
He didn’t reply and so she left.
Cross continued quietly going about his research. He began with the Cotterells. He discovered that she came from quite a wealthy background and worked in the PR department of the family firm. Barnaby Cotterell was an orthopaedic surgeon in a London hospital and had spent time in the Territorial Army. Cross found himself wondering whether his carpentry skills came in useful in the operating theatre. This thought made him shudder so he moved on quickly. They were expecting their first child. He had just been made a consultant. Things were looking pretty positive in the lives of the young couple.
Cross’s methodical research was interrupted half an hour later when he heard his name being bellowed across the department. He looked up to see Warner bearing down on him, yelling as he held up a plastic evidence bag for everyone to see.
‘Cross! Cross!’
Cross went back to his computer screen. The door then burst open with such force that it slammed violently against the office wall. He jumped. Even though he was aware of the impending interruption, he wasn’t prepared for the violence of it.
‘What the fuck is this?’ Warner demanded, brandishing the evidence bag in front of him. Cross could see it contained the bloodied chisel which had been found the previous day.
‘It’s an evidence bag,’ replied the startled Cross.
‘Don’t be a smart arse.’
‘I’m not.’
‘You were told about this at the crime scene.’
Cross didn’t say anything as a question hadn’t been asked.
‘Why didn’t you say anything to me, the SIO?’
‘I didn’t think it necessary at the time and knew you’d find out about it in due course,’ replied Cross.
‘Are you trying to be funny?’
‘I am not.’
‘You obviously thought it relevant or else you wouldn’t have asked to see Cotterell’s workshop,’ Warner went on.
‘Correct. I then discovered Cotterell had a set of chisels identical to that one. One was missing. He claimed to have broken it.’
‘And you’re only telling me this now because?’ asked Warner.
‘Because you hadn’t asked till now and I also didn’t see the need,’ Cross replied.
‘What? How does that make any sense?’
‘Whether it makes any sense to you or not is neither here nor there. I didn’t see the need.’
‘We should’ve arrested him.’
‘Why him in particular and not her?’
‘It’s his chisel.’
‘If it is, which we don’t actually know, she could also have had access to it,’ Cross pointed out.
‘The chances are it is and yes, you’re right. So we should’ve arrested them both,’ replied Warner.
‘Arresting them would have been precipitate,’ said Cross.
‘Are you joking?’ shouted Warner getting more exasperated.
‘I am not,’ said Cross who just stared at him. Warner was at a loss. He’d never encountered anything like this before.
Carson appeared, having heard Warner yelling from his office. He looked at the audience of detectives hanging on every exchange between Warner and Cross, curious to see how it would pan out. He tried to get them back to work with an authoritative look. He didn’t succeed. He got to Cross’s door and said, ‘My office.’
He then walked away before returning.
‘George, I’d like you to come to my office now,’ he said.
Cross got up and walked past Warner, who then followed.
*
Carson examined the chisel in the bag. Warner leant against the side wall of the office, arms folded. His attitude said that the evidence spoke for itself, and he was confident Carson would quickly take his side.
‘So, you were aware of this piece of evidence?’ Carson asked Cross.
‘I was,’ he answered.
‘Do you think it likely to be the murder weapon?’
‘We have no COD as yet,’ Cross replied.
‘Is he serious? No cause of death? A man is stabbed in the chest, a bloody chisel is found in his garden with a blade which, to my untrained eye, looks about the same width as the puncture wound in the victim’s chest, and he’s not sure it’s the murder weapon?’ asked Warner.
‘George, would you care to answer that?’
‘The likelihood is that the chisel was indeed used in the assault. Whether it killed the victim and is therefore the murder weapon has yet to be ascertained,’ Cross replied.
‘He was stabbed in the chest with it, mate,’ spat Warner.
‘Do you know the depth of the chest wound, Bobby?’ asked Carson, echoing Cross’s exact same question to him at the scene, as if it had just occurred to him.
‘I do not,’ admitted Warner reluctantly.
‘George, why didn’t you tell DI Warner about the chisel at the crime scene yesterday? It was clearly of interest. You obviously thought so because you asked to see the workshop. So why not tell him?’ asked Carson.
‘Because I knew he would rush to make an arrest.’
‘Too bloody right, mate,’ said Warner looking at Carson as if to show him what he was up against.
‘You told me he had a reputation for closing cases quickly,’ Cross went on.
‘Which I do.’
‘Sometimes at such speed, it would seem, that cases don’t hold up in court,’ added Cross.
‘Says who?’
‘Says your record, sir,’ replied Cross.
‘Are you listening to this?’ Warner asked Carson in disbelief. ‘My DS, my subordinate officer, is checking up on me!’ He laughed at the absurdity of it.
‘I like to know who I’m working with—’ began Cross.
‘Working for, Sergeant,’ Warner reminded him.
‘Correct. Who I’m working for,’ replied Cross. ‘As I was saying, DCI Carson, I thought such an arrest prior to obtaining results from forensic testing of the weapon would only result in an early result and wasting time in our custody window with our suspects until such results surfaced.’
‘That does make sense, Bobby,’ Carson pointed out.
‘Bollocks,’ was the response he got.
‘Anything else, George?’ asked Carson, ignoring Warner.
‘Seriously, are you going to side with him every time something like this happens?’ asked Warner. Again, Carson ignored him.
‘George, was there anything else?’ Carson asked again.
‘Alistair Moreton hadn’t been to church for two weeks, neither had he been to the pub which he frequented without fail six nights a week. This was completely out of character,’ Cross informed him.
‘What has that got to do with anything? A bloodstained chisel most likely belonging to his neighbour was found in his garden and will most likely prove to be the murder weapon,’ said Warner, emphasising ‘most likely’ sarcastically for their benefit.
‘George, you may go,’ said Carson. Cross left the office immediately.
‘Bobby, sit.’
‘That man is going to drive me nuts,’ Warner said as he sat.
‘Sure. I get it. We all get it. But listen. You’re annoyed because you’re used to people playing games. People dicking around. George doesn’t do that. He’s incapable of it. He’s never trying to score points. He likes the odd bit of praise, but he’ll never jump the queue to get it and never take credit for someone else’s work. Nothing is personal with him even when it can come across that way. It just isn’t. And yes, he drives us mad at times. But everything he does is in the best interests of the case,’ Carson explained.
‘He should’ve told me about the chisel,’ Warner replied.
‘Sure, and most people would have. Even though it’s fairly obvious to you and me that the chisel is going to be material to the case. That it’s probable it belongs to Barnaby Cotterell and he used it in the assault. But none of that is enough for Cross. He needs evidence,’ said Carson.
‘It is evidence,’ maintained Warner.
‘In all probability, yes. You and I both think that, but he doesn’t. He didn’t tell you because he felt the timing wasn’t right for an arrest. An arrest he correctly thought you’d make. In effect he was trying to stop you from wasting any time before we got forensic confirmation.’
‘That’s not his call to make. I might have got a confession.’
‘You know what? You might have. What is more, George believes in protocol and the chain of command—’
‘You wouldn’t know it.’
‘And if you pointed out that he was in breach of that he probably wouldn’t do it again.’
‘Good point. So, I should tell him.’
‘Sure. If you want,’ said Carson.
‘I sense a “but” there, sir.’
‘If you do that, which you’re perfectly entitled to do, well, it’s just that putting him on a leash like that, you run the danger of not getting the best out of him, that’s all. But it’s your call. And I’ll support you as the SIO. But I wouldn’t do it.’
Warner thought about this for a moment, then slowly shook his head, as if it was a lot to process.
‘His way is unorthodox, but the key is, if he infuriates you, to remember it’s not his intention. Far from it.’
‘Okay, boss. I’ll try.’
‘Good man. I would say you might even be surprised, that you might even learn something. But I have a feeling that just might make things worse. Don’t take the things he does or says personally and you’ll be okay.’
‘Right,’ said Warner unenthusiastically. He got up to leave.
‘One other thing, Bobby. When something occurs to George that things aren’t right, nine out of ten times he’s right.’
Warner nodded then went to the door and turned back into the room.
‘You know what, sir. He may have his ways and that’s fine. But so do I. I have something that man will never have. A good nose for a suspect. A gut, and I’m telling you now that Cotterell is our man. It couldn’t be more straightforward,’ he said.
‘And you know what? If you’re right no one will be more pleased than George Cross. As long as everything is lined up correctly behind it.’
For Carson the evidence did seem to be stacking up against Cotterell quite convincingly. This was pleasing, not just because a quick resolution would reflect well on him but also because the Warner–Cross situation seemed to be boiling up. His anxiety about this had been further exacerbated by a call from Ottey earlier that morning. She’d asked for more time to sort out her move which Carson had granted her willingly. The quicker the case was wrapped up, the quicker he could get Warner out of Cross’s office and peace would be restored.