“Your client came to the door and told Karen Simms that if he had to come back again, she would regret it. Sounds pretty much like a threat to me, wouldn’t you say?”
“That’s bullshit,” Spence barked back, earning a silent but pointed look from his lawyer. But Spence didn’t seem to care. “I never went near that bloody house,” he continued, “and anybody who says I did is lying out their arse.”
“We have the date when you visited—November thirtieth. Around nine p.m. apparently. What’s the betting that street cameras and your phone signal put you there around that time, Gary?”
For a moment, Spence said nothing.
“Okay, maybe I went round there for a quick word,” he offered finally, earning yet another look from his lawyer, “but I was looking for Thomas Simms. I never threatened no one.”
“Of course not. You’re good as gold, aren’t you?” DS Sanderson said, picking up the baton. “Not that you’d know it from your record. ABH, GBH, attempted murder—”
“I was never convicted of that!” Spence protested.
“Lucky break, then, because you did throw a live grenade into the property of one of your particularly troublesome debtors, didn’t you?”
“Don’t answer that,” Spence’s brief cut in.
“And you’ve got a bit of form with fire, haven’t you?” Helen persevered, keeping the pressure on.
“A one-off mistake,” Spence dead-batted in return.
“Is that what you’d call it? I think you like to teach people who won’t pay a lesson,” Helen continued. “I think you like people to know that no one, absolutely no one, gets away with ripping you off. Am I right?”
Spence said nothing in response. Neither did his lawyer.
“The attack on the Simmses’ house was determined, organized andpersonal. Let me tell you what I think happened. I think you threatenedSimms and when he didn’t pay you, you wentbackto his house. We’ve applied for a warrant to check your phone records—it won’t take long to find out where you were, Gary.”
Spence just scowled, so Helen carried on:
“We know you’d had words with Bertrand Senior. Had you also lent money to Travell’s? Was this payback? A one-night spectacular to punish Thomas Simms? A warning to keep all your other debtors in line? I must say, Gary, I admire your style. You think big.”
Spence breathed out slowly. He looked weary and angry now. “Keep talking, Inspector. But know this. I was in bed last night. With my wife. And if my pug could talk, he’d tell you he was there too, sitting on the end of my bed from nine p.m. till six this morning. I didn’t do it and you can’t say I did. So do your work, run down your dead ends and then let me go. Interview over.”
28
“What do you think?”
Helen had gone straight to Gardam’s office, only to be told he was in the viewing suite with McAndrew, casting an eye over the latest batch of amateur footage from the fires. This made Helen instinctively feel uncomfortable—officers of his rank usually steered well clear of the coal face, and she didn’t appreciate him overseeing her team’s work. She resolved to ask Gardam why he felt the need to impose himself on her investigation but wasn’t given the chance. Having dismissed McAndrew from the viewing suite, her superior cut straight to the chase.
“Is he our man?”
“Hard to say,” Helen replied. “His alibi is hardly rock solid, but even if heistelling the truth, that still doesn’t mean he didn’t do it.”
“Because he’s got associates?”
“Precisely. Spence likes to throw his weight around, but he’s notstupid. He could have told one of his cronies to start the fires. If he did, then he reduces the personal risk but ups the chances of one of them talking—so our next move is to round up as many of his known associates as we can. They’ve all got mothers, so perhaps Karen Simms’s death will persuade them to help us.”
“Good.”
“We’re also going to look into Spence’s finances,” Helen continued. “I want to see if anyone’s putting the squeeze on him or if there’s any reason why he might want to lay down a marker in this way. I’ve got the team on it and I should have more shortly. We’re throwing everything we can at this.”
“Well, it sounds like you’ve got everything in hand. Keep me posted.”
“Of course.”
A brief silence followed. Helen had expected the conclusion of her update to prompt Gardam’s departure, but he made no move to leave. Instead he leaned back against the desk, staring right at her, as if trying to read her mind.
“What’s your feeling on this one, Helen?”
