CHAPTER 42

 

Dudley Grose slumped forward and banged his head on the table, the dull thuds echoing around the interview room. “Please stop doing that, Dr Grose,” said Lumley. “You’re not helping yourself.”

Grose stayed where he was with his forehead against the table. “Why won’t you just listen to me?” he said. “I didn’t kill her. Why would I kill her?”

“We found traces of Jenny’s blood in your car, Dr Grose, can you explain that?”

“Slater must have put it there.”

“And we found a gold charm that we know used to be on her charm bracelet.”

“He must have put that there too.”

“And there was dirt on your tires that matched soil at Battery Park where we found one of the body parts. Does Adrian Slater have access to your vehicle?”

“Maybe my wife left the rear door open. He was in my house, remember? Maybe he got a copy of the key. How do I know?”

Mitchell reached into a black holdall and took out a carving knife in a plastic evidence bag. “Do you recognize this, Dr Grose?”

Grose sat up and blinked at the knife. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” said Mitchell. “Do you or don’t you?”

“It looks like the knives we have in our kitchen. But I don’t know. How would I know? Who looks at their kitchen utensils?”

“We found this knife buried in your garden, Dr Grose. Under a bush.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I can show you photographs of the knife being dug up,” said Mitchell. “I can also tell you that although the knife had been wiped clean, we found traces of Jenny Cameron’s blood and your DNA on it.”

“If the knife is from my kitchen, of course it would have my DNA on it. But I wouldn’t bury it in the garden, would I?”

“And how do you explain the blood on the knife?” pressed Mitchell.

“Slater,” said Grose. “He must have put it there. Maybe he took it when he was in my house. Remember I reported it and you said there was nothing you could do.”

“And I can also tell you that we have matched this knife to marks on the various bones that we have so far uncovered and there is no doubt that it was used to dismember Jenny Cameron’s body.”

“It wasn’t me,” said Grose. “Why would I kill her? I loved her.”

“If you loved her, why didn’t you leave your wife?” asked Lumley. She stood and went to stand by the door, folding her arms. “We’ve spoken to your wife, she said that you’d never discussed divorce. As far as she’s concerned your marriage was just fine. A little stale, perhaps, but she had no reason to think you were going to leave her.”

“It was complicated,” said Grose. “If I’d moved in with Jenny I’d have lost everything. My house, my job.” He shrugged. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Because your job was important to you?” asked Lumley.

“Of course. Without my job I have no money, no health benefits, I’d have nothing.”

“And at fifty-two, that wouldn’t be a good position to be in, would it?”

“I assume that question is rhetorical,” said Grose. “Look, I loved Jenny. In a way, I still love my wife. If I’d been more of a man then yes I should have left my wife and moved in with Jenny. But I didn’t. But that sure as hell doesn’t give me a reason to want her dead.”

“If Jenny had told the Faculty about your relationship, you’d have lost your job, wouldn’t you?” said Lumley.

“Perhaps,” said Grose. “But she wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t that sort of person. She wasn’t vindictive.”

Lumley walked back to the table and sat down. Grose ran his hands through his hair and cursed.

“Dudley, look at me,” said Lumley quietly.

Grose put his hands down on the table and took a deep breath. “I did not kill Jenny Cameron,” he said.

“Dudley, did she tell you she was pregnant?”

The color drained from Grose’s face. “What?”

“She was carrying your baby. The DNA proves it was yours. She was eight weeks pregnant.”

Grose slumped in his chair and covered his face with his hands. He began to sob quietly.

“Did you know?” asked Lumley, her voice little more than a whisper. “Did she tell you she was pregnant?”

Grose looked up, blinking away tears. “Is that what you think? You think I killed her because she was having my baby?”

“I think that you killed her because if it became known that you’d made a student pregnant you’d lose your wife and your job. And probably never sell another book.” Grose shook his head and closed his eyes. “So you read Slater’s manuscript and thought maybe you could use that to put the blame on him. You cracked the code, some of it anyway. You killed Jenny and you buried the body parts in the places that Slater’s book described. You knew that Slater would be the obvious suspect. You just didn’t plan on being seen.”

Grose wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Seen? By who?”

“Someone dropped a dime on you,” said Mitchell. “A woman saw you putting the body parts into your car.”

“What woman?”

“Just a woman. She phoned it in.”

“Who is she?” asked Grose.

“It was anonymous,” said Lumley. “But anonymous or not, we’ve got all the evidence we need.”

“Slater made that call,” said Grose.

“It was a woman,” said Mitchell.

“Are you stupid?” hissed Grose. “Slater got her to call. It’s been Slater right from the start. Don’t you see?” He began to sob again.

“Are you prepared to give us a statement, Dudley?” asked Lumley. She pushed a yellow pad and a ballpoint pen across the table towards him. “You’re a writer, Dudley. Why not put it down in writing?”

“I want to be on my own,” said Grose. “I need to think. I need to get my head straight.”

Mitchell looked across at Lumley. “Let’s let Dr Grose have a few minutes to himself. I’m sure he’ll realize that the best thing to do is to tell us exactly what happened.”

“Can we get you a coffee, Dr Grose?” asked Lumley. “Or water?”

Grose nodded. “Water, please.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes.

The two detectives left the room and stood in the corridor. “What do you think?” asked Lumley.

“I think he’s going to confess,” said Mitchell. “Look at the tears. He’s sorry. He’s going to have to get it off his chest, sooner or later.”

Lumley folded her arms. “And we’re sure, we’re sure that he did it?”

“What’s the alternative? You think Slater could have set the whole thing up? Look at the evidence, Joe. We’ve got him on a plate.”

Lumley nodded. “I guess so.”

“Let’s see what Grose says after he’s had time to get his thoughts together. My bet is that he’ll tell us everything. If he doesn’t, okay, we can have another look at Slater. But my money is on the cry baby in there.”