‘Tried to kill her and her husband,’ Eastwood continued. ‘We’ve checked your record, and we can see that you were arrested for threatening words and behaviour on the date that Mrs Ashcroft was sentenced.’
‘That woman killed my wife, and she walked out of court with a slap on a bloody wrist. She should have been sent to jail to rot so I—’
Larry stopped, his chest rising and dropping as anger visibly swarmed him. ‘I had a few things to say outside of court.’
‘You threatened to kill Tabitha Ashcroft,’ said Stanford.
‘How many times have you said that you want to kill someone?’ asked Larry, turning to Stanford. ‘It doesn’t mean that I would actually do it. I was just angry.’
‘And are you still angry?’ asked Eastwood.
‘What do you think? I’m sitting here with you two and my wife is in Croydon Cemetery.’
‘Last Sunday night, Tabitha and Graham were attacked in their home. Tabitha managed to escape but Graham wasn’t so lucky. He was stabbed and was run over by a car.’
‘I don’t have a car,’ Larry said quickly.
‘DVLA records say you own a 2012 Skoda Octavia,’ said Stanford.
‘That’s a mistake. I sold it.’
‘When?’
‘When Sherri was killed by a car.’
‘Before the attack, the Ashcrofts had their car tyres slashed and had been receiving threatening letters,’ Eastwood added.
‘That wasn’t me,’ Larry replied as his eyes cast to the left. ‘If that’s what you’re trying to suggest.’
‘I’m not going to suggest it, but I am going to ask if you’ve been to the Ashcrofts’ house?’
Larry shook his head. ‘I don’t even know where they live.’
‘They’ve also alleged that you blackmailed them.’
‘I did what?’
‘Blackmailed them. Asked for money. £10,000 which they paid to you.’
Eastwood and Stanford kept their eyes on Larry as he placed his hands on his legs and straightened his back. The TV played quietly as the kittens meowed and Larry breathed heavily.
‘That is. A. Lie,’ Larry said calmly. ‘A bloody lie.’
‘Did you send them letters and demands for money?’ asked Stanford.
‘Are you really going to believe the words of a murderer?’ Larry asked.
‘Where were you last Sunday, late in the evening, just before midnight?’
‘I was here, at home. I went to my son’s house for Sunday lunch. I was back by five – five-thirty. I spent the evening doing my lesson prep and I fell asleep right here, in front ofMatch of the Day 2. I woke up about 2 a.m. and went upstairs to bed,’ Larry replied, his tone becoming angrier.
‘Were you home alone?’
‘My wife is dead.’
Stanford looked across at Eastwood who was studying Larry intently.
‘Do I need a lawyer?’ Larry asked, breaking the silence. ‘Because these questions you’re asking me, I don’t like it.’
