DI Sean Corrigan Crime Series: 6-Book Collection: Cold Killing, Redemption of the Dead, The Keeper, The Network, The Toy Taker and The Jackdaw

Sean’s broken hand was throbbing to distraction. The double dose of painkillers he’d swallowed two hours ago was wearing off. He was in no hurry. They would take a break. He checked his watch.

‘The time is now one thirty-six and I’m suspending this interview so that Mr Hellier can have his injuries examined by a doctor. We’ll continue the interview later.’ Sean moved to press the off button. Hellier stopped him.

‘Wait,’ he insisted. ‘Just wait a second.’

What now? What the hell was Hellier up to? Was he finally ready to end the charade?

‘I don’t care what your laboratory says or doesn’t say. I didn’t kill these people and I didn’t attack your precious Sergeant Jones.’

‘We’re not getting anywhere,’ Sean interrupted. ‘This interview is over.’

‘We’re both being used, Inspector,’ Hellier snapped back. ‘Last night, the night your sergeant was attacked, I received a call from a man. I received the call at about seven thirty. It was the same man who called me the night the Kotler woman was killed, at about seven p.m. He always called me on my mobile, except the first time. That was earlier in the afternoon, also on the day the Kotler woman was killed. On that occasion he telephoned my office. The secretary can confirm it.

‘Whoever made those calls was ensuring I had no alibi. He always arranged to meet me in places where there was nobody about who would remember me, but he never turned up. He made sure I went to great pains to lose the police surveillance. He always insisted I lost the surveillance – and now I know why.’

‘And I suppose this same mystery man planted your hair at the murder scene of Linda Kotler?’ Hellier shrugged his shoulders. ‘I haven’t got time to listen to this crap,’ Sean snapped.

‘I’m afraid you have no choice,’ Hellier reminded him. ‘It is your duty to investigate my defence statement, as I’m sure Mr Templeman was about to point out. You have no choice but to try and discover who it was that called me on those days at those times, whether you think it’s a waste of your precious time or not. If you don’t, then there’s not a judge in the land who wouldn’t throw the case against me out of court.’

Sean knew Hellier was right. As ludicrous as the alibi was, he had to investigate it. He had to prove it false.

‘Fine,’ Sean said. ‘I’ll need the number of the caller.’

‘I don’t have it.’

‘You said he called you on your mobile, so the number would have been displayed on the screen.’

‘Whenever he called, the number was blocked. The display said nothing.’

‘Did you try dialling one-four-seven-one?’

‘Same result. The number was withheld.’

‘Then there’s not much I can do.’

‘Come, come, Inspector,’ Hellier said. ‘You and I both know that with the right tools the caller’s number can be obtained. You already have my mobile phone. I suggest you have your lab rats examine it.’

‘It’ll be done,’ Sean said. ‘But it’ll take more than that to save you. This interview is concluded.’ Sean reached for the off switch, but stopped when he heard a sudden urgency in Hellier’s voice.

‘I sense your doubt,’ said Hellier. ‘Behind your determination to prove me guilty of crimes I didn’t commit, I know that really you’re not sure, are you? Something grinding away inside you, pulling you in a direction you don’t want to go, pulling you towards the belief that maybe, just maybe you’ve got the wrong man. And although you wouldn’t give a fuck if I rotted in prison, that thought would always be with you, wouldn’t it? The thought that someone out there got away with murder.’

Sean shook his head and gave a slight laugh. ‘You know, in a strange way I thought there would be more to you than this. I don’t know what exactly, but something. But it turns out you’re just another loser trying to save his worthless neck. There’s nothing special about you. You thought you couldn’t be caught, that you never made mistakes, but you did – not only the hair at Linda Kotler’s murder scene, but the fingerprints in Daniel Graydon’s flat.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Hellier said coldly. ‘Like I told you, I knew Graydon, I’d been to his flat. Anything belonging to me you found there means nothing.’

‘That’s true,’ Sean agreed. ‘But one thing’s been eating away at me about that ever since we found your fingerprint in the flat, and it’s exactly that: the fact we only found one print, on the underside of the bathroom door handle.’

‘What’s your point?’ Hellier asked.

‘One print? That makes no sense,’ Sean explained. ‘If you had no reason to conceal the fact you’d been there, then why didn’t we find more of your prints? We should have found dozens. You know what this says to me? It says you cleaned up the scene, wiped down everything you touched, but you missed one thing: the door handle.’

‘Daniel was very house proud,’ Hellier argued. ‘My other prints must have been wiped away when he cleaned.’

‘No,’ Sean snapped. ‘He couldn’t have, because we found multiple prints belonging to other people who had been in that flat after the date when you said you’d been in there. Daniel didn’t wipe your prints – you did. And why would you do that if you hadn’t killed him? Why, James?’

‘Because that’s the way I have to live my life,’ Hellier answered. ‘I look after myself. I’ve always had to. No one has ever done anything for me, ever.’

It was the first chink in Hellier that Sean had seen. The first crack in his persona, allowing a second’s glimpse into his soul. And in that second he could see that Hellier was made the way he was by some terrible circumstances in his past. What those circumstances were, Sean would probably never know, but now he knew that Hellier wasn’t born bad, someone else had made him that way. He felt a pang of empathy for the man, but this was no time to wonder about the boy Hellier had once been. A boy whose childhood may very well have mirrored his own.

‘I like to stay paranoid,’ Hellier continued, bringing Sean back to the present. ‘It keeps me ahead of the game. I touched little in his flat, and that which I did touch I wiped clean. People like Graydon are not to be trusted. He could have caused me problems.’

‘So you killed him before he had a chance to. Why not? You’d already killed Heather Freeman, but you were going to kill him anyway. You selected him as your next victim and a week later you killed him.’

‘No,’ Hellier shouted. ‘I didn’t kill any of them. You’re wrong. Completely wrong.’

‘We’re getting nowhere,’ Sean said, the frustration in his voice obvious. He was so tired he doubted he could properly structure a sentence let alone any intelligent questions. ‘We’ll take an hour’s break and try again.’ He reached for the off switch, but once more Hellier stopped him.

‘Does she have a guard?’ Hellier hurriedly asked. ‘At the hospital, your DS Jones. Does she have a guard?’

‘That’s not something I would ever be prepared to discuss with you,’ Sean answered.

‘Of course she does,’ Hellier continued. ‘Are they armed as well, these guards? I think so. I am right, aren’t I, Inspector? Which rather begs the question: why would you have her guarded by men with guns if you truly believe I am the one who would have her dead, when I’m safely locked up here with you? I just can’t work that one out. Can you?’

‘Standard procedure,’ Sean answered noncommittally.

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Hellier argued. ‘I really don’t think so. You have her guarded because you know I’m not the one. Her would-be destroyer is still out there, and you know it, don’t you? Don’t you, Inspector?’

‘I haven’t got time for this.’ Sean tried to push the fog of doubt from his mind.

‘I know who it is, Inspector. I know who killed these people and tried to kill DS Jones. The realization washed over me like a revelation. A moment of absolute clarity. It could only be him. Only he could know so much about me. Only he could watch me so closely.’

‘Who?’ Sean asked, voice rising. ‘Let’s play your little game. Tell me who.’

‘You already know.’ Hellier’s voice rose to match Sean’s.

‘Tell me, damn it,’ Sean demanded. ‘You need to tell me and you need to do it now, or this interview will be over and you’ll end up rotting in Broadmoor for someone else’s crimes.’

‘You already know,’ Hellier repeated. ‘If I know, you know. Use your imagination. Think as he thinks. Think as we think.’

Sean leaned forward to answer, but suddenly stopped, scene after scene suddenly playing in his mind, no longer under his control: the first time he entered Daniel Graydon’s flat; the body on the floor in a pool of blood; the autopsy; walking into Hellier’s office; the stench of his malevolence; Sebastian Gibran watching them. The photographs of Heather Freeman, her throat cut, blue staring lifeless eyes; Hellier’s snarling face when he arrested him at his office; Sebastian Gibran watching. Linda Kotler’s twisted and tortured body; Hellier admitting he practised sado-masochistic sex; Sebastian Gibran watching. Sebastian Gibran contacting Sally, meeting her, watching her. Sally attacked in her own home. The phone calls Hellier claimed to have received, the instructions he was given that denied him alibis; Sebastian Gibran watching, watching them all, playing them all – him against Hellier and Hellier against him, led by the nose like two lambs to the slaughter. But Hellier had worked it out, his hunger to survive driving him to the answer. And now the revelation washed over Sean too – Sebastian Gibran. Sebastian Gibran. Sebastian Gibran.

His eyes fell away to the ground as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in his damaged mind. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he finally declared as the face formed behind his eyes. ‘I need to get to the hospital. I need to go now.’

Sean jumped to his feet, knocking his chair over, the sound of Hellier’s growing laughter tearing at his ears.

‘Run to her, Inspector,’ Hellier tormented. ‘Run to her before he beats you to the prize.’

Sean ran from the interview room, almost knocking Donnelly over as he headed for the exit to the custody suite and the car park.