Crucified

Chapter 34

Maggie perched anxiously on the edge of the chair, watching all the footage, even pausing to go back and repeat some sequences, especially the interviews which had references to the mysterious man who had taken charge.

First there was the doorman. He had been shaken by the arrival of the police but had been warned by a young man to expect them and told to assist in ushering as many guests as possible from the premises.

Next came a young student who had been hired as a waitress. She recalled being told to lead guests out from the main reception area by one of the security guards and another man who she thought was working there. She said she became frightened when some guests left without claiming their coat tickets.

Maggie could not believe how many times Jack was visible, either shepherding guests down the staircase or standing at the top of another staircase shouting for people to get back. He seemed to be on virtually all the videos taken on mobile phones.

The most striking thing was that despite all the chaos, he always looked calm and in control, quietly assuring and encouraging the panicked guests. Together with the fact that they kept referring to him as ‘the hero’, it made her want to break down in tears. It shocked her that when he arrived home, he had not even mentioned the trauma he had been through, and it made her wretchedly sad and then angry. It reminded her of the feelings he had concealed during the period of his near breakdown.

Sometimes, it felt that she really didn’t know him, how much he held in, how much he kept hidden from her and she felt not just hurt, but frightened. Their jokes about James Bond suddenly didn’t seem funny anymore.

Maggie heard the landline ringing and ran down to the kitchen to pick it up.

‘Mags, it’s me.’

‘Jack, are you all right?’

‘Not too bad. They’re holding me here at Fulham, and I wanted to tell you that I might not get home tonight, so don’t worry.’

‘Don’t worry? Jack, I am worried sick. I’ve been watching all the footage...’

‘Listen, I can’t talk long, but I want you to check the pocket of my dinner jacket. There should be something in the side pocket. Don’t say anything about it, not now... just keep it safe. It might be very important.’

‘Jack, is this something to do with—’

He interrupted her before she could say Adam Border, his voice firm, almost angry. ‘Don’t say any names now, Mags. I know who you’re referring to. Just wait until I call again, and in the meantime do the one thing for me.’

‘Of course, but please don’t protect him. This is serious, isn’t it?’

‘Just know I love you, and I’ll be home soon.’ He ended the call.

Maggie stood holding the phone in her hand for a moment, before slowly replacing it. She wanted to scream or shout or do something because she felt so useless. She went into the bedroom, opened the wardrobe, took out his dinner jacket, felt in one pocket after another, and finally found, stuffed into the inside pocket, the folded gold-embossed invitation. She took it into his office and was about to put it in one of the drawers, when she hesitated and decided to find a better hiding place.

A corner of the office, much to Jack’s annoyance, had a stack of old toys and other items they intended on taking to the dump, unless she could sell them on eBay. Maggie picked up a broken plastic duck with a small trolley attached, which only had two wheels. The duck’s plastic head had a hole in it, so she rolled the invitation up and stuck it down inside. She placed the duck among other broken toys then went back to the desk to shut the drawer. One of Jack’s large brown envelopes, which he used to stash notes and memos to himself, was open. She eased it out of the drawer, tipping out everything onto the desk. Stapled together were several articles cut out of magazines like Tatler, Vogue and Elle, all featuring Detmar Steinburg at glamorous society events. There was also a Post-it note in Jack’s handwriting with the words ‘dealer’ and ‘forgeries’ on it.

Penny peeped into the room and Maggie physically jumped. ‘There’s more news on — was that a call from Jack?’

‘Yes, he’s being held at Fulham police station. He said he won’t be home tonight but will call again when he can.’

‘You mean he’s been arrested?’

‘Just being questioned, Penny, nothing to worry about. Jack’s not worried.’

‘Should I call Marius and ask him to come over?’

‘No, you carry on watching the TV.’

‘They never said his name on all the news and interviews.’

‘Please, Penny, just record anything else you see.’

‘Yes, dear.’ Penny left. As Maggie looked through the clippings, she heard her mobile. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she had left it. She was about to go and search for it, but the next moment the landline on Jack’s desk rang. She snatched it up, hoping it would be Jack. It was Laura.

‘Maggie? I just tried you on your mobile. I’m really getting worried because of all the news. I’ve tried to find out what’s going on, and all I’ve found out is that Jack has been taken to Fulham station.’

‘That’s all I know too, Laura. He rang and said he was being held there probably overnight... can you find out what it’s about?’

‘It obviously has to do with what happened at the gallery. I couldn’t believe Jack was there. You know he was previously questioned here at our station about getting access to the ICU where they were holding the victim? They accused him then of withholding evidence, but it was dismissed, so I reckon it must be connected. Listen, Maggie, maybe check out anything Jack might have been investigating on the QT. You know what he’s like when he gets something that needles him. You need to understand, Maggie, this is really very serious, you have to get rid of anything incriminating, right now. Especially any reference to Adam Border, all right?’

‘OK,’ Maggie said. ‘Thank you. And please call again if you find out anything else.’ She put the phone down, then ran down into the hall and grabbed her coat, car keys and handbag.

Maggie drove to the nearest tube station and got out by the row of public telephones, which were all the new models requiring a credit card. She returned to the car and drove around the local areas until she found one that would take coins. She took out her purse and selected some coins, her hand shaking because she wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing or not. She had to use directory enquiries to get the numbers, writing them down on the back of her hand with a biro. She then placed the first call to the Daily Mail asking to be put through to the crime desk. Maggie made three further calls, always keeping the conversation brief.

‘I recognised the man being called “the hero”. He’s Detective Sergeant Jack Warr of the Metropolitan Police.’

She did not give her name, hanging up each time as they asked for more details. Returning home, she went to Jack’s office and searched the desk drawers for any more notes relating to Detmar Steinburg, then stuffed everything into a bin bag. Then she went down to the kitchen and opened the drawer in the big old dresser she used for all the family paperwork like mortgage documents, school reports and various receipts. She gathered them all up and returned to his office, stuffing them in the envelope Jack had used for his research into Steinburg and putting it into a drawer.

Trying to think of a good place to hide the bin bag, Maggie sat with it on her knee. She heard Penny’s footsteps from the floor above and knew she should go and sit with her for a bit, even watch the late-night news. She put the bin bag on the floor and went into the corridor as Penny was coming down with Charlie’s plastic waste bucket full of soiled nappies ready to be transferred to eco-friendly plastic bags that would go into the large collection bin provided by the council.

‘Everything all right, Penny?’

‘Yes, dear, Charlie was a bit ratty with his teething, so I’ve been sitting with him. I didn’t want him to wake Hannah.’

‘Let me take that out for you... we have a spare, don’t we?’

‘Yes, we’ve got two; one I’ve never used.’

Maggie took the plastic bucket from her and said she would bring her a hot chocolate. If Charlie was sleeping, they could watch TV together.

‘I’d like that, dear. I’ve been worried sick.’

Maggie watched her return to the nursery and then went to her bedroom. She picked up the black bin bag and went down to the kitchen. She put most of the poo-filled nappies into the eco bags, tying them tightly. Then she went outside to the bins and put them in. Next, she pushed the black bin liner down into the bucket, placing two stinking nappies on top. With the secure plastic lid back on, she took it back upstairs and put it into the bathroom under the washbasin. Finally, she opened Jack’s laptop and started trying out different passwords.

Jack had been held in the cell for three hours and had only just been brought a tray of sandwiches and coffee. He knew exactly how long anyone could be kept in custody without charge, but it was hard to remain patient. If they were going to accuse him of withholding evidence again, he suspected Morrison was carefully reviewing the notes of his previous interview. Admittedly, the fact that he had been left in the cell for so long had allowed him to think through how he was going to defend himself, but he was now beginning to lose his temper.

But it would be a while longer before he was interviewed. Morrison was now under renewed pressure after an anonymous caller identified the gallery ‘hero’ as Detective Sergeant Jack Warr. This revelation reached Morrison just as he was about to bring Jack up from the cells. The press was keen to find out if Detective Warr was an undercover officer working at the gallery or if his presence was just a coincidence. Morrison was under pressure to give them an answer and his now irate superintendent was not happy.

Broadbent walked straight into Morrison’s office without knocking and kicked the door closed behind him. ‘You have ten minutes to explain this latest development. DS Warr has now been named the hero at the art gallery, and you have him under arrest. How do you think that makes us look?’

Morrison struggled to find an answer. At that moment there was a tap on the door and Collingwood opened it. Morrison gestured for him to come in.

Broadbent continued. ‘Let me get this straight — you’re suggesting that Jack Warr knew who your victim was before you’d managed to identify him, and he was at the gallery because he also knew who had killed him?’

Morrison nodded. ‘Exactly. He was withholding vital evidence.’

‘For what reason?’

‘Neilson promised to pay Norman O’Reilly fifty thousand to clean up the murder site. Maybe Warr was in on the action somehow too.’

Broadbent pursed his lips. ‘I can’t see how that makes any sense, given Warr’s subsequent actions, but I’ll admit he seems to have been one step ahead of you in terms of the investigation.’

‘Shall I get him brought up from the cells, Sir?’

Broadbent thought for moment. ‘We must tread carefully and make sure we have solid evidence before accusing a senior officer.’

‘Yes, I think I have—’ Morrison began.

Broadbent cut him off. ‘It’s all just circumstantial! He’s a fucking hero right now, and now his identity is public, we cannot afford put a foot wrong. He’s had a distinguished career to date... only last year, he solved a major serial murder case.’

Collingwood was waiting nervously for Morrison to bring up the anonymous phone call. He was about to interject when Broadbent ordered Morrison to get a search warrant for Jack Warr’s home. ‘And take a look at his desk here too.’

‘Excuse me, Sir, but it’s already after ten, and I know DS Warr has a new baby, and his wife is a doctor,’ Collingwood said.

Broadbent gave a dismissive glare. ‘No, we don’t interview him until you’ve completed the search... if not tonight, then first thing in the morning. Scotland Yard has a team working with Steinburg’s lawyers and accountants. They have agreed to produce all the relevant documents, including his will. Maybe that will tell us more about what the hell’s been going on.’

Jack became even angrier when another hour passed and he was still not told what was happening. Collingwood had twice tried to get past the custody officer in the corridor to the cells, but it was getting dangerous to be seen talking to him — and then he was called away to try and get the search warrant signed by the on-call magistrate. It was eleven thirty, and Broadbent decided the search would go ahead at six o’clock the following morning.

Morrison was aware Jack had now been held in custody for six hours without charge, and another night would make it over sixteen hours. ‘That’s of no concern. We can get an extension from sixteen hours to twenty-four if we need to. That should give us plenty of time to get the evidence we need.’

Jack sat on the cot bed, trying to figure out their intentions. He lay back, closed his eyes, and began thinking through what Morrison had discovered. He knew he had got away by the skin of his teeth when they had tried to nail him for withholding evidence after his visit to the ICU. But he had to at least consider the possibility that Collingwood had grassed him up about the anonymous phone call. For the first time, he asked himself why he had kept his suspicions — and, ultimately, critical evidence — to himself. He had to face the truth. Maggie had been right: it was because he had been protecting Adam Border, instead of protecting his career and his family.