Chapter Nine
‘Good morning to you,’ a less-than-happy Detective Chief Inspector Ryan said on shaking Magee’s hand. He passed over a handful of Polaroid photos and said, ‘I gather we’re to give you all the cooperation and support you need for this case.’
‘Thank you. Yes,’ Magee replied. He knew what it was like to have an officer from another station barge into your own territory. It left a nasty taste in the mouth; it seemed to imply that you weren’t capable yourself. He leant against the station’s counter perusing the photographs.
DCI Ryan asked, ‘Do you want to visit the victim’s house?’
‘No, I don’t think so, thank you. The effigy on this dagger handle is identical. There’s no doubt, I’m afraid; my murderer has struck again.’
‘You think we’ve got a new Ripper on our hands?’
Magee frowned, uncomfortable with the implications of that phrase. ‘He’s no Ripper; he’s just a common murderer.’
‘But what of this Buddhist business? Doesn’t it put you in mind of a religious execution? Someone seeking glorification in the name of their god, perhaps?’
‘It’s possible, I suppose, but I don’t have enough facts to make an informed comment. And, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer the religious aspect to be left out of it for the moment. I don’t want the press latching on to it.’
DCI Ryan nodded. ‘As you wish. But you’ve certainly got one sick nutter on your hands.’
‘I don’t disagree. Nevertheless, whoever planned these two murders is a cold, rational, calculating, very clever son of a bitch.’
DCI Ryan shrugged in response.
‘Look, do you know much about the events surrounding the arrest of Paul Mansell last night?’
‘I certainly do. Mansell’s caused quite a stir during his visit. We picked him up at one forty-five last night.’
‘On what charge?’
‘Soliciting. He’d been making a nuisance of himself, cruising up and down a notorious stretch of road on the edge of Preston Park, harassing the working girls.’
‘Harassing them? In what way?’
‘He’d been asking lots of questions about a particular girl. Apparently, he wouldn’t let it go. He kept on and on at them. Eventually, one of them got fed up, I suppose, and phoned us to complain.’
‘Did he resist arrest?’
‘No, but I understand that he was surprised at our intervention. He claimed that we misinterpreted the situation. We decided that a night in the cells would be a good lesson, so we threw him into one of the not so pleasant rooms. Unfortunately, first thing this morning, some idiot on the early shift handed him his breakfast tray and asked if he’d seen anything unusual since there’d been a murder close to where he’d been picked up.’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘Nope. Sorry to say, I’m not. He’s only a youngster, bit too keen for my liking. Said he was just fishing, trying to get a lead for us. The dipstick fancies himself as a detective, I reckon. Anyway, he got his just desserts.’
‘How so?’
‘Hah! Well, Mansell throws a fit, flings his tray at the youngster then throws him against the wall. Poor bugger’s got bruised ribs now. Mansell tried to make a run for it. That's when the fun started. It was a bad decision on his part. We haven't had a runner for years, not from the cells anyway. It took six of us to contain the bastard. He's strong and unpredictable, that one, watch out for him.’
‘I will. Where is he now?’
‘Waiting for you in room seventeen, down the corridor, third on the left.’
‘Okay, thanks,’ Magee replied. ‘Come on, Melissa, let's go and see what Mansell has to say for himself. It should prove entertaining.’
Magee found Paul Mansell sitting patiently in the interview room waiting to hear his fate. Melissa set up the recording machine. This time, it was going to be an official interview, no cozy informal chat.
After introductions for the benefit of the tape, Magee said, ‘Perhaps you'd like to start at the beginning, Mansell. Your movements last night, please.’ He turned towards Melissa and offered a smug grin.
Paul Mansell sat slumped, looking dejected. ‘You won't believe my version of events.’
‘Why not? Surely it won’t be any less believable than last time? If you remember, I let you off then, maybe you’ll have the same luck this time.’
‘I'm not sure its worth bothering with. I reckon I’m being set up and the scary thing is that it's working. I might just as well wait and let you fail to prove me guilty. Anyway, if I'm inside here, the next time it happens I'll have a better alibi, won't I?’
‘Okay, okay, Mansell. Point taken. Come on, though, take a chance. I promise I won’t laugh. Honest.’
‘Very well, if you insist. I was investigating another case. A client by the name of Ringwood. I've got his address this time, but it was all conducted on the telephone with cash delivered in advance. Ringwood's fifteen year old daughter, Jane, went missing a few weeks ago. He said he’d searched the usual places around town, and had shown her photo to several dossers in the area. He said one girl he spoke to reckoned she'd seen her hanging around near Preston Park, selling herself. I tried there last week and one woman said she’d seen the kid. I said I'd give her fifty quid if she would bring Jane along sometime. I gave her twenty pounds in advance to show goodwill. The woman promised she'd be there last night, but she didn’t show. I reckon it was a set up. The whole thing must have been a scam right from the start, same as last time.’
‘Why didn't this Ringwood character go there himself? He could have saved your fees.’
Paul rubbed the end of his nose before responding. ‘Ringwood said he was worried he'd frighten his daughter away if she saw him. That made sense, especially if she didn’t want to see her father again. If he'd turned up unexpectedly, she might have done a runner.’
‘Okay, so you go along instead. What’s with this harassment you were charged with?’
‘I was being too persistent, I guess. Some of the women got annoyed, said I was spoiling their patch, putting their punters off. You know, those women can get mean at times, real mean.’
‘Had experience of them?’ Melissa put in.
‘Yes. But not in the way you're suggesting,’ Paul retorted. ‘Purely professional experience that's all. Anyway, I'm not really interested in women here.’
Melissa blinked. ‘Come again?’
‘I've being popping over to Bangkok ever since I was eighteen years old. I find most British women unappealing, so many are fat with white flabby skin. It makes me shudder just thinking about it. There's just no comparison to the delicate light brown skinned girls in Thailand. I just can't be bothered with women over here, it's too much hassle.’
Melissa returned a warm smile. ‘I can well understand that.’
Paul Mansell perked up. ‘Been there? To Thailand, that is?’
‘Five times,’ Melissa replied. ‘Only for short holidays though, you don't get much money or time off in this game. What about you?’
‘A dozen times at least. I usually stay for a month at a time. I've had a few girlfriends there, but it’s difficult to keep up any relationship because eventually I run out of money and have to return here.’
‘Haven’t you tried to get work out there?’
‘Yep, I’ve tried everything over the years. I’ve done fashion modeling, television adverts and teaching English, but the work doesn’t come easy. I’ve got a few links with some local businessmen, but they get involved in some pretty weird shit. I’ve been offered really lucrative deals, but they never come to anything. One day, I’ll crack it, then I’ll probably stay for good.’
‘I wouldn’t blame you,’ Melissa responded dreamily. ‘It’s my idea of paradise out there.’
Magee coughed. ‘Yes, well thank you, Melissa,’ he interjected, ‘but if you could get back to the subject of last night please, Mansell.’
‘Hmm! Where was I? Oh, yes. This tart that was supposed to bri
ng Jane along, well she didn't turn up . . .’
‘So you said.’
‘Oh? Well anyway, I was asking the other women whether they had ever seen Jane around. I had a photo of her; it's with the rest of my stuff outside somewhere I expect. Next thing I knew, two local boys-in-blue grab me and drag me here. They didn't listen to me; they just threw me in the cell for the night accusing me of trying to pick up an underage girl. Well, Chief Inspector, I can assure you that I am no child molester. I admit I like my Thai girls young and slim, but I doubt whether I've ever had a girl under eighteen.’
‘I should hope not!’ Magee was horrified at the thought. Melissa simply smirked.
‘First thing this morning,’ Paul continued unperturbed, ‘the breakfast tray arrived with some gossip I could have done without. That's when I realized that I must have been set up. To be in the area, just like the last occasion, and only a few days ago, was just too much of a coincidence. I don't know what happened, I just lost it. Freaked out. I hate police cells as it is, and the thought of going through all this again just made me flip. I'm sorry if I hurt anyone.’
‘What were you hoping to do? Escape the country? Flee to Bangkok?’
‘The thought had crossed my mind, I must admit. As I just said, I've been looking for an excuse to settle down in Thailand permanently.’
‘So you reckon the officers who picked you up misinterpreted the situation?’
‘Yes. Mind you, I suppose it was quite understandable under the circumstances.’
‘What's the address of this Ringwood character?’
Paul sighed before responding, ‘Is it worth giving to you?’
Magee responded with an icy glare.
‘Okay, okay! I'll write it down if you really want it.’
Magee let Mansell scrawl on a piece of paper, gave it to the officer standing by the door and asked him to check it out. After ten minutes, the constable returned and beckoned Magee out into the hallway. A minute later, Magee reentered the interview room and sat down with a broad smile on his face.
‘Well, I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that Mr Ringwood, although he does indeed live at this address, has two sons but no daughter.’
‘It doesn’t surprise me,’ Paul muttered. ‘Look, Chief Inspector, you're wasting your time. If a murder was committed last night, then your forensic team would be able to pick something up on me, yeah?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, Mansell,’ Magee muttered. ‘Forensics will be crawling all over you, very shortly.’
‘Good,’ Paul replied. ‘I’ll be out of here by lunchtime, then.’
‘Hah! Don’t count on it, Mansell. I’ve enough to keep you locked up for a while yet.’
‘Yeah? Look, tell me, how was the murder committed? A knife attack, same as with Todd Conners? Is that why you’re involved, the same murderer has struck twice?’
It was Magee’s turn to flinch at the questions. ‘You don’t expect me to answer that do you?’
‘Possibly not, but if I’m correct, then you must be looking for a guy with blood on his hands, literally, if not all over his clothes. Problem is, I’m clean, and you’ll find no trace of blood on me.’
‘You could have washed and changed nearby,’ Magee ventured. ‘A friend's house, for instance, and got back quickly.’
‘Oh for Christ’s sake! I'm telling you the truth, damn it!’ He pounded the table with his fist. ‘Now charge me or throw me out! I'm not cooperating anymore. I'm trying to clear my name and all I get from your side of the table is nothing but disbelief. I’m being set up and I don't know why. And your attitude really pisses me off.’
Magee sat in silence until Paul Mansell had finished his outburst. ‘Okay, let’s calm down shall we, there's no point in getting antagonistic. It won't help your case one bit.’ The two of them glared at each other for several moments.
‘Cigarette?’ Melissa asked as if attempting to break the impasse.
‘Please.’ Paul reached across the table.
‘Do you mind?’ Magee said, pointing to a no smoking sign on the wall. Melissa and Paul Mansell exchanged a glance of sufferance. It seemed to make the atmosphere worse.
‘What time did you get picked up?’ Melissa asked.
‘As I said, about one forty-five.’
‘How long had you been there?’ Melissa continued.
‘An hour or so. As I just said.’
‘Can you be more precise?’
‘Yes I can, now you mention it. I was asked to be there at one o'clock exactly. The woman I'd met during the previous visit said that she and Jane would turn up at that time, and that I wasn't to turn up earlier on account of other business they had. I arrived early. I didn't see anything wrong with wandering around, so I started asking questions at twelve thirty.’
‘Half an hour before scheduled time?’ She sat back with a smug grin on her face.
‘What’s your point, Melissa?’ Magee asked irritably.
Melissa scrawled on a piece of paper as Magee sat scowling at her. She winked at Paul Mansell.
Magee snatched the paper from her hand and looked at it in bewilderment. ‘Shit!’ He stomped out of the room.
‘Seen the light has he?’
‘Something like that. Let's hope your street girls remember you being there at twelve thirty.’ Melissa let her eyebrows rise in a knowing signal.
‘Thanks, Sergeant. Sorry, look, I can’t call you by your rank, it doesn’t sound right. Can I buy you a drink sometime?’
‘Maybe next time I’m in Bangkok,’ Melissa replied with a twinkle in her eye. ‘I wouldn’t mind spending more time out that way. I love the sea, scuba diving, sailing, anything to do with boats really.’
‘Who doesn’t? I had a week on a cruiser once. I managed it for a mate while he went off on business. The boat had a crew of six and we had to take groups of tourists out for a day’s fishing, look after them, and feed them. God, I was happy that week.’
‘Invite me along next time, please.’
‘You know something, I reckon I will.’
‘I’d better go and pacify my darling boss, he must be pretty pissed by now,’ Melissa said as she rose to leave the room. ‘Hope you get to Bangkok. Send me a postcard and I’ll come out to meet you. The name’s Melissa by the way, but only outside office hours.’
Magee was in the corridor reading the statements of some of the street girls who’d been dragged out of their beds earlier that morning, following Mansell’s attempted break out.
‘Didn't any of you think about checking these statements with the time of death?’ Magee asked in astonishment of the uniformed officers hanging around the charge desk.
Melissa turned and headed in the opposite direction.
‘Melissa! Don't sneak off. I'm not finished with you.’
‘Just a second, sir,’ she shouted back. ‘Must go to the loo.’
Magee stared at Melissa’s back as she walked away, furious at her actions.
‘Listen to this,’ Magee snapped, and read aloud, “I first saw him just after twelve thirty. I know that because he was new. I like to know when punters turn up for business.” Magee sighed as he threw the statement down onto the counter. ‘Mansell was in sight of one or more girls until he was picked up at one forty-five and charged here just after two. The doctor has placed the time of death at one, give or take a half hour. I don’t believe this.’
‘What’s that, sir?’ Melissa asked as she reappeared from her trip to the toilet.
Magee threw her a look of annoyance. ‘Were you trying to help him out back there?’
‘Me, sir? Course not, sir. Why would I do that, sir?’
‘Because he’s a handsome young man who just happens to share your passion for Thailand, that’s why.’
‘Handsome? Really? You think so? I hadn’t noticed.’
Magee scowled. ‘Don’t get cute with me, Melissa. He’s guilty as hell until we prove him innocent.’
It was Melissa’s turn to scowl. ‘I t
ake it that what’s in your hands suggests he couldn’t have done it.’
Magee sighed in dismay. All eyes were focused on him as though the whole mess was his doing. Maybe if he hadn’t been quite so quick to condemn Mansell, then perhaps he wouldn’t be in this position, he reflected. Not that such self-recrimination helped overcome his embarrassment. ‘Go and find out if he has an alibi between ten-thirty and twelve-thirty, will you, please?’
‘Sure.’
Two minutes later Melissa returned, barely concealing a smile. ‘He says he was out with some mates in Eastbourne. Says he left the pub just before eleven fifteen, had a cheeseburger with them before leaving then filled up with petrol at the Newmarket station about twelve fifteen. He says there should be a credit card receipt in his wallet. Says we're welcome to look, as long as we don't steal his cash.’
Magee’s scowl returned. He was less than happy when he found the receipt with a date and time clearly printed on it. It certainly settled matters; He wouldn't be able to hang the murder on Paul Mansell no matter what the Home Secretary had ordered. He drew a deep breath and headed back to the interview room.
Magee flung the interview room door open and stared down at Paul Mansell, who was doing his best to look innocent. He bit his lip in embarrassment, detesting the thought of having to admit he was wrong.
‘Mansell, you’ll not be charged today, but I'm warning you, I'm getting fed up with seeing your face. I can’t prove it yet, but I know you're up to your eyes in this case. If you think you're being set up, then you'd better start investigating your own clients. Don't get set up again by a nonexistent client. I won't wear that one next time, right?’
‘I won’t, I promise.’
‘And you can hand your passport in as well. I don't want you flying off to Bangkok just yet. One way or another, you’re involved. That means I want to know where you are at all times; you’re not getting away from me until I know precisely what’s going on.’
Paul Mansell broke into a broad grin. ‘Thanks, Chief Inspector. I'll bring the passport in later today. Which station?’
‘Whichever one is convenient. They'll give you a receipt. Tell them to contact me to say you’ve complied.’
‘Can I go now?’
‘I’m going, Mansell. Not you, though. You can stay until you’ve been dusted down. Maybe, just maybe, forensics will find the merest trace of something that will nail you. Remember this, just one fibre off your clothes that we can match to our crime scene and you’ll never get to see your beloved Thailand again.’
Paul Mansell smiled as Magee left the room. Two hours later he left the station a free man. He drew in several lungs full of fresh air and stared up into the skies at an airplane passing overhead at around twenty thousand feet, chuckled and said aloud. ‘Eat your heart out, Magee, you won’t stop me.’