‘So, you admit to being in the village of Crockerne three weeks ago?’ Cross asked the now bemused Napier, who was wondering what the hell the revolving doors routine had been all about.
‘Yes.’
‘In the convenience store where you bought pizza and the public house where you befriended Alistair Moreton?’
‘I mean, who even says that? “Public house”?’ Napier smirked.
‘Just answer the question,’ advised his lawyer.
‘Yes.’
‘Did you then visit his house?’ Cross asked.
‘No comment.’
‘Your car was seen outside his house.’
‘Not my car, mate.’
‘So, you’re admitting the car was there?’ Cross asked.
The lawyer leant over and muttered in Napier’s ear.
‘No comment.’
‘The victim’s neighbour saw it and, thanks to an ongoing dispute with Mr Moreton, made a note of the registration.’
‘No comment.’
‘Having checked with the DVLA, it is your brother’s car.’
The lawyer again communicated quietly with his client.
‘We did stop off one afternoon. Yeah, I remember now.’
‘One afternoon. Was that all?’ Cross asked.
‘No comment.’
‘How do you know Andrew Tite?’ Cross asked.
‘No comment.’
‘He says you were supplying him with OxyContin for Alistair Moreton.’
‘No comment.’
‘And that you arrived in Crockerne a few weeks ago asking where Mr Moreton lived.’
‘No comment.’
‘Before moving in for the weeks leading up to his death.’
‘No comment.’
Cross ticked the question in his file and turned the page.
‘Your dog Bert…’ Cross began.
‘I hope you read him his rights,’ joked Napier, earning him a quick look of reproof from his lawyer.
‘He’s a dog. There’s no need,’ replied Cross. This threw Napier a little.
‘You were seen in the pub with Bert. It seems he didn’t take to Ricky, Alistair Moreton’s dog.’
‘No, he didn’t. Can be a bit of a bully, Bert.’
‘Nice name,’ Ottey commented.
‘Thanks. He’s a softie, really. Unless he thinks he needs to protect me,’ Napier said affectionately.
‘Did he need to protect you from Alistair Moreton on the night of his death?’ Cross asked.
‘No comment.’
‘The autopsy shows he was bitten twice on his calves. Was that your dog?’
‘No. You should talk to the neighbours. Have you talked to them? They’ve got two vicious bastard dogs. Always having a go at Alistair. Barking at him, gnashing their bloody teeth. Talk to them. They probably killed him and all, if you ask me.’
‘I didn’t ask you.’
‘No love lost there, mate. Right pair of wankers.’
‘Bert means a lot to you, obviously,’ Ottey said.
‘Yeah. Go everywhere together.’
No one said anything.
‘Is he all right, by the way? I mean, you’re not going to put him down or nothing, are you? He’s not a dangerous dog,’ Napier asked, suddenly anxious.
‘No, he’s quite safe. In the pound,’ Ottey assured him.
‘Unless of course it’s proved that he did attack Alistair Moreton, in which case euthanising the dog might well be ordered,’ Cross observed.
‘He didn’t attack the old man,’ Napier insisted, suddenly anxious. Cross noted his immediate worry about the dog. It was a weak point they could exploit.
‘Are you one of those people that let their dog sleep on their bed?’ Cross continued.
‘Got no choice, mate,’ Napier laughed. ‘Bert’ll howl the place down. Like a proper warewolf.’
‘Werewolf,’ Cross corrected him.
‘Yeah, that’s it,’ he said, smiling.
‘Where did you sleep at Moreton’s house?’ Cross asked.
‘No comment.’
‘Was it in the spare room? Where did Filip sleep? Must have been on the sofa in Moreton’s study. Unless you shared the single bed in the spare room?’
‘They don’t strike me as… that close,’ said Ottey mischievously.
Napier’s hackles were obviously raised but he just managed to hold himself back.
‘No comment.’
‘Have you heard of DNA?’ asked Cross.
‘No comment.’
‘I imagine you have, I mean it’s all over the television these days, isn’t it?’ he asked Ottey, suddenly aware that as he didn’t watch much television, he wasn’t sure this was actually the case.
‘It’s awash with the stuff,’ she replied. He looked at her. She definitely smiled. A joke.
‘The advances in DNA technology are quite extraordinary. What you might not be aware of is the fact that it’s now extended beyond humans to animals. There have been big advances in the US which unsurprisingly have found their way over here. We can tell from a single dog hair where a dog has been. Does Bert shed much?’
Napier said nothing.
‘When he sleeps perhaps?’ Cross suggested. Napier looked increasingly unsure of his situation.
‘I’d like to speak with my brief,’ he said finally.