They arrived at the Sawyer house mob-handed. Zigic and Murray in his car, two more patrol cars behind them, ready to execute the search warrant he’d obtained, bring in whoever was there to explain the inconsistencies in Brynn Moran’s and Harry Sawyer’s alibis.
He hit the button on the intercom for the third time, feeling a rising urge to get out and hammer on the gates, knowing it would do no good.
‘They’re in there,’ Murray said. ‘I see three vehicles, one of them’s Moran’s, right – the twin-cab pickup, sign-written?’
‘That’s him.’
Plenty of people home to let them in but they were remaining hunkered down behind the gates. He pressed the button once more and this time it prompted a response, no answering voice but the gates began to swing slowly open and he drove onto the driveway, the patrol cars coming in behind him.
The house was lit up against the grey afternoon and, as he headed for the front door, Zigic spotted Nina Sawyer in the room where they’d first spoken to her, standing with her arms folded, body stiff with rage, while Brynn made an entreating gesture at her, Harry a few steps away from him, head in his hands. The group clustered and mute behind the toughened glass, the house taking on the feel of a stage set.
Nina was slow to answer the door and through the glass he saw her composing herself as she approached, smoothing back her hair, setting her face.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, weariness undercutting the demand.
Murray handed her the search warrant and she glanced at it briefly, her neat, blonde brows furrowing.
‘This is ridiculous.’
‘It’s procedure,’ Zigic said.
‘What on earth do you expect to find here? We—’ She stopped as Murray started away through the house, towards the kitchen, in search of the utility room. ‘You have no right to do this. What are your grounds for entering my home?’
‘We do have the right, Mrs Sawyer.’
She tapped the warrant against her fingertips, desperate-looking, cornered. It was all unravelling in front of her eyes and she didn’t know how to regain control. Behind her Harry and Brynn moved closer together, and Zigic caught the look they shared. Scared, determined, conspiratorial; a matter agreed without words.
‘May I at least ask what you’re looking for?’ Nina said.
‘Clothing, primarily.’
Brynn shot another quick glance at Harry, but he’d moved, retreated to the low, uncomfortable sofa, sat with his knees on his elbows, thoroughly defeated.
Nina stared Zigic down. ‘I know what you’re doing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You want to put the blame on my family because you can’t find who really killed Corinne.’
Zigic held her gaze, saw another brief glimmer of fear in her moss-green eyes. Brynn and Harry were keeping her innocent, he thought, making sure she wouldn’t be charged as an accessory. Or trying to. But she knew, on some level, or she wouldn’t be afraid.
‘I will keep coming back to your family until I get the truth,’ he said. ‘And so far every single one of you has lied to me and my team.’
He gestured towards PCs Hale and Bright and they moved up the steps into the living room.
‘Harry, I’d like you to come with us, please.’
Nina went after them, quickly moving between them and her son.
‘You can’t arrest him, he hasn’t done anything.’
‘There are gaps in Harry’s alibi, we’d like to discuss that further.’
He stayed rooted to the sofa. ‘I didn’t kill Corinne.’
‘You were an hour late for work,’ Zigic said. ‘And you lied about that.’
‘I was hung-over,’ he said, throwing up his hands. ‘I’d had too much wine and I overslept.’
‘See, there’s a perfectly innocent explanation.’ Nina spread her arms wide as if to shield her son with her body. ‘You don’t need to take him anywhere.’
Hale gently moved her aside and Bright took hold of Harry Sawyer under the arm, guiding him to his feet.
‘It’s okay, Mum. It’ll all be alright.’
Nina whirled towards Brynn. ‘Do something.’
‘Mr Moran is coming with us as well,’ Zigic said. ‘Since he apparently can’t account for his movements at the time of Corinne’s murder either.’
‘No, he was here,’ she said, desperation etched on her face. ‘I told that woman, he was here when Corinne was killed.’
‘Then you should consider whether you want to stand by the alibi you gave him.’ Zigic saw the realisation hit home, her body stiffening. ‘Because either you were mistaken or you were lying.’
‘Oh my God.’ She touched her fingers to her mouth. ‘Brynn? What did you do?’
He backed away from her, unsteady on his feet. ‘Nina – love – no.’
‘You swore to me.’ Nina shoved him in the chest, sending him reeling back into the bookshelves. A couple of pictures hit the floor, glass smashing. ‘“She’s talking rubbish,” you said. “She just wants to get between us.”’
‘It was rubbish,’ Brynn said, his face colouring. Eyes only for Nina now, as if he could force her to believe it if only he could hold her wild gaze. ‘You know what she was like. She’d say anything to make you unhappy. Do you really think I’m like that?’
‘I don’t know what you are any more,’ she snarled.
‘This is exactly what she wanted. Don’t be stupid.’
Nina lashed out, slapped him across the cheek.
Bright was on her instantly, gripping her elbows, trying to draw her away, but she ducked and twisted and Harry was shouting, telling him to take his hands off her, diving towards the pair of them. Hale caught him by the shoulder, losing his footing on the rug. They crashed down in a heap, the cracking sound of bone on marble and Harry Sawyer let out a howl that echoed around the room’s high ceiling, rolled onto his back clutching his wrist.
Brynn bolted through the chaos, sweeping his forearm up to knock Zigic off balance as he ran past him, but Zigic was braced for it and threw himself after him. Brynn yanked the front door open and ran full pelt down the driveway.
Zigic swore as he pulled away, amazed at the speed from the older man as he charged into the road, not caring about the traffic, heading for the gateway onto Ferry Meadows.
Metal crunched and horns sounded but they were behind Zigic now and he kept running, trying to find the old speed he knew was in his legs but which had deserted him after months of underuse. He cursed every lie-in he’d had, the dark mornings and the cold weather.
In the distance Brynn’s red plaid shirt whipped past dog walkers and idle strollers and Zigic saw them turn to stare in his wake, no idea what was going on here, felt their disapproval as he did the same.
Brynn zigzagged around a woman with a pushchair and she shouted after him, causing him to turn for a split second. He didn’t see the dog running across his path or the long lead it was on. The dog let out a piercing yelp and Zigic saw the lead tangled around Brynn’s legs and the panic on his face as he tried to free himself.
The little terrier lay crying on the bridge. Its owner crouched over it, swearing at Brynn, and as he tried to stand the man yanked on the lead, unfooting him again but only for a moment.
As he started off once more Zigic launched himself at Brynn, caught him high around the thighs and slammed him down hard, the metal bridge ringing with the impact. He wrenched Brynn’s wrists behind his back and cuffed him, aware of the dog owner shouting at him, demanding action. The dog let out another low whine and Zigic dragged Brynn to his feet, seeing blood running down his cheek from a fresh gash.
‘I want a solicitor,’ he said, unable to meet Zigic’s eye.