23

Geraldine and Ian sat down facing Jonathan across an interview table.

‘You don’t mind if we record this conversation, do you?’ Ian asked.

He leaned back, affecting a casual pose, while Jonathan fidgeted in his chair, his voice rising in agitation as he fired a series of protests.

‘Do I mind? Yes, I bloody well do mind. What is all this? Am I being arrested? If so, I demand to know on what grounds. You can hardly charge me with disturbing the peace. Heckling at a public meeting isn’t a crime, nor is disagreeing with someone in a position of power. At least, it wasn’t a crime last time I looked. I wasn’t aware we were living in a police state yet. I demand to know what’s going on.’ He glared at Geraldine. ‘You said I was just coming here for a chat. You said nothing about a formal interview. Do I need a lawyer?’ He paused for breath. ‘I refuse to say anything until I have a lawyer. All I will say is that I’m entitled to hold what political views I choose, and I’ve broken no laws. I take it David Armstrong is behind this?’

Geraldine glanced at Ian before replying. ‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’

‘This is outrageous,’ Jonathan cried out. ‘This really is the last straw.’

Geraldine and Ian had allowed him to talk freely, but he let nothing incriminating slip. Finally he sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and was silent. Geraldine had a fleeting impression that he might be enjoying the attention.

‘We’re not interested in your political views which, as you have reminded us, do not break the law,’ she said quietly. ‘We’re investigating the unlawful killing of David Armstrong.’

‘Unlawful killing? You mean he’s dead?’

Geraldine nodded. ‘Yes, David Armstrong was murdered.’

‘Well, well, bloody hell.’ Jonathan shook his head, frowning. ‘I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry to hear it, although I probably shouldn’t say that out loud. Still, it’s not like I ever kept my feelings a secret. No, I can’t say I’m the slightest bit sorry.’

‘A man has been murdered,’ Ian said, emphasising the final word in the sentence.

‘He was asking for it,’ Jonathan muttered.

Geraldine studied him. His face was pale and solemn, and he showed no signs of surprise.

‘Are you saying you think he deserved to be murdered?’ she asked.

A wary expression crossed Jonathan’s face. ‘That’s not what I said,’ he replied cautiously. ‘I mean, no one deserves to be killed, do they? All I’m saying is that he was a nasty man with repugnant ideas who should never have been put in a position of power.’ He paused for a second. ‘You probably know that he was instrumental in cutting back the school library service? And you probably also know that I was a librarian, responsible for a group of schools, and now I’m on the scrap heap, and teachers are expected to do the job now, on top of everything else they do. So these days the job doesn’t get done at all. That’s his doing, David Armstrong. It’s not just my job that’s gone; it’s the opportunity for children to be introduced to new books, not that the schools can afford new books.’ He scowled. ‘But of course I don’t think he should have been murdered, and I’ll thank you not to put words in my mouth. If you ask me whether I think he ought to have been locked up for what he did, then yes, I do. He deserved whatever punishment the law could throw at him. But no one deserves to be murdered. We’re not savages, although it’s sometimes hard to believe. We do live in a civilised society. We’ve done away with the death penalty. But, what I am saying is that I’m not surprised someone went for him. I’m not the only person whose life he’s ruined. I used to have a worthwhile job and I worked hard; and look at me now, living in a rented room on the bread line. How is that justice? You tell me.’

‘I’d like you to think very carefully, Jonathan. Is there anyone you know who might have hated David Armstrong enough to kill him?’

Jonathan snorted. ‘Only everyone who ever had the misfortune to have any dealings with him,’ he replied.

‘But anyone in particular?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m telling you, it could have been anyone. And now, I refuse to answer any more of your questions until I have a lawyer present.’ He paused, and then either curiosity overcame his caution, or he was more calculating than he appeared. ‘How did he die?’

‘I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to disclose any details,’ Ian replied.

‘Well, I’m not saying another word without a lawyer.’

Clearly the implications of what they had told Jonathan had finally sunk in, and he began fidgeting nervously with the edge of the table. He must have realised by now that he might be suspected of having committed the murder, or at least of being involved in it in some way. But if it was possible his anxiety was prompted by the prospect of being unjustly accused of murder, it might equally well be due to guilt, and fear that the police would discover the truth.

Ian and Geraldine had no option but to wait for a duty solicitor to arrive.

‘Am I being arrested?’ Jonathan demanded, in a tone that sounded almost triumphant.

‘We simply want to ask you some questions. Whether or not you’re arrested on a murder charge remains to be seen,’ Ian replied.

The duty brief arrived after a couple of hours, a twitchy young woman with mousy hair who sat listening in silence throughout most of the interview.

‘Where were you on Tuesday evening between seven and midnight?’ Ian asked.

Jonathan shrugged. ‘I can’t remember,’ he muttered. ‘Probably at home.’

‘Were you alone?’

Jonathan glanced at the lawyer. ‘Given that I can’t remember where I was, it’s hard to answer that.’

‘My client has stated that he doesn’t remember where he was on the evening in question,’ the lawyer added unhelpfully.

‘Tell us about your relationship with David Armstrong,’ Geraldine said.

‘There was no relationship. I didn’t know the man.’

‘You were witnessed heckling him in public and verbally assaulting him in a car park,’ Ian pointed out.

‘Yes, I know who he is – who he was,’ Jonathan replied. ‘I didn’t meet him in any personal way. I just disagreed with his policies and everything he stood for: middle-class privilege, private wealth, and social injustice. It was nothing personal. We clashed on points of principle.’ He glanced at his lawyer. ‘That’s all. I detested him in an impersonal kind of way, like I detest most of the politicians in government and on the council. But just because I find their policies abhorrent doesn’t mean I intend to go around killing them.’

‘Yet you focused your attacks on David Armstrong alone,’ Ian pointed out. ‘He was the target for your aggression.’

‘Hardly aggression,’ Jonathan said. ‘I might have raised my voice a few times, but that’s what you do when you heckle at a public meeting. There’s no point if other people can’t hear what you’re saying. And surely the whole point of such meetings and so-called consultations is to give members of the public a chance to air their views?’

Ian leaned forward. ‘Did you ever visit Mr Armstrong at home?’

Jonathan shook his head. ‘Absolutely not. I don’t even know where he lives. We weren’t exactly on visiting terms.’ He smiled grimly. ‘Not what you might call friends.’

‘What about the letter you sent to his home?’ Ian asked.

Jonathan looked puzzled. ‘I never wrote him a letter. How could I when I don’t know where he lived.’

‘Do you know his widow?’ Geraldine asked suddenly.

For the first time, Jonathan looked startled. ‘His widow?’ he repeated. ‘What about his widow?’

Geraldine sensed that she had somehow rattled him, although she wasn’t sure why. Before she could continue, Jonathan spoke again.

‘I do know his widow. That is, I know who she is. She used to accompany him to his public meetings, although goodness knows why. It’s not like she was on the council or anything. It seemed as though she just went along because she was his wife.’

Geraldine nodded. She had seen images of David Armstrong arriving at meetings in libraries and church halls, with his wife at his side. She was clearly keen to be seen to support him. Geraldine wondered for whose benefit she was demonstrating her loyalty to her husband.

‘How do you know who she was if you didn’t know them personally?’ Ian enquired.

‘She went to meetings with him,’ Jonathan replied. ‘I saw her there. And anyway, you’ve only got to look him up online to see them together.’

‘So you admit you looked him up online?’

‘What if I did?’

‘Why would you do that?’

‘How else was I going to find out where he was next appearing in public?’

‘You admit you were stalking him?’

‘I wasn’t stalking him, I just needed to find out where he was speaking so I could attend the meetings and express my opposition. It’s what we do in a free society. We do still have free speech in England. And yes, I admit, I tried to get other people who were opposed to his policies to come to the meetings as well and voice their opinions with me. The more people we could get to heckle him, the better. We needed to show people that there is another way.’

‘By throwing eggs at his car?’ Ian asked. ‘Risking causing a serious traffic accident?’

The lawyer shook her head, indicating that her client shouldn’t answer, but Jonathan ignored the silent warning.

‘It wasn’t just me. And yes, that was stupid, but it was done in a fit of anger because he refused to listen to our demands.’

‘A fit of anger,’ Ian repeated thoughtfully, ‘in a man who admits he deliberately set out to orchestrate a hate campaign against David Armstrong?’

Jonathan sighed. ‘You’re not listening, are you? It was nothing personal. I was never attacking Armstrong himself; it was his policies we were protesting about. If he’d backed down and stopped closing public services, I’d have cheerfully clapped him on the back and bought him a pint. But he didn’t.’

‘And now he’s dead,’ Geraldine said.

‘Yes, now he’s dead,’ Jonathan agreed in a flat voice. ‘But that had nothing to do with me. Look, all I did was shout at him a bit. It was harmless enough. He didn’t even take any notice.’

‘Was throwing eggs at his car another harmless gesture?’ Ian asked.

Jonathan shrugged.

‘My client has admitted it was a foolish action which he now regrets,’ the lawyer responded. ‘If Mr Armstrong did drive dangerously as a result of my client’s actions, that was Mr Armstrong’s choice and not my client’s responsibility. At no time did my client seek to coerce Mr Armstrong into driving the car after my client and his associates had thrown eggs at it.’

They warned Jonathan that he could still be charged with harassment and released him, with instructions not to leave York. They had no evidence to implicate him in the murder of David Armstrong, but he remained a potential suspect.