The doctor patched up Brynn Moran’s cut face while they waited for his solicitor to arrive. Zigic stood in the treatment room as the young woman worked, watching Brynn carefully, seeing nothing but a numbness in the slack line of his jaw and how he sat on the edge of the bench, slumped over, feet dangling, all the spirit drained out of him.
He didn’t even flinch when the needle went into his cheek, shooting it full of anaesthetic before the stitches could be applied. The wound was deep and wide and would leave an ugly scar, but that was the least of his worries right now.
When the doctor was finished Zigic had Moran taken to the cells and begged a couple of ibuprofen for his own injury. A bruise was already blooming on his kneecap from where he took Moran down, a nasty lump on the bone which stung every time he put his weight on his right leg, flexed it or walked or whenever the fabric of his jeans rubbed against it.
Running would be out of the question for a couple of weeks now, he thought grimly, stepping into the lift.
Ferreira was waiting for him in Hate Crimes and she followed him into his office.
‘Brynn?’ she asked, dropping into the chair opposite Zigic. ‘Are you sure?’
‘He ran.’
‘Where did he think he was going?’
‘God knows. I think he just panicked and took off. I don’t think there was a big plan behind it. Just flight instinct.’ Zigic swallowed the pills with a mouthful of cold coffee. ‘Honestly, I’m not convinced he’s even responsible yet.’
Ferreira leaned forward, arms on the edge of his desk. ‘What did he say?’
‘Nothing. I’m waiting for his solicitor. Hopefully he’ll come clean now but if not … Harry’s the one who really knows what went on down there. I’m pretty sure the pair of them were keeping Nina in the dark.’
‘So, why not question Harry first? Go see Moran armed.’
‘Harry’s at City Hospital. He got injured during the arrest.’
Ferreira whistled softly. ‘That’s going to be a fun report to write up.’
‘It was his own fault.’
She tapped his desk with her fingertips. ‘I really don’t think we should be ruling out Harry, you know. I was wondering – actually – do you think Nina and Brynn were involved before she split with Corinne? Maybe Harry’s his kid, he’d take the fall for his own son, wouldn’t he?’
Zigic swivelled from side to side in his chair. ‘Are you really that bored in CID?’
‘I am so bored. Adams has had me going through Walton’s files. He’s currently throwing a shit-fit of epic magnitude by the way.’
‘Because we’ve caught Corinne’s killer?’
‘He was banking on using Corinne to leverage Walton’s girlfriend into withdrawing her alibis. Which she’ll never do.’ Ferreira smiled. ‘And his ego’s a bit bruised, I think.’
The phone on Zigic’s desk rang. He picked up, listened for a few moments.
‘Brynn’s ready to make a statement.’
‘Very magnanimous of him,’ Ferreira said. ‘Does that sound like it’ll be a confession to you?’
‘If he’s got any sense it will be.’
‘Can I sit in?’ She stood as he did. ‘Murray doesn’t know the case as well as I do. Be much better this way.’
‘You know you can’t.’ He gestured at his computer. ‘Watch the feed though, just in case we miss anything.’
A couple of minutes later he entered Interview Room 1, Murray behind him, trying to conceal annoyance she was carrying on DCI Adams’s behalf, no doubt.
Brynn Moran sat in the chair against the wall, sagging under the weight of the suspicion he’d brought on himself. He’d flagged his guilt the moment he bolted out of that house and nothing his solicitor might have said to him in the interim could have improved his options.
She was one of the duty solicitors, Zigic noted, as he sat down opposite her. Mrs Peele. She’d been around forever, was competent and diligent and brought very little ego to proceedings, which was a welcome change from how many of her colleagues conducted themselves. But she wasn’t the solicitor Brynn Moran would have if Nina was involved, Zigic suspected. Were the Sawyer family drawing away from him already?
Murray set up the tapes, the time was recorded, the names were stated and before Zigic could say another word Mrs Peele spoke up.
‘Mr Moran has instructed me that he is prepared to make full confession regarding the death of Corinne Sawyer. He will not answer any questions and this statement will be his full and final comment on the matter.’
Brynn sat with his arms folded, his hand cupping his jaw, fingertips over the stitches on his cheek. He stared into middle distance, eyes unblinking, mouth slightly open. A doctor could argue it was shock, Zigic thought, but he wasn’t going to delay this by questioning the man’s current state of mind. Not if he wanted to confess.
He nodded at Mrs Peele. ‘Let’s hear it then.’
She passed Brynn her notepad and as she did so Zigic saw the extent of the statement. Three lines, printed in large block capitals.
Brynn held the pad against the edge of the table, his chin tucked into his chest. He cleared his throat, a thick, wet noise in the quiet of the room, before he began to speak.
‘I am solely responsible for the murder of Corinne Sawyer. At no point were any members of the Sawyer family aware of what I’d done, before or after the event.’
For a few seconds he kept clutching the pad, staring at the words he’d just read out, as if he didn’t quite understand what he’d said. Then he put it down, folded his arms once again and inclined his face away from them.
‘That is in no way a full confession,’ Zigic said. Brynn lifted his shoulder slightly as if trying to shield himself. ‘Mrs Peele, this is not acceptable. I think you should impress upon your client the seriousness of the charge he’s facing, as well as the penalties for making a false confession.’
‘I can assure you, Detective Inspector, that my client is well aware of the gravity of the situation and his confession is valid.’ Mrs Peele slipped the notepad away into her satchel. ‘I believe that’s all we need to say on the matter at present, yes?’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Zigic said, trying to keep the anger and frustration out of his voice but he could hear that he’d failed. ‘Why did you kill her, Brynn?’
‘Mr Moran is not obliged to answer that,’ Mrs Peele said, snapping the catches on her bag.
Zigic ignored her. ‘Are you protecting Harry?’
Brynn’s chin tucked lower into his chest, jowls rumpling, and he kept staring at the white-painted wall. Zigic wanted to look him dead in the eye, sure that if he could he would see the lie there.
‘Why are you prepared to take the fall for him?’
‘Really, Inspector—’
‘Brynn, you’re making a mistake,’ he said. ‘We have DNA evidence on Corinne’s body and if it doesn’t match yours then you’ll be charged with making a false confession, perverting the course of justice and wasting police time. You’re looking at a custodial sentence for that.’
He could hear Brynn’s breathing, fast and shallow, a slight whine as he exhaled. He wasn’t sure if he’d hit a nerve or if this was just the normal fear of a man confessing to a murder he never believed he’d be caught for.
‘You have an alibi,’ he said.
No response.
‘Or was Nina lying?’
Silence, except for the whistling breath.
Zigic glanced at Murray, saw her studying Moran, eyes narrowed, and he knew she’d seen it too. The tightening of his eyelids in pain or concern.
‘No, not that,’ Zigic said. ‘You’re her alibi too, right? You were covering for her.’
Mrs Peele stood up sharply, dropping her satchel onto the table with a crack. ‘This interview is over, DI Zigic. Mr Moran has made his statement, he has confessed to the murder of Corinne Sawyer. Any further questions are not yours to pose.’
‘Corinne was trying to get between you,’ Zigic went on. ‘That’s what you said back at the house. Is that why she had to die?’
Brynn’s body kept contracting, shrinking away from the force of Zigic’s voice and the questions he couldn’t or wouldn’t answer.
‘Is Nina worth protecting?’ Zigic asked, quietly, conspiratorially. ‘You and Colin were like brothers. You were more family to him than you are to Nina.’
Brynn winced, his big upper body folding over like he’d been punched in the heart, face clenching in a pain which looked physical and for a second Zigic wondered if he was having a coronary. But he wasn’t.
Mrs Peele shoved her chair back under the table. ‘That is enough. If you do not end this now I’ll be making a formal complaint to your superior officer.’
Zigic nodded to Murray.
‘Interview terminated 4.32 p.m.’