By the time Mark and Jan walked into the interview room, a cool evening had enveloped the town and the rush hour commute had ended hours ago.
Greg Fernsby was sitting at the table, his sweatshirt, jeans and underwear bagged and being processed by Jasper’s team while he huddled in a set of protective overalls, his eyes downcast.
His chipped fingernails were scrubbed and clean now, having been swabbed upon arrival at the station and before he’d been allowed to confer with the duty solicitor appointed to him.
That solicitor now slid a card across the table to Mark, and tried to find a comfortable angle for his spine against the hard plastic chair. ‘William Hawsey – Hawsey and Wainwright Solicitors. I’ll be representing Mr Fernsby for the purposes of this interview.’
Mark nodded in response, waiting until Jan pressed the “record” button on the equipment.
‘I need to speak to my wife,’ said Fernsby, lifting his gaze for the first time.
‘Not yet.’ Mark opened a file, spacing out a series of photographs on the table in front of him. ‘Tell us about Sonya Raynott, or Marie Allenton as she was also known.’
‘What about her?’
‘Why kill her, Greg? If you suspected her, why didn’t you tell us?’
‘I tried!’ Fernsby slammed his fist on the table.
Jan jumped in her seat, then cleared her throat and picked up her pen once more.
‘When?’ Mark said, unflustered by the man’s response. ‘Certainly not since I’ve been speaking to Sally about the burglary, and there’s nothing on file.’
‘Of course there isn’t. Bloody typical.’ Fernsby threw up his hands in disgust. ‘I phoned up. I left a message with a woman back in February. She told me she wasn’t sure who was dealing with Sally’s case but that she’d find out and pass it on.’
Mark bit back his frustration, wondering how many more tip-offs and updates had been lost to junior or temporary staff passing through the station in the past year.
‘Did you follow it up?’
‘No. I figured you weren’t going to do anything about it, and yet I was hearing about all these other burglaries in the area. I was worried that it’d happen again, and with Sally on her own in that house with a little ’un…’ He shivered. ‘You hear all the time that if people are burgled once, they’re more likely to get burgled again. I had to do something.’
‘You murdered Sonya, and left her body on the side of the road.’
Fernsby picked at a loose thread on the sleeve of the overalls. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ Mark said, slipping across images from the crime scene. ‘If anything, you planned this from the start. Including telling your wife and daughter that you were going night fishing that Tuesday, to give yourself time to clean up afterwards.’
‘It wasn’t meant to happen like that. It was an accident.’
‘An accident?’ Mark saw the same incredulous look on Jan’s face that he was sure he wore. ‘How did this “accident” occur?’
‘I just wanted the christening bracelet back, that’s all. Emma meant everything to us, to me. She was such a sweetheart. I… I knew Sally kept that bracelet hidden away. She couldn’t bear to look at it after Emma died, but she knew how much it meant to me. When she told me it’d been stolen, I suppose I saw red. I mean, they took a laptop from her too but who cares about that? You can pick them up second-hand these days, can’t you? They’re replaceable.’
Mark remained silent, watching the man chew his lip before continuing.
‘Me and Maureen were round at Sally’s in March, and when her mum was busy with Charlotte and out of earshot, she told me she thought she’d seen the woman who’d conned her way into her house. I asked her where, and she said in an optician’s in Wantage. Got her name and everything.’
‘Sally didn’t tell us she overheard her name when we interviewed her,’ Mark said.
‘Maybe she thought it wouldn’t do any good.’ A sad smile reached Greg’s eyes. ‘She told me about the alleyway too, so the next time we were in Wantage I had a wander along there while Maureen was having her hair done. I found the second-hand shop at the end. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together after that. The bitch was stealing stuff with whoever she was working with, and then flogging it to that toe-rag.’
‘Did you go in the shop?’
‘No. I saw him step outside with another bloke. I pretended to be looking at something in that haberdasher’s that’s nearer the square, but they looked like they were mates.’ Fernsby’s gaze dropped to his hands. ‘I’m not a big bloke, and I didn’t fancy my chances with those two.’
‘It’s now April, Greg. You had plenty of time to come in and see us, even if you didn’t get a response to your original message,’ said Jan. ‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I dunno. ’Spose by then, it was too late. I knew what I had to do. I had to find her, and find out what she’d done with that bracelet.’ He looked up, eyes hardening. ‘And I wanted her to get it back. I mean, even if that shop owner had sold it, she could steal it again, couldn’t she?’
‘So, what did you do after that?’
‘I started following her. It was hard at first – I didn’t know where she lived, and even though Sally overheard her name in the opticians, I couldn’t find her online, only a dead woman in her late fifties with the same name. So I started keeping an eye on the shop. I figured it wouldn’t be long before she turned up again. I picked a different place to watch the alleyway from every day – I told Maureen I was going out for a walk, that I wanted to get a bit of exercise because I was putting on too much weight. She’s been nagging me since Christmas about it, so that kept her happy…’
He drifted off, stretching out his legs before continuing. ‘It took a couple of weeks, but sure enough she turned up at the end of March, bold as you like with a bag over her shoulder. It looked heavy the way she was carrying it, but by the time she left, she didn’t have it anymore. I followed her to that car park near the square and got a look at her car as she drove out – she didn’t even look at me. Next time, I made sure I parked in the same place as her.’
‘When was that?’
‘Two weeks ago. I kept an eye on the local news sites for reports about burglaries in the area that weekend, and the shop doesn’t open on Mondays. That way, I had a pretty good chance of knowing when she’d go back there to flog what she’d nicked.’
‘You’re a patient man, Mr Fernsby,’ said Mark.
‘You need to be patient when you’re fishing.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I was right, there was another burglary like Sally’s that weekend. A woman conned a bloke over near Challow to let her in, and while he wasn’t looking she stole some medals and a pocket watch. As soon as I saw that on the Monday, I told Maureen I fancied a bit of night fishing the following day.’
Mark cast his eyes down the timeline in his notes. ‘For the purposes of the recording, can you confirm that that was on the Tuesday, two weeks ago?’
‘It was.’
‘What happened?’
‘I waited until I knew Maureen would be at work, then drove to the same car park she – Marie, Sonya, whatever her name was – used the last time I saw her.’
‘What time was that?’
‘About half ten.’ Fernsby shuffled forward in his seat. ‘She was already there, her car was, I mean. I’d driven in thinking I’d better have a look around in case she was already there, and I saw her getting out of her car as I came around the corner. I braked and waited while she walked off. When I got out, I noticed there weren’t any cameras pointing in my direction.’
He paused, shaking his head in wonder. ‘Clever, see? Means you lot couldn’t prove she was ever there or see what she was carrying. It was further from the ticket machine and from the exit to the shops, so no one else was parking there. That’s how I got a spot right next to her car.’
Trying to ignore his heart rate increasing, Mark took a deep breath. ‘What did you do to her, Greg?’
‘I followed her to the alleyway. Sure enough, she went into the shop.’ Fernsby blinked. ‘I hurried back to the car park and slashed her tyres. The ones nearest my car so she wouldn’t see they were flat when she came back. Then I waited near the fire exit until she came back.’
He choked out a bitter laugh. ‘The bitch had a smile like the Cheshire Cat when she appeared, striding towards her car like she’d won the fucking lottery, swinging the bag because it was lighter than before. You should’ve seen her face when she unlocked it and then saw the flat tyres. It was a picture, I tell you. I gave her a few minutes to stew – I could see her looking around, debating whether to call someone or wander off and ask for help, so that’s when I walked over. I asked if there was a problem, and said I could help after she showed me the tyres. I told her I had a tool kit in the boot of my car…’
Mark held his breath, knowing what would come next.
‘Look at me,’ Fernsby said, spreading his hands. ‘I look harmless, don’t I?’
‘What did you do, Greg?’
‘I’d already managed to break one of my rods in two – I always keep a pair, and my fishing gear’s always in the car anyway. I told her the jack was under the carpet and pretended to be looking at the rear tyre on her car while she opened the boot and started rummaging around. Then I hit her. I only meant to knock her out. I only wanted to take her somewhere and ask her what she’d done with Emma’s bracelet. I wanted to know who had it now. I don’t know… I panicked, I suppose. Especially when I saw her eye hanging out like that.’ Fernsby swallowed. ‘I managed to get the back seats lowered and bundle her inside. There was blood… over my sweatshirt. I locked her car, tossed the keys away, and drove out. I just… I just kept driving. I ended up near the Ridgeway for a bit, a quiet spot away from everything, and thought I’d be better off ending it all right then. But I still didn’t have the bracelet, did I?’
He ran a hand over tired eyes. ‘I waited until it was getting dark, and then I thought I’d better go fishing… after all, that’s where Maureen expected me to be, and I didn’t want her panicking. I-I tipped out her… her body on the way. I found some ID stuff in her jacket pocket but I never got a chance to go through her bag. It fell off her shoulder when I was trying to get her out of the car, and then I heard someone coming and I panicked so I drove off. I got to Shifford and managed to park the car around the back of the cottage away from the lock so Dunham didn’t see me arrive, and went and fished until about eleven, I suppose. He saw me on the way back and waved, I remember that. I waved back, then got in my car and went home. It took me ages to get the blood out of my clothes. I didn’t get to bed until two in the morning…’
‘Why didn’t you destroy your fishing rod, same as you tried to do with the debit cards and her driving licence?’
‘I tried,’ Fernsby mumbled. ‘Fucking thing wouldn’t burn so I put it in my bag. I didn’t want Maureen to find it, and I knew I couldn’t just put it in the rubbish bin outside. I was meaning to dump it but when I saw it in there today, I… all I could see was her face, her eye…’
‘You deliberately killed Sonya Raynott.’
‘No. I didn’t want that. I wanted answers, and I wanted Emma’s christening bracelet back.’
‘But you didn’t ask her, did you?’ Mark insisted. ‘You didn’t give her a chance to explain. Instead, you killed her, and then dumped her body before you went fishing to give yourself an alibi, and then you drove home and tried to hide the evidence. We found the burned credit cards and driving licences, Greg. All of it. Those swabs that were taken prior to your interview are now being matched against the broken fishing rod found in your tackle bag, which in turn is being analysed to see if it matches the traces of carbon and glass fibre found in the wound to Sonya’s head along with the blood samples taken from the rod. We’re also processing your car for any traces of DNA. You didn’t want answers from her,’ he snarled. ‘You wanted to kill her.’
Fernsby looked away, his jaw clenched.
‘I think it prudent that my client be allowed a short break,’ said Hawsey. ‘And I’d like a word with him in private.’
Mark waited until Jan had paused the tape, then glared at both men. ‘You’ve got ten minutes.’