Blind Fury

Chapter Sixteen

With the assistance of Manchester Constabulary, John Smiley was arrested at four-fifteen the following morning. He gave no resistance, but his wife, Sonja, became abusive and tried to stop officers from beginning their search of the premises. The van sold to him by Michael Dillane was discovered in a garage three streets away from his home. This was put on a loader and driven to London for the forensic team to begin work on. Hidden in a tool bag in the garage and neatly folded into a John Lewis carrier bag were a black jacket with lapels, a white shirt, and a security guard’s hat. They also removed the delivery van used by Smiley from the Swell Blinds offices early the same morning.

The search teams worked through the last of the night and into the following morning, removing bags of possible evidence. Within the bags were receipts, a log of private customers, and a paper bag containing over two thousand pounds in cash. They also removed from the garage some stacked blinds, all neatly covered in bubble wrap, with the sizes and shades carefully printed on a card on the front of each item.

The team in London began to assimilate all of the new evidence in readiness to begin the interrogation of John Smiley. His lawyer, James Gregson, was contacted, and he was soon closeted in an interview room with his client. John Smiley was to be charged with four counts of murder. His fingerprints were taken on arrival and went directly to the forensic lab.

It became clear that they would not get to interrogate John Smiley that day. His lawyer insisted that he would not allow his client to be interviewed until he was satisfied that full consultation with him concerning the disclosure was completed. He talked to Langton in Mike Lewis’s office, saying that as there were likely to be four murder charges, he must be allowed more time with Smiley. Langton agreed that he could continue his disclosure discussions and that they would conduct the interview the following morning.

It was infuriating, as the team was eager to gain a result after such an extensive investigation, and none of them, especially Anna, had expected to be released for the evening. They would reconvene at eight the following morning, Langton said, and stressed that they should use the time to prepare for the interrogation. He and Travis would handle the interview.

After he had left, Barolli insinuated that it was Langton who needed the time to get up to speed on all their accumulated evidence.

Anna ignored his snide remark; she was pleased that Langton had insisted she interrogate John Smiley with him, and she was confident they would gain a result, if not a confession.

Anna rang Ken as soon as she got back, but his mobile phone was turned off. She called his flat and left a message to say that she was at home. She showered and did a review of the case file until quite late. She didn’t want to go to sleep until she’d had the opportunity to talk to him.

It was almost midnight when Ken finally rang. He apologized immediately for not returning her calls but said that it had been a hard day.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“You first. Tell me what you’ve been working on.”

“We’ve got enough to charge John Smiley.” She didn’t go into detail.

“That’s a positive result?” He sounded pleased for her.

“It will be if we get him to confess. We’ve got him a lawyer who is young and wants to prove himself, so he’s crossing all the T’s and insisting on lengthy discussions about the disclosures.”

“But you’re certain you’ve got the right guy?”

“Yes.”

Ken was keen to talk about their future rather than work, and they happily began discussing wedding dates. Anna wanted to know where they should have the ceremony and reception. Ken laughed when he found out that she wanted it to be the full monty: he was to wear a morning suit and, if possible, to get his brother back from Australia to be best man. Ken said he’d try but wasn’t certain Robin would make the trip back for a wedding. He was thinking of asking Lizzie’s husband, Ian, or an officer he was pals with at the prison.

“It’s your choice,” Anna said. “I won’t be having any bridesmaids, but I’d like your nephews as pageboys.”

“They’d love it, but no velvet, please. They’re real boys.”

She laughed, saying that she knew that, but she’d like them to be in suits, and one would carry the ring cushion.

Ken said he’d talk to Lizzie and that maybe he could swing a weekend leave, but after the nightmare day he’d had, it might not be in the cards.

“Why, what’s happened?”

“Cameron Welsh, that’s what. First he appeared to be getting himself straightened out and asked if he could make himself an omelette. As he’d been refusing to eat for days, we were only too pleased to allow him into the kitchen. He was very friendly — now that I think about it, too much so. He asked if he could brew up a pot of tea for the officers, and it was fortunate that Brian — he’s the guy I want for my best man if Rob can’t make it — went into the kitchen to check up on him.”

Anna was shocked when Ken said that Brian had found Welsh using a one-inch nail file to shave a shard of glass into the bowl of eggs; he had also put some into the teapot.

“We couldn’t be sure if he was trying to make himself so ill that he’d be hospitalized, or whether we were his targets.”

“Why would he do that?”

“For one, if we’d all drunk the tea, we’d have been hurt or maybe even dead — likewise himself, if he’d eaten the omelette — but I think he was paying us back. Again, if he’d been taken to the hospital, he might have been planning an escape.”

“Paying you back?”

“Yeah. He may have been in the kitchen and overheard.”

“Overheard what?”

“Brian congratulating me about our engagement. I told you that Welsh has this fixation with you, didn’t I?”

“So it was you he was targeting?”

“That’s what I think, but if we’d all drunk his tea, we’d have all been hurt. Anyway, he’s been locked up round the clock, and we’ve taken all his privileges, so he’s not a very happy camper.”

“How did he get the nail file into his cell?”

“Christ only knows. It was only about an inch long, so he could have had it hidden for years. As he’s had no visitors, it was doubtful anyone could have brought it in. You’d be surprised what they can smuggle in or buy off another inmate.”

They continued talking for another half hour before Anna said she should get some sleep, as she wanted to be fresh for the morning.

“Listen, due to the situation here, we’re working round the clock, and I’m due some time off this week,” Ken said. “How about if I ride down?”

Anna said she could think of nothing she’d like better. For one thing, it would mean they could work out the wedding date and invitation list. After they hung up, she slept soundly, she had done so ever since being with Ken. She no longer felt that restlessness and obsession with mulling over the case files in her head.

She was dressed and ready for action by seven-thirty the following morning, eager to get on with the interrogation of John Smiley. When she reached the station, Anna was surprised to see Langton already there. He had coffee and a toasted bacon sandwich, and as soon as he saw her, he asked for a word in Mike Lewis’s office.

“Listen, I’ve had a bit of a development,” he said. “I’m not going to make it this morning, so Mike will be in on the interrogation with you.”

Anna was disappointed. “Why not? You’re here now.”

“Yeah, but I have to leave soon — and you and I both know it’s going to be a long session with Smiley. I tell you one thing I’ve learned from this...”

“Just one?”

“Never let an effing rookie lawyer handle a big case. This guy James Gregson is a royal pain in the arse. You’d think he was representing Prince Charles, the way he’s carrying on.”

“Scared he’s going to make a mistake, I reckon,” Anna said thoughtfully. “For us, it might prove to be an advantage.”

“You all right to go in with Mike?”

“Of course I am, and don’t run him down. On the contrary, he needs all the confidence boosters you can give him. He’s had the carpet tugged a few times.”

“Maybe it doesn’t help, just how much you’ve come up with the leads that have assisted us in bringing in John Smiley.”

“It was teamwork, sir,” Anna said. Langton had reprimanded her enough times for not being a team player.

“I’ll talk to him before I leave,” Langton promised.

“Can I ask why you’re not staying?”

Langton nodded and referred to another case he had been overseeing.

“You read about the little girl nicknamed the Pixie? It started because her parents gave us a photograph of her dressed for a party; she was wearing a little pixie hat and green tights.”

“I know the case. She was found inside one of those huge waste bins, wasn’t she?”

“Yep, poor little lass. She’d been missing for four weeks.”

“In many ways I am grateful that I’m on this John Smiley case and not on a child murder. They’re always hard not to get emotionally involved in.”

“Yeah, and in this one, emotions are running to boiling point. We arrested the stepfather last night.”

“What?”

“Yeah. He cried a lot of crocodile tears on all the TV interviews, but I just had this gut feeling about him, and last night we nailed him. It was old Pete Jenkins who gave us the lead with just one fingerprint.”

“From the Dumpster?”

“Nope, off of little Pixie’s skin. He used the superglue technique and lifted it from her backbone. The man had denied being with her for the afternoon she went missing, and he’d been protected by the mother. So like I said, emotions are boiling over, but I want to lead the interrogation. Personally, I’d like to strangle him with my bare hands, but instead, I’ll make damned sure I break him.”

Anna knew that dealing with Langton at full throttle wouldn’t be easy; she’d seen him in action too many times.

“Did you also have a gut feeling about John Smiley?”

He nodded and then looked at her. “What about you?”

“To be honest, no, I didn’t, but there were just too many coincidences — and I know you don’t believe in them. That’s what kept me going.”

“You did good detective work, Travis. It won’t go unnoticed.”

“Thank you.”

“But you are going to have to break him — and I’d say over the Margaret Potts murder. We’ve not got enough on any of the Polish girls, apart from the blue blanket. Did you get his pal, the ex-Para, what’s his name?”

“Michael Dillane.”

“Right — did he get shown the blanket?”

She hesitated and shook her head. “No.”

“That should have been a priority.”

“I know, but—”

“Get it done. Once you’ve got Smiley admitting Margaret Potts’s murder, then you can backtrack to the other girls. It’s not going to be easy, even with the accumulated evidence. I would say if he’s not opening up, hit him with as much about his wife as possible — even implicate her somehow. She’s a real dog, but I think he has this fear of her disrespecting him, for some godly reason.”

“Right, but we do have strong evidence linking him to Dorota, the dog hairs and—”

“Not enough to make the charges stick. You will have to put the pressure on him to confess.”

She nodded and then was taken aback when he took hold of her left hand. “Still not wearing your engagement ring, I see.”

“I’ve not had time to pick it up.” Uncomfortable with the personal direction of the conversation, she gave Langton a brief rundown about Cameron Welsh’s latest antics, but he didn’t pay that much attention.

He looked at his watch. “I gotta go. As for Welsh, I’d put the bastard in a straitjacket and cart him off to Broadmoor and let them deal with him.”

“I think Ken is hoping they’ll move him this week.”

Langton stood up and picked up his raincoat, saying, “I’ll call later and see how you and Mike are doing.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He came closer and touched her arm lightly. “Don’t let Smiley slither off the hook,” he warned.

“I don’t intend to,” she said, following him into the incident room as he headed for Mike, who had just arrived. She guessed he was perhaps taking her advice about giving Mike a boost, and she knew she was right when she saw Mike smile and thank him. Going over to Barolli, she asked him to get hold of Dillane and take him over to forensics to check the blanket for them and to confirm the matching dog hairs. She knew that Langton had been right: the evidence wasn’t strong enough.

Even though he had spent the night in a cell, John Smiley looked fresh. He was wearing a gray suit with a white shirt and dark tie. His hair was combed away from his forehead, showing his receding hairline. He was in some ways a good-looking man, but his face was heavily lined, and he was obviously nervous. As Mike reminded Smiley that he was still under caution, he gave small soft coughs, constantly clearing his throat and, with his right hand, straightening his tie. Mike motioned to the video cameras, explaining that the interview would be not only taped but filmed.

The first file was placed on the table by Anna; it was the investigation into Margaret Potts’s murder. She took out the photographs and placed them in front of Smiley.

“You have denied knowing this victim Margaret Potts. Do you have anything to say?” Mike demanded.

“No comment.”

Anna’s mouth tightened. If Smiley was to go down the “no comment” route with all four victims, it would be a very one-sided interview.

Mike continued. “We now have proof that you did in fact know Margaret Potts, and we have a witness who met you when you went to her flat to hang a set of blinds. This witness has also stated that she paid you in cash, and the same witness was able to pick you out of a video identification parade. Do you still insist that you did not know the victim?”

“No comment.”

“We also have three sets of prints from the same flat that have been matched with yours, Mr. Smiley, so to continue to deny that you were never at Miss Emerald Turk’s flat is a lie.”

“No comment.”

Mike plowed on. “We also know that you lied about not working in a private capacity using blinds from your company Swell Blinds, and that this money paid to you was never declared for any tax payments. We have been given a statement by a Mr. Michael Dillane that you also fitted blinds for him for a cash payment, together with one from a Mrs. Wendy Dunn, who recalls that you did work for her. You were seen on numerous occasions to remove the unwanted blinds from the Swell Blinds factory, leading us to believe that you did earn a considerable amount from these private negotiations.”

“No comment.”

“Mr. Dillane also provided us with details of you paying him seven hundred pounds for his van, which he had previously used when working as a security guard and dog handler. You failed to reregister this vehicle with a change of ownership and new address so you could use it to commit your crimes. These will be added charges brought against you, as we have details of the garage where this van was parked; it was rented out to you and nobody else. Do you admit to that?”

“No comment.”

Mike sighed and continued. “We have removed from this same garage in Manchester a security officer’s uniform, a cap, and a jacket.”

Anna passed over the photographs of the items, and Smiley merely glanced at them. He also paid scant attention when Mike showed him the cash and detailed the amount found.

“Do you have anything to say about these items?”

“No, I don’t.”

“We have also found numerous dog hairs inside this van that are being tested to see if they match dog hairs taken from a blue blanket that at some time was used for Mr. Dillane’s guard dog to lie on. We will come to the importance of this later.” Smiley simply nodded. His lawyer was scribbling notes as Mike talked. Anna had not said one word.

“We are aware that the victim, Miss Margaret Potts, came into a considerable amount of money over a period of two years. We believe that you paid her this money because she was blackmailing you. Do you have any comment to make about that?”

“No, I don’t.”

“We have had access to your bank accounts and find no withdrawals of money to pay Mr. Dillane for his van. Where did this money come from?”

“No comment.”

Mike was becoming frustrated. Smiley’s reactions were getting to him. They needed to elicit a proper response from him, so Anna tapped Mike’s knee beneath the table. He sat back, giving her the cue to begin talking. She kept her voice low and persuasive.

“Maggie Potts was a common slut, but you found her attractive, didn’t you? What did she do, John? Did she come on to you in Emerald Turk’s flat and you just couldn’t resist her? She may have been a tough nut, but she was still more attractive than your wife, wasn’t she? Sonja’s overweight, her looks have gone, and she was barely giving you enough pocket money. Why was that? Because she knew you couldn’t keep your dick in your trousers?”

Smiley’s lips tightened.

“Margaret was still sexy compared to Sonja, and she knew how to handle a man and give him pleasure. She went down on you, didn’t she? I bet Sonja hasn’t given you any pleasure for a long time. Like a beached whale, isn’t she?”

“You got no right to slag off my wife,” Smiley said with gritted teeth.

“But if she was to find out that you’d been screwing a whore and paying for it, she’d have done what, John? Cut off your pocket money — or cut off your balls? We know she didn’t have any idea how much cash you were earning on the side in your dodgy deals. You never thought she’d find out, but then Margaret got greedy, didn’t she?”

Smiley was beginning to fidget, constantly straightening his tie with the flat of his hand.

“She kept on hitting you for more cash, and you kept on letting her give you blow jobs when you met up with her at the service stations. You hated yourself, didn’t you, but you couldn’t keep your hands off her — isn’t that right?”

“No.”

“No what? No you couldn’t keep your hands off her, or no you didn’t screw her round the back of the service stations? And all the while she was asking for extra payments, threatening to tell your wife about the love affair. Was that what it was, John? You’d fallen for a hardened tart that Sonja would go apeshit about; she’d maybe smell her on you when you got home.”

“No.”

Anna knew that so far, the biggest response was when she had been rude about Sonja, just as Langton had suggested, so she went for that again.

“You get home after a long drive, and there is this overweight, ugly woman demanding to know where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. You must have been itching to tell her to her big fat face.”

“You shut up talking about my wife.”

“But you carry around a picture of her, young and pretty. You didn’t know back then she’d been fucked by half the blokes in your regiment.”

“That is a disgusting lie.” He tried to stand.

“Sit down, Mr. Smiley,” Mike said sharply.

“It is not a lie. Sonja put it about, and then she got her claws into you, and you thought you had a catch — but she was no better than Margaret Potts, was she?”

“Sonja is my wife and the mother of my children.”

“So that was why she ate herself into the state she’s in. She’s obese, Mr. Smiley, she pants for breath just going up the stairs. Why don’t you carry that picture in your wallet instead of the fantasy that she’s still that girl you married? You must hate her.”

“No, I don’t.”

“How do you think she’s going to feel about all this? We will have to question her, and we will obviously bring up your relationship with Margaret Potts.”

“Sonja has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Any of this? You are accused of murder, Mr. Smiley! Of course we will have to question her — she could be involved. She must have known about your predilection for young girls, young Polish girls, maybe girls that reminded you of what Sonja used to look like. I doubt if she will understand about Margaret, but she will have to be told, and as you decline to assist us in any way, then we will have to try and get answers from her.”

“No. I don’t want Sonja brought into this. I’ve agreed to answer your questions and—”

He was interrupted by Mike leaning forward and saying, “You have not answered a single question, Mr. Smiley, to the contrary, and if this continues, you leave us no option but to bring in your wife.”

“I don’t want her brought here.”

“Really? Well, if you are not prepared to cooperate—”

“She is not to be involved.”

“I don’t think you will have any say in the matter.”

At this point Gregson leaned toward Smiley and held up his notebook in front of their faces. Anna could hear him telling Smiley that they were trying to goad him into answering their questions and, as they had discussed, he felt it wise that Smiley continue to remain calm and not allow himself to be antagonized.

Mike was clearly fighting to keep control of his own temper as he looked at Gregson and said scornfully, “You think that is what we’re doing? Mr. Gregson, your client may be charged with four murders. If you think I am being antagonistic toward Mr. Smiley, then I suggest you advise him to cooperate and to drop the ‘no comment’ routine.”

“I am here to advise my client, and being abusive toward his wife to get him to answer questions that implicate him is unacceptable,” began Gregson.

“Implicate?” Anna queried. “Mr. Gregson, we have a mass of evidence implicating your client, starting with the murder of Margaret Potts. Your client has lied to us, and we are able to prove that.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Detective Travis, I do not believe that you do have the evidence. You have no proof that my client was being blackmailed by Margaret Potts, and therefore you have no motive for murder.”

Anna stood up. Mike remained sitting as she reached over to gather up the photographs, snatching at them in a show of temper. “I will now arrange to have Mrs. Smiley brought here for questioning. Surely you don’t think for a second that she isn’t suspicious as to why her husband has been arrested?” She glared at John Smiley. “Whatever excuse you’ve made up is going to sound ridiculous when she must have seen the evidence removed from your house. The officers are still there, Mr. Smiley, still checking for further evidence. Don’t you think she’s going to realize that your arrest is not for some petty crime? Unless, of course, your wife was fully aware of your sexual antics with a prostitute and could be charged with attempting to pervert the course of justice.”

“I told you — my wife has nothing to do with any of this. I swear on my children’s lives, she knows nothing.”

“What doesn’t she know about, John?”

Smiley was sweating. Instead of patting his tie, he began to loosen it.

“Why don’t you get it off your chest?” Anna said persuasively. “At least it will avoid our having to arrest your wife. And then you have your children to consider if she’s brought in for questioning.”

Gregson pointed at Anna. “This is really becoming intolerable, DI Travis. Mr. Smiley has stated over and over that his wife has no connection with any—” He stopped as if he knew he was trapping himself.

“That his wife has no connection with what?” Anna demanded.

Gregson got his act back together. “She knows nothing about the murder allegations leveled against my client.”

Anna stacked the photographs of Margaret Potts and tapped them on the tabletop like a pack of cards. “But I have made it very obvious that due to your client refusing to answer any questions, it leaves us with no alternative but to question Sonja Smiley in connection with those murders.”

“I do not believe you have any incriminating evidence against my client for...” Gregson checked his notebook and listed the four victims’ names.

Anna wished she had Langton backing her up. She felt Mike was taking a backseat.

“No evidence? No evidence? I beg to differ with you, Mr. Gregson, but I am not prepared to sit here any longer and play this game with you.”

John Smiley pushed back his chair. It made a harsh noise, startling them into silence. “I want to get some things cleared up,” he said.

There was a lengthy pause.

“I admit I have lied to you.” John Smiley stared at the tabletop; he was now sweating profusely. “I did meet Margaret Potts, and I did place a blind in Miss Turk’s box room. It was a long time ago, and I really couldn’t remember her. I didn’t even know her name, which is the reason why I have not admitted to knowing or recognizing her.”

“Take us through what happened when you first met Margaret,” Anna said.

“Miss Turk opened the door to me. I didn’t even know there was anyone else there. She seemed anxious to leave, so I said I’d let myself out as soon as I’d finished rehanging the kitchen blinds. She mentioned there’d been a problem with the ones in the little bedroom, too. I knew those flats, as we had a contract with the housing association in them days, and I happened to have a set the right size in the back of the van. She bunged me forty quid, waited for me to nip down and bring up the blinds, then she cleared off and left me to it. Didn’t seem to mind leaving me on me own. I didn’t realize there was anyone else there at that time.” Smiley rubbed his nose, then continued. “I was just finishing off the kitchen blinds when she came out of the smallest bedroom.”

“Margaret Potts?”

“Yes. I didn’t know anyone else was there, right, and she gave me quite a fright. She asked if I wanted a cup of tea, and I said I wouldn’t mind one when I’d put up the other blinds. She sat watching me while I did it. After a quick cup of tea in the kitchen, I left. I was eager to get home.”

“What was she wearing?”

“She was in a nightdress.”

“What color was it?”

“Black, I think.”

“Low-cut, strappy thing, was it?”

“Yeah, I think it was.”

“See-through?”

“Yeah, nylon thing.”

“She sat up on one of the stools, did she?”

“Yeah.”

“So then what happened?”

“I just told you. I packed up my tools and I left.”

Anna tapped the table with her pencil. “That’s all that happened? This sexy woman wearing a transparent black nightdress sits watching you, and you expect me to believe that you just walked out? Didn’t you even strike up a conversation with her?”

“We exchanged a few words, but none I can remember.”

“What vehicle were you driving?”

“Pardon?”

“What vehicle were you using on this occasion?”

“Er... it’d be the one I used for the company, as I’d had some jobs to do earlier in the day.”

“What time of day was this?”

“Late afternoon.”

“So did you return straight back to Manchester?”

“Yes. It was my last bit of work.”

Anna tapped the table again. “Did you have sex with Margaret?”

“No, I did not.”

“It’s very hard for me, Mr. Smiley, to believe a word you say. I am expected to believe that you just finished your work, packed up your tools, had a conversation that you can’t really remember, but you recall exactly what she was wearing. You were eager to get home, but she must have been very tantalizing, provocative, and we all know what you have waiting for you at home.”

“I don’t like the way you say things about my wife.”

“And I don’t like you lying to me. What happened, John? You start getting a hard-on when she crossed and uncrossed her legs on that high stool — is that what happened? You couldn’t resist her, could you? And she was offering it up to you, giving you a big come-on. A sexy man like you couldn’t help but want it. What was she doing, easing her nightdress up her thighs, pulling the straps down? Just exchanging a few words... Come on, what do you take us for!”

“I knew she was a slag.”

“Oh, you knew that, did you, John?”

“Yes. The woman Emerald is one as well. It was obvious.”

“So knowing Margaret was a tart meant nothing — right, John?”

He nodded.

“What are you nodding for? To admit that you knew she was a tart, or that it was all right to screw her because it was on offer?”

“All right, all right — I let her do it.”

“Do what, John?”

“I went into the bedroom with her.”

“You had sex with her?”

“Yes. She gave me a condom.”

“So after you’d had sex with her, what happened?”

“I took a shower. I felt dirty after screwing her. I was ashamed about it, and when I came out, she’d got my wallet out of my trousers and was looking at the photographs of my kids and Sonja. Nosy cow! I snatched them off her.”

“Was she dressed by this time?”

“Yeah. A right slob, she was.”

“Go on, John.”

“She asked for twenty quid. She knew I’d got cash off the other whore, so I threw it at her. She was laughing, saying it’d have cost more, but she fancied me.” He shook his head. “Listen, I don’t like admittin’ this. I’d been faithful up to then. You know, I respect my marriage vows?” He sighed deeply.

“What happened next?”

“I told her I was going back to Manchester. Although we’d lost the contract with Strathmore, we still had to complete the term of the contract, right? She said she’d give me the twenty quid back if I dropped her off at the Gateway Services.”

“And did you?”

“Yes. I just dropped her there and carried on out of the service station. I didn’t stop, I just wanted to get rid of her.”

“Did you see her again?”

“No. That was the last time I saw her.”

“You said you wanted to get rid of her. You didn’t really mean that, though, did you?”

“Yes. I felt disgusted with myself for being so weak-willed. I never wanted to see her again.”

“But you spent a lot of time traveling up and down the motorway, so we know you did park at the same service station on at least two other occasions.”

“Yes, I did, and I was brought in here for questioning because of a problem with my vehicle’s registration. I didn’t give them my new home address, and thinking about it, I reckon I presumed that Mr. Rodgers would have taken care of that.”

“But you own the van, don’t you?”

“Yes, I paid for it in installments. It was a good deal, and I wanted to know I could hang on to it if I ever got made redundant.”

“And you never registered the ownership of Mr. Dillane’s van that you bought from him, either. Why was that?”

“Oh, I just never got around to it. I don’t get much free time.”

“But you had to know it was illegal. The van is still registered to Mr. Dillane. Did he not send you the documents?”

“No, he gave me everything when I bought it.”

“Yet you still failed to register it, and you used it on the road illegally. However, you did collect a new MOT certificate — from Croydon, I note, where Mr. Dillane still lives.”

Smiley shrugged and pulled at his tie again. “I only used it when I was doing private work. I suppose I just didn’t want my boss to find out.”

“Mr. Dillane was a close friend, wasn’t he, when you were at Aldershot?”

“Yes, he was one of my closest pals.”

“He asked to borrow money from you, is that correct?”

“Yes, he did, but I have never liked lending money to friends. They never pay you back, and I couldn’t afford it at the time, anyway.”

“But you had considerable cash. You paid him seven hundred pounds for his van, isn’t that correct?”

“Yes.”

“So Mr. Dillane knew you did have money?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“In his statement, he said that you told him you were having money troubles at that time, so you could only pay him in installments, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“But you not only had your wages, you also had the extra cash you made doing private work.”

“Yes. That’s what I wanted his van for — I just told you.”

“So why did you say you were having money troubles?”

“It was a lie. I didn’t want to shell out a lot of cash to him.”

“But he was your friend!”

“Not one I kept in touch with on a regular basis.”

“Because he didn’t like Sonja?”

Smiley remained silent.

“He knew about her, didn’t he? He told us that she was sexually permissive when she worked in one of the Alder-shot pubs.”

Smiley clenched his fists. “Whatever Micky Dillane told you is a lie. My wife didn’t care for him because she knew he liked me to go out and get drunk with him.”

Anna was tiring. They were going round in circles, and for her to come back and try to nudge Smiley into opening up by talking about Sonja wasn’t paying off. She glanced at Mike to indicate he should take over.

Gregson pulled at his shirt cuffs and suggested that they should not discuss Smiley’s wife in hearsay, as it bore no connection to the reason his client was being questioned.

Anna sat back, trying to think of the next tack, because she knew they had no evidence to prove that Smiley did continue to see Margaret Potts. She turned to the trolley to remove the file on Dorota Pelagia. She was just about to indicate to Mike Lewis that they should move on when she had a thought and checked her notes.

“When you went to the service station on these two other occasions we know of, did you see Margaret Potts?” Mike asked.

“No, I didn’t ever see her again.”

“But she contacted you, didn’t she?” Anna asked innocently.

Smiley blinked and then looked to Gregson.

“When you found her looking through your wallet, she had your children’s photograph and your wife’s, and she must also have found a business card, maybe even your home address. She got in touch with you, didn’t she?” Anna continued.

“No, that’s not true.”

Anna leaned across to Mike. “That’s something we should ask Sonja about — see if she received any calls from Margaret.”

“She never called. Maybe she saw me at the service station, but I never saw her.”