Gerry Stokes was manning the operation when they got to the dry cleaner’s. No longer huddled over his workstation like a Dickensian haberdasher, he was serving a customer when Cross and Ottey arrived. He was dressed differently, wearing the trousers and waistcoat of a three-piece suit and a smart shirt and tie – but still with the green editor’s visor. The customer he was dealing with was chatting happily away to him, long after she’d been given her dry cleaning. Gerry kept smiling indulgently at the customer and nodding his head understandingly, with the occasional apologetic glance towards the waiting detectives. Finally she left and Cross and Ottey walked over.
‘Sergeants, good afternoon,’ he said cheerily.
Cross thought he looked different. He was standing taller. He appeared to be happier, which struck Cross as slightly odd, bearing in mind the man’s son was in police custody on suspicion of murder. Perhaps he was just fulfilled. Was it because he was back to doing what he loved – running his business? Or was it simply the relief of his son not being there, parading around?
Gerry smiled ruefully when told of Sunetra’s identifying him on the day of Flick’s death.
‘I should have mentioned this earlier,’ he said.
‘Yes. You should’ve,’ agreed Ottey.
‘I just thought it might confuse things.’
‘Well, it certainly has us confused now. So perhaps you’d like to clear it up for us at the MCU.’
‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary,’ he said.
‘Really?’ Ottey replied.
‘I was there that day in a last-ditch attempt to see if we could settle the wretched tribunal business once and for all.’
‘Someone certainly did that,’ said Cross. ‘Very much finished it, once and for all.’
‘How were you going to achieve that? Offer her more money?’ Ottey asked.
‘No, no, Sergeant. Please don’t confuse me with my son. I offered her restitution, obviously, and I promised that Danny would make a public apology. It wouldn’t be brushed under the carpet. He would have to acknowledge his wrongs. That the other girls who had been willing to join her in the action would be compensated and, where possible, offered employment. I also guaranteed that Danny would never behave in such a way again.’
‘How could you guarantee that?’ asked Cross.
‘By making sure he wasn’t in a position to do so,’ Gerry replied.
‘Meaning?’ Cross persisted.
‘I was going to take him out of the front-of-house part of the business. He would manage my other commercial interests, but from behind a desk. Mostly property where he would have no contact with vulnerable young women. I was also going to make arrangements for the laundry to be put in trust for Hopewell House, as a kind of employment halfway-house for their clients, when they first leave rehab. Male or female,’ he said proudly.
‘Was he happy with that?’ Ottey asked.
‘No, the truth is he was furious, and, in saying that, I’m well aware that it could look like I’m giving you motive, but I do so in the confidence that he didn’t kill Flick.’
‘Confidence is one thing. Proof is another,’ Cross commented.
‘He doesn’t have it in him, Sergeant,’ Gerry said.
‘Maybe he doesn’t. Do you?’ Cross asked.
‘I didn’t kill her. She liked me and I liked her. I’d go as far as to say she was fond of me, in an avuncular sort of way. I think she also felt a little sorry for me. The way Danny behaved – she knew it was difficult for me.’
‘Why do you let him get away with it?’ Ottey asked.
‘Danny has been through quite a lot. He’s adopted and has a lot of emotional issues tied up with all of that. In his case rejection, an inability to form long-lasting relationships. I’m not excusing him. I don’t think he helps himself at all. It’s why we got involved in Hopewell, Betty and I. Danny’s birth mother was a drug addict and put him up for adoption. Betty had more control of him but even she struggled.’
Cross noticed that lots of the workers had stopped and were listening to Gerry. This was news to them, obviously.
‘So maybe I do make excuses for him because I know it hasn’t been easy for him. But we reached the point with Flick and the others where it had to stop,’ Gerry said.
‘The issue here, Mr Stokes, is that we have a witness placing you at Flick’s flat the night of her death,’ said Cross.
‘Ah, okay. Well, I didn’t kill her and I have someone who can actually prove that.’
‘Who?’ asked Ottey.
‘Flick,’ he replied.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Ottey.
‘She was smart, worldly-wise, that girl. She was pleased to see me. After all, she asked me into the flat. But she insisted on recording the entire meeting on her phone. Do you have her phone?’ he asked.
‘We do,’ Ottey answered. ‘It’s being examined at the moment.’
‘Well, it’s in there somewhere. The entire meeting, and I don’t believe she switched it off before I left.’
On her way out Ottey saw Karen who waved half-heartedly, almost embarrassed. But it was enough for Ottey to go over. She handed Karen a card.
‘This has my mobile number on it. Call me if you want.’
‘Do you think he did it? Killed Flick?’ She sounded frightened.
‘I don’t know as yet. But, Karen, I think you have something you want to tell us. So when you’re ready, give me a call. Okay?’