Chapter 39

‘What do you think, Moray?’ asked Sutton. Ruskin had been watching the interview of Rodney Shaw over a video link. Shaw had again denied the murder of Father Daugherty and then requested a break to speak with his solicitor.

‘He’s lying,’ stated the young constable.

‘Everybody lies,’ said Sutton. ‘I don’t think there’s a person who steps inside that room who doesn’t lie. And that includes us.’

‘Bit of a cynical view, don’t you think?’ said Ruskin.

‘Not at all, it’s a simple fact of human nature. Everybody lies. All the time. The question is, do the lies matter? Are they important to us or this case?’

‘So you reckon that he might be lying about something that has no bearing on our investigation?’

‘Perhaps. People lie because they are ashamed of something, or because the truth might get them into trouble. Sometimes they lie because they think that something innocent could be taken the wrong way, or sometimes just because they don’t think the answer is any of our damn business. It’s your job to decide which lies are important and which aren’t. Which lies do you pursue and which do you let go? Which ones do you let slide then pull them up on later? If we can catch them in a lie in one area, it can strengthen our hand in another. Sometimes it’s the little, provable lie that gives us enough justification to get a search warrant. You’ve seen how it works.’

‘I suppose it’s true what you say. I certainly saw that when I was in uniform. I remember arresting one guy who’d been accused of shoplifting. We made him empty his pockets, and he copped to the two bottles of vodka he’d concealed in his tracksuit bottoms. But the security guard reckoned he might have something else in his underwear, because he was sitting funny. The bloke swore blind that there was nothing down his undies, and that he couldn’t sit right because he had really bad piles. Anyway, we didn’t believe him, he was definitely lying. So when we took him back to the nick, we arranged for him to be strip-searched. He made a right fuss, and we were like, “mate, you’ve already been done for nicking the vodka, just admit to it. Kicking off isn’t going to make things any better”.

‘Eventually we persuaded him to remove his trousers and it turns out he’s wearing his wife’s frilly knickers. They were so small his balls were practically blue, no wonder he couldn’t sit properly.’

‘What did you do?’

‘Took ourselves outside, had a bloody good laugh, then did him for the stolen vodka. We decided not to mention his lack of cooperation.’

‘Exactly. It was a lie that didn’t matter. You know DS Pymm lied to my face first thing this morning?’

Ruskin was shocked.

‘Yep, a straight up lie.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I let it go. Not important.’

‘What was it about?’ asked Ruskin, without thinking.

‘Well, not that it’s any of your business, but when she came out of the lift this morning, I asked her how she was and she said “fine”.’

‘Oh.’

‘I knew she wasn’t fine, because she’d just walked across the carpark after some thoughtless idiot parked in the disabled bay because they didn’t want to get wet. She’s been doing overtime and isn’t even due in today. Yet here she is.

‘This morning she lied to my face, and said she was fine. I let it go, because I know that she doesn’t want anyone to make a fuss – she has too much dignity to accept help unless she really needs it – and because I trust her judgement.’

‘I see what you’re saying, sir.’

Ruskin stood up and reached for his wallet and keys.

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m going to move my car and buy Rachel a slice of her favourite cake.’

‘Good lad, I knew you’d get the hint. When you’re done, go and check out some of Rodney Shaw’s lies.’