The gates to Gary McCann's house were already open as Culverhouse negotiated the gravel driveway and parked his car in front of the house. McCann was standing in the driveway, watching closely as white-suited forensics officers entered and exited the house with all manner of technical equipment and personal belongings.
Culverhouse gave him a huge, beaming grin as he got out of his car and walked across the crunching gravel towards him.
‘I hope your men know what they're doing, Inspector. I'd like to see what grounds you've got for searching my bloody house.’
‘Well, the other option is to arrest you and then we can search the place under Section 18 without needing a warrant. Would that be more to your satisfaction?’ Culverhouse replied, smirking.
‘Arrest me for what, exactly? You’ve got no evidence of anything, which is why you’ve had to go down this route to find some. What did you tell the Magistrate? That I’d not comply? That there would be some sort of written confession hidden somewhere in my house?’
‘No need to get agitated, Mr McCann. If you're innocent then I'm sure all will be fine.’
‘When I’m innocent, it’ll be even less fine, Inspector Culverhouse, because I'll be having a little conversation with your Chief Constable about this.’
Culverhouse knew that Hawes would be more than happy to speak to Gary McCann about a few choice cases he'd looked at in the past. In fact, he was pretty sure that the Chief Constable would be very keen to re-open a few dry cases and tie up some loose ends where the CPS had previously decided a case couldn’t be tried. He was quite sure, though, that the conversation between Hawes and McCann would be somewhat one-directional.
‘I’m sure he'd be delighted to speak with you, Mr McCann. He’s probably got quite a few questions of his own and would be more than happy to delve a little more deeply into your whiter-than-white dealings. Now, do you have any questions regarding this particular investigation?’
‘Just the one. What the bloody hell do you think you're playing at?’
‘We're investigating the murder of Bob Arthurs, Mr McCann. Did our officers not explain that to you?’ Culverhouse asked innocently and facetiously.
‘What, and you think I killed the silly old bugger?’
‘Oh, I don’t believe anyone’s said that, Mr McCann. But there are a few things we need to check out. I think you might have information that could help advance our investigation. Perhaps a few things that you aren’t telling us.’
‘Very tactful, DI Culverhouse. Not like you at all. Starting to go a bit soft in your old age, are you? Or are you just starting to get over the fact that your missus did a runner?’
Culverhouse visibly stiffened at the mention of his wife — a sign which didn't go unnoticed by Gary McCann, who responded with a knowing smirk.
‘People die all the time, Inspector. You know that. Sometimes it’s an accident, sometimes it’s more deliberate. And people go missing quite a lot, too. Who knows why? Sometimes they go of their own volition, and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes no-one knows where they are, and sometimes someone does. It’s a mysterious old world, isn’t it, Inspector?’
‘I presume we're still talking about Bob Arthurs,’ Culverhouse said, knowing damned well exactly what Gary McCann was talking about.
McCann just smiled. ‘You tell me, Inspector. You tell me.’
As Culverhouse walked into the house and entered the dining room, he watched as the forensics team sifted through reams of paperwork from the sideboard cabinet and bagged the occasional item of interest.
He heard Gary McCann’s footsteps on the parquet flooring behind him.
‘Don't make too much of a mess, will you, boys? I've only just had this bloody carpet put in.’
‘I’m sure my men will do whatever it takes, Mr McCann. Anyway, I'm quite sure you've got nothing to worry about. You’ve already said you had nothing to do with anything, so this is all academic, isn’t it?’
‘If you were that sure, Inspector, you wouldn't be here ripping my bloody house apart. You’d be out looking for the real killer or someone who can actually be of some use to you.’
‘Oh, I only said I was quite sure, Mr McCann.’
Gary McCann swaggered slightly as he took a step towards Culverhouse, their noses barely inches apart. ‘Let’s cut the bullshit, shall we, Inspector? So you reckon I bumped off Bob Arthurs, do you?’