Crucified

Chapter 35

Kurt Neilson had been under constant surveillance since being placed on suicide watch. Despite taking his medication, strict precautions were still in place. His requests for a visit from his mother were denied, and he was only allowed to speak with his lawyer via telephone in a protected booth, closely monitored by officers and medical staff. He barely spoke at first but soon became animated as, unprompted, he started describing his elaborate plans to murder his lover.

Although she had not visited Neilson in prison, Ester Langton had organised his legal team, who had initially reported that they were confident Neilson could claim diminished responsibility at trial, arguing that he had been mentally unbalanced at the time of the murder. The only problem with this strategy was Neilson’s insistence on his guilt and tendency to describe the more horrific details of the murder with evident relish.

The following morning at six o’clock, Morrison, Collingwood, and two officers rang the doorbell and banged loudly on Jack’s front door. Penny, wearing her dressing gown, opened the door looking terrified. They showed her the search warrant, but she seemed confused and distressed as they prepared to search the property. Tearfully, Penny went up to the bedroom and told Maggie that there were officers downstairs and that they had a warrant to search the house.

‘Go and get Hannah dressed and Charlie ready for his feed. I’ll get the pram out for you to walk them to school,’ Maggie told her.

‘But it’s only six o’clock!’ Penny wailed.

‘Yes, I know, but after you’ve got their breakfast, you need to go... go to the play area in the park. I don’t want Hannah upset or frightened. Go and tell them they can do whatever they need to and that I’m taking a shower.’

Penny did what she was told, hurrying to the nursery when she saw the officers entering the kitchen. By now, Hannah was shouting, and Charlie was screaming.

Wearing a dressing gown and with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, Maggie headed down the stairs. Collingwood stood at the bottom, looking apologetic.

‘Does your husband have a home office?’ he asked. Pulling her dressing gown even tighter around her, Maggie pointed to the office.

Maggie opened the hall closet and pulled out Charlie’s pram, tucking the pillowed lining and blanket in ready for him to be put inside. She then went into the kitchen, where they were searching through the drawers and even the cutlery box. Morrison introduced himself, looking ill at ease.

‘Will my mother-in-law be allowed to make the children breakfast? She always walks them to school. I’m shocked you’re doing this to be frank. Has something happened to Jack? I thought he was helping you with your enquiries.’

‘He’s at the station and I’m sure he’ll call you soon to explain in more detail,’ Morrison said, eager to get away from her. She followed him up the stairs as Collingwood entered Jack’s office.

‘Are you allowed to do this? Jack’s a police officer and that is his private home office.’

Morrison ignored her. But Collingwood showed her a copy of their search warrant. ‘We’re allowed to search the entire house,’ he told her, without being able to meet her eye. He turned away and started with the drawers of Jack’s desk.

Penny had been allowed to make breakfast, then she put Charlie into his pram and left the house with Hannah. As the search continued, Maggie dressed then brewed some coffee in the kitchen. She rang the hospital and told them she wouldn’t be in that morning due to a family matter but hoped to be in later that afternoon.

Heading up the stairs, she could see Jack’s office door was partly open. Morrison and Collingwood were searching his desk, all the drawers open. Morrison turned to her. ‘Does Jack have a laptop?’

She hesitated. ‘He used to have one; it may be at the station.’ She continued on to her bedroom, and Collingwood followed her sheepishly. As he walked in, she turned, holding the plastic nappy container.

‘I was just taking this out to the bins.’ Maggie went closer, then opened the lid of the container. ‘If you want to search it, go ahead.’ He shifted his weight as she withdrew the lid and held it out. He peered inside, trying not to gag, then shook his head. Looking over to the bed, he saw Maggie’s laptop.

‘I can’t allow you to take that. It is my personal laptop containing information from some of my patients. It does not belong to Jack, and I am sure your search warrant only allows you to remove my husband’s belongings.’

‘I’m sorry, but we need to take it, and the computer from his office.’

Maggie sighed heavily, heading to the door as Collingwood began to search through Jack’s clothes in the wardrobe, checking pockets and taking out the evening suit jacket. She walked out, and passing the office door, she saw Morrison sifting through the stack of documents she had left in the drawer. He didn’t even turn to look at her as she carried the plastic container down to the kitchen. They had left most of the drawers and the cupboards open, stacked the clean tea-towels and left them on the floor. She placed the bin by the big ceramic flowerpots, astonished that they even appeared to have dug around in them, leaving soil all over the floor.

The two officers who had searched the top-floor nursery, Penny’s room, and the bathrooms, were now in the loft. Maggie found a brush and began clearing the soil, leaving the back door open.

Collingwood returned to Jack’s office, holding Maggie’s laptop.

Morrison nodded. ‘Don’t forget to get the password, so we don’t waste any more time.’

‘Yes, Sir. You found anything?’

‘He’s mortgaged up to the hilt with fuck all in his bank accounts. She’s earning good money, but as soon as it comes in it looks like it goes straight out. Right, let’s get this lot back to the station.’ The evidence boxes containing all the items they had removed were being carried down the stairs.

‘I’m sorry Doctor Warr, but we need to take this into the station as it could also have been used by your husband.’

She threw up her hands and strode past him. ‘The house is a mess. You could at least clean up before you go.’ Maggie remained in the bedroom until she heard the front door slam and the patrol cars moving off. She went into Jack’s office, where papers were strewn over the desk and floor. It looked as if they had kicked over the toys she had intended to get rid of. The little duck was on its side, and among other overturned items was the old plastic cart. Suddenly she felt the tears welling up and was about to burst into sobs when she heard Penny shouting. She hurried to the window. Penny was outside on the path with Charlie in his pram, furiously telling two journalists they were on private property and to get out or she would call the police.

When Maggie got downstairs, Penny was inside, slamming the front door shut behind her. She was fuming. ‘One was hiding in the bushes! If they’re still there, I’ll go upstairs and throw a bucket of water over them. One had a camera, trying to take our photographs.’

Maggie told her to take Charlie upstairs and not to bother throwing water over anybody as she folded the pram. Next, she checked the nappy bin and removed the bin liner before taking the bucket to the bins.

A short while later, Penny came down. Charlie had been fed and was much calmer, so she carried him to his swing seat and hooked his safety harness around him. Charlie was instantly a happy little soul bouncing up and down.

Maggie walked in, and Penny immediately saw that she’d been crying. She held out her arms. ‘Come here, love, give me a hug... you look as if you need one.’

Maggie sat on Penny’s knee, wrapping her arms around her and resting her face on her neck as she cried. Penny gently rocked her just as she did her granddaughter, telling her softly that everything was going to be all right.

‘Jack’s been in trouble before, but he always comes out on top. He’ll be home soon, and everything will be sorted out. You just have to calm yourself and be here for him when he needs you.’

Maggie sniffed. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mum.’ Maggie had never referred to Penny as ‘Mum’ before, and it made Penny cry. Then the pair of them started to laugh. It was a childlike moment between the two women before Penny cupped Maggie’s face in her hands.

‘We’re here for him. I know this is serious, but we never show that we are scared for our boy.’

Jack had finally been allowed to take a shower. He was still in the clothes he had been wearing when they brought him in, but he felt a little better. He was returned to his cell and this time, a young, uniformed officer was assigned to take him back. When Jack asked how long it was going to be before someone told him what was going on, he got an embarrassed shrug.

‘Morrison’s back from the search, so...’

‘Search? Are you telling me they’ve been searching my home?’

‘All I know is there’s a lot of people up in the incident room, some of them from Scotland Yard.’

Morrison stood up behind his desk as Broadbent came in with a thick file, followed by Collingwood carrying another file.

‘So, what did you find at his house?’ Broadbent demanded. ‘Anything connecting him to Detmar Steinburg?’

Morrison looked uncomfortable. ‘We removed his computer and a laptop from the address, both of which are being examined by the digital technology blokes.’

‘That’s it? A laptop... and is it Jack Warr’s?’

‘It’s his wife’s.’

‘She gave you permission to take it?’

‘Warr could also be using it. Plus, his home PC had data on it that he must have illegally downloaded from the HOLMES major incident database.’

‘Show me a fucking officer who hasn’t done that, so they can complete their work at home,’ snapped Broadbent. He sat down in front of Morrison.

‘We have some new information, first up the contents of Steinburg’s will. His main beneficiary is Ester Langton: she gains all his personal property, including his art collection. However, there is a proviso attached: Miss Langton will only receive the bequests if she takes care of Kurt Neilson financially and pays all his medical bills.’

Broadbent shook his head and gave a grunt of a laugh. ‘Given his mental health issues, that might put quite a dent in her finances. And she definitely won’t be inheriting any cash from Steinburg. In fact, all she may be inheriting is crippling debt. It looks like his whole global business empire was a house of cards. He didn’t own any of the galleries or the penthouse — they were all on short-term leases and he died owing a staggering amount of money. I’ll be handing all the documents over to the fraud squad, let them sort it all out.’ He closed the file in front of him. ‘So, tell me, what else did the search of Jack Warr’s home turn up, apart from his wife’s laptop? Uncovered any connection to Steinburg?’

Morrison was sweating again. ‘I’m afraid not — not so far, anyway — but the search history on his wife’s laptop is interesting. Lots of articles about art fraud and books about it ordered from Amazon.

Broadbent was studying his nails. ‘That’s it?’

‘To date, yes it is, but we are still working on it.’

‘OK, might as well interview him now. But I’d say so far you have fuck all on him. I hope you’re going to prove me wrong.’

It was decided they would interview Jack in the largest interview room. The meeting would be recorded, and as he had not requested a lawyer, Broadbent and Collingwood would also be present. Accompanied by a young, uniformed officer, Collingwood headed down to the cells. He stood to one side as the cell was unlocked and waited as Jack casually walked out. As all three reached the stairs, Collingwood told the officer in front to go up ahead of them, giving Jack and Collingwood a few seconds alone.

‘We found nothing, Jack. And you’re in the clear on the anonymous call.’

In the interview room, Morrison was seated next to Broadbent, and Collingwood was left to stand behind them. The table was stacked with files.

‘Right,’ Morrison began, looking at Jack seated opposite him. ‘You’ve been arrested for obstructing a police investigation by withholding vital evidence pertaining to the arrest of Kurt Neilson and the murder of Detmar Steinburg.’ Jack sat back in the chair, his hands resting on his knees, appearing relaxed. Morrison coughed then continued. ‘Firstly, can you explain how you financed two large extension projects in your house?’

‘What? How do you know about that?’

‘We had a search warrant, and we were at your property this morning.’

‘A search warrant? What the hell is going on? You’ve been holding me here since yesterday afternoon. Why did you need a fucking search warrant? What could I possibly have that you hoped to find at my family home?’

‘I’m asking you again, Jack. How did you pay for the building work at your property?’

Jack banged the desk with the flat of his hand. ‘I had paternity leave; my mother’s partner is a retired builder and we did the work between us. My wife will be able to provide you with the breakdown of costs as she handled the finances.’

Broadbent tapped the table for Morrison to change the subject.

‘All right,’ Morrison said, clearly annoyed. ‘How can you explain your presence at Steinburg’s gallery on the night of Kurt Neilson’s arrest?’

‘Jesus Christ! Is this what it’s all about? I had an invitation.’

‘Explain how you acquired this invitation. We have a list of all the guests, and your name wasn’t on it.’

‘Well, on a Friday morning, a few weeks before the exhibition, I was at the framer’s shop in Portobello Road. I asked the man in the shop the price of a small gilt frame, and he told me it was ten pounds. I offered him five. He got irate and snatched the frame out of my hands, then told me to get out. I was standing by a cabinet and noticed there was a stack of invitations. Honestly, at the time, I didn’t know what they were, but I was so angry at the way he had spoken to me that I took an invite without thinking.’

‘Did you notice anything unusual inside the shop at this time?’

‘Yes, I did. There was an enormous cross that took up a huge amount of room. In fact, I recall making a joke about whether or not it had been bought from Jesus Christ Superstar.’

‘So, now you had this invitation for the show at Steinburg’s gallery, what did you do with it?’

‘Well, it was a coincidence because my wife and I had recently become very interested in art. It’s become a bit of a hobby we share outside our work. Around this time, I think there was also a lot of coverage about a painting being valued at sixty or more million, and we started to get interested in how paintings are valued and then the whole business of art fraud.’

‘Detective Warr, you recall our previous interview regarding your presence at the ICU where Detmar Steinburg was being treated?’

‘Of course. At that time, Detective Morrison, you had not identified him. You made an accusation that I was somehow attempting to gain information about him when I was there on another case at the request of DI Armani. My presence there was totally and utterly coincidental. I made no effort to see the victim but was encouraged by two of your officers to join them for a cup of coffee. I don’t know why you don’t accept my explanation. Have you got some personal grievance against me?’

‘I’m investigating a brutal murder,’ Morrison snapped. ‘And you still have a lot of explaining to do. Do you expect us to believe that your presence at the Steinburg gallery was another coincidence, because you just happened to pick up an invitation?’ Morrison said, trying to control his temper.

‘Yes, it was. Whether or not you believe me is up to you.’

Broadbent tapped the table with his pen. ‘Did the name Detmar Steinburg mean anything to you?’

‘No, I had no idea who he was. Though I must admit I was hoping I might meet him, after we did a bit of research and found out he was a famous collector and dealer.’ Jack leaned back, chuckling. ‘I nearly got stopped at the door, even though I was all togged up, but there was quite a crowd, and I managed to slip through.’

Broadbent leaned forward, tapping the table again with his pen. ‘You may be amused, Jack, but believe me, I am not. Finding yourself in close proximity to the victim and then to the killer smacks of more than mere coincidence.’

‘But along with DCI Morrison, when I was in the ICU, I didn’t know the victim was Detmar Steinburg. Likewise when I picked up the invitation. I had no idea there was a connection.’

Broadbent leaned back, looking annoyed and frustrated. Morrison took over. ‘OK, tell us what occurred at the gallery while you were innocently looking at the paintings?’

Jack thought for a moment. ‘I went into the first gallery and then moved up to the second floor. There was another display, but the exhibition of new work was taking place on the third floor, and there was a chain and padlock on the doors. This time, I didn’t walk down the stairs but used the lift. I intended to go back down to the ground floor, but by mistake I pressed the button to go up.’ He glanced from Broadbent to Morrison. Both were stony-faced. ‘So, I was now on the fourth floor. I heard someone screaming, then I saw a woman, I now know her name is Ester... something, she was being assaulted by this man, he was punching her and shouting. I ran into the office. He had hit her in the face and she was bleeding. He then turned and tried to punch me. I recognised him as the man from the framer’s shop. He was frothing at the mouth with rage, shouting that he was owed money. I punched him hard, and he ran down the stairs. I helped Ester into the bathroom and cleaned her up with some paper towels. She was very shaken, and I think I told her she should call the police.’

‘Did you see her make the call?’

‘No. She went back into her office.’

Broadbent was checking through Norman O’Reilly’s statement. It tallied with what Jack had just described. ‘When did you meet Kurt Neilson?’

‘I wouldn’t describe it as meeting him. I left the bathroom after looking after Ester... ah, I think her surname is Langton. I was going to use the lift to go down as I heard a loudspeaker announcement encouraging the guests to go to the third floor as the exhibition was about to open. I had no idea it was Kurt Neilson, but when I came out of the bathroom, I saw a big man wearing this long robe. He was screeching at Ester, something about it being his exhibition, and then he ran to the stairs and she came out in a terrible state. She asked me to get the security guards, said he was crazy and she was afraid of what he was going to do. She didn’t need to tell me twice. He seemed completely crazed. She went down in the lift to the first floor.’

‘Did she call the police then?’

‘She must have, because they arrived not long after, and by that time I had the guards with me in gallery three. We’d tried to stop people coming up. It was already obvious Neilson was out of control.’

Morrison began to lay out the photographs taken from the mobile phone video footage.

Jack leaned forward, looking from one to the other, then picking one up and staring at it, said, ‘My God, that is me. I’d manoeuvred to stand behind him, and the two guards were on either side of me, and then when he unveiled this huge canvas, all hell broke loose. I saw his right hand go into the pocket of his robe, and he took out a Glock pistol. I was convinced he was going to either fire into the crowd or shoot himself and...’ Jack turned the photograph around, showing himself flying through the air towards Kurt Neilson. ‘I’d like to know how long you have had this evidence... you brought me in and left me for how many hours in a cell when you had all this?’ Jack started to stand.

‘Sit down!’ Morrison barked.

‘When did you identify your victim as Detmar Steinburg?’ Jack asked him.

‘I’m asking the questions!’ Morrison snapped.

‘That night? You had me arrested and for what? Not staying at the scene? I want a damned good explanation for what you have subjected me to, not to mention my family.’

Morrison looked to Broadbent, who was tapping the last page in his file.

‘Why did you leave the gallery?’

‘As far as I can recall,’ Jack said slowly, ‘I believe DI Collingwood and a team of officers were at the gallery. He had the place surrounded and, after the experience of dealing with that crazed man, I just wanted to get out of there and be with my family’.

Morrison asked the next question staring hard at Jack, as if daring him to lie. ‘Did you make the anonymous call to Fulham police station control room that night, Detective Warr?’

‘No, I did not. Now I think it’s about time I called a lawyer as I have been subjected to what I would describe as harassment from a senior officer who clearly bears some personal grudge against me.’ Jack wondered for a beat if he had overstepped the mark. His biggest fear was that they had found the stash of money hidden in the child’s toy, but as it had not been mentioned, he assumed it was still safely hidden.

Broadbent stood up. ‘I would ask you to be patient, DS Warr, while I re-assess the whole situation.’ He turned to Collingwood, who had been standing behind them. ‘Is there anything you would like to add?’

‘I would just like to say, on DS Warr’s behalf, although at the time I was unaware of not only who he was or that he was in fact a police officer, his calmness and courage in a chaotic and potentially highly dangerous situation were admirable. By the time we put the cuffs on Neilson, the situation was well in hand.’

Broadbent nodded as if satisfied, then suddenly said, ‘But surely you must have recognised him because you had met him before in the ICU viewing room?’

Collingwood hesitated, licking his lips nervously, and for a moment Jack thought he was going to fold. ‘The thing is... as I said earlier, it was a chaotic scene, a lot of panicked people milling about, and he was dressed in an evening suit, so I just assumed he was one of the guests. I simply didn’t make the connection at the time with the officer I’d met in the ICU.’

Jack held his breath, but Broadbent seemed satisfied with Collingwood’s answer, even though Morrison was shaking his head in disbelief.

Broadbent stood. ‘Right. Better organise a patrol car to take DS Warr home.’

Collingwood held the door open and followed Jack out. As the door closed behind them, Broadbent turned to Morrison. ‘I don’t believe in coincidences any more than you do. But I’m afraid we just don’t have any hard evidence that Warr did anything wrong. And I don’t want him suing the department for harassment. The plain fact is that without his intervention at the gallery, there could have been numerous casualties. He risked his life and then just wanted to return home to his wife and children.’

‘I still don’t trust him,’ Morrison said plaintively.

Broadbent opened the door, saying quietly, ‘Neither do I. He’s a clever bugger... and now he’s a hero. But even clever buggers make mistakes. Just be patient.’