Napier and Gallinis had been left alone with their thoughts, as another extension to their custody was granted to await the canine DNA results from Liverpool. When Swift went over to the MCU he delivered the habitual coffee to Alice and the results. They were having a break in the interview. Alice told him Cross was waiting for Swift’s findings. This just made him anxious as he was fairly sure it wasn’t what Cross was hoping for. He still didn’t know Cross well enough to realise that Cross never hoped for or banked on anything when investigating a case. Even something which terminated a lead he was investigating was still progress for him.
He found Cross in his subterranean lair and looked around the room.
‘No windows, nice,’ he said approvingly. He found daylight and everything that went on in it outside his office an unnecessary distraction at work. Which was why he’d fitted blackout blinds over his windows. ‘I have the results from Liverpool.’
‘And what do they tell us?’ Cross asked.
‘The hair on the bed is a match to Bert, Napier’s dog. So the likelihood is he was sleeping in the house.’
Cross nodded. It was an indication of this but far from proof of murder. The dog could have just slept up there during their visits.
‘However, the canine blood on Ricky’s teeth is not a match for Bert.’
‘I see,’ said Cross as he thought through the ramifications of this.
‘Which does make sense, as the vet couldn’t find any bite marks on Bert from any other dog.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yes. The dog hairs on Moreton’s trousers are not a match for either dog. They are, however, a match for this breed.’ He handed Cross a piece of paper which contained all the results. Cross read it carefully.
‘Please keep this to yourself for the next hour or so. You can then give it to Warner,’ he said.
‘Yes, boss.’
Cross had Napier brought up from the cells. He’d decided the best way to get anything from the young man was simply to tell him the truth.
‘You were staying at Moreton’s house as an uninvited guest. We know this because we found dog hair matching Bert’s on the spare bed where you slept. However, we now have evidence that suggests someone else killed Alistair Moreton. Neither you nor Mr Gallinis murdered the victim.’
Napier looked at his lawyer as if needing confirmation of what Cross had just said.
‘So, am I free to go?’ he asked.
‘You will be as soon as you tell me exactly what happened,’ replied Cross.
‘What are you talking about? You just said we didn’t do it,’ said Napier.
‘I want to know how you and your associate came by those bruises on your arms,’ Cross informed him.
Napier and Gallinis then gave them separate but almost identical accounts of their time with Moreton. There were enough small inconsistencies to lead Cross to believe they weren’t at all rehearsed. Moreton, though never exactly glad of their company, got used to it and was reluctantly accepting of it, it seemed, despite pleading with them to leave and attempting to escape in the middle of one night. He’d even taught them a little Dickens, encouraging them to read Great Expectations. He introduced them to the music of Wagner. But as the two drug dealers relaxed, they let him drink more and more, until one night he completely lost it.
‘We were asleep when he attacked us. Came at us with a cane. He was a madman. Completely insane. Smacking me on my arms. It hurt, man! He had some strength. Fil came up to find out what was going on and he had a right go at him. I thought Fil might smack him one. But it was weird. He just turned his back on the old man who kept hitting him and we left, quick,’ Napier told them.
‘I couldn’t hit the old man. He was pissed,’ Gallinis corroborated. ‘I could’ve killed him if I hit him and we didn’t need that kind of hassle. He had some power in those arms, man. I had to sleep on my stomach the next night.’
‘Muscle memory and years of practice,’ Ottey commented drily.
They also spoke about seeing a man in a car who was staking the cottage out. They thought it was the police at first. A man, it could’ve been the same bloke, had called at the door a few days earlier. Moreton did seem a little shaken by it, now they thought about it. That was when he really started to hit the bottle.
‘There were others came round. The vicar, the man with his paper and another lady from the village,’ said Napier.
‘That would be the pub landlady in all probability,’ said Cross.
‘And then there was his son,’ added Napier.
‘Moreton’s son?’ asked Cross.
‘Yeah, he came round one day.’
‘Was this before or after the other man?’ Cross asked.
‘Next day, I think.’
‘Did you meet him? The son?’
‘No, Alistair wouldn’t let him in. Said he’d met someone in the pub with Covid so it wasn’t worth the risk. That got rid of him sharpish. Told us all about him though. An MP or something. Anyway, he didn’t come back.’ Cross made a note of this.
‘Why did you leave the cottage when you did? Clear out all your stuff,’ asked Ottey.
‘Why d’you think?’ Napier replied as if it should be obvious.
‘DS Ottey has no idea. Hence the question,’ said Cross.
‘Because we found him.’
‘What time?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe eleven or something. I didn’t check the time. Look, he was dead,’ Napier said.
‘Why didn’t you call for help?’
‘Because you would’ve pinned it on us.’
‘We didn’t know he’d been murdered. It looked like he’d fallen down the stairs, pissed. Broken his neck.’ Napier winced at the image in his head.
Cross made a note.
‘You weren’t there when he was killed?’ Cross asked.
‘Of course not. It wouldn’t have happened if we’d been there. Swear to God,’ said Napier.
‘Are you religious?’ asked Cross.
‘No.’
‘Then that’s pretty meaningless,’ he replied.
They both claimed to have left the night before Moreton was killed, the Saturday, and not returned till the night of the murder.
‘Is that it?’ Napier asked as the interview seemed to be coming to an end.
‘As far as we’re concerned, yes,’ Cross replied.
‘Sweet.’
‘But we may have further questions for you,’ Cross went on.
‘No probs, bruv. Anything to help. Cheers, yeah?’ he said, looked at his lawyer and then got up. Ottey opened the door for him. DI Hammond was standing on the other side with a pair of handcuffs in her hands.
‘Cal Napier, I’m arresting you on suspicion that you have committed offences against the Modern Slavery Act 2015.’