Coming, Ready or Not (D.S. Hunter Kerr Book 4) by Michael Fowler Page A
Authors: Michael Fowler
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to himself.
DC Hagan ’s face changed and took on a worried look. ‘What a fucking mess, and all because of a one-night stand. Shit.’
Least of your troubles , mate. Hunter then asked, ‘Just going back a bit, Tom. You said you divvied up the pizza. What did you mean?’
His forehead creased into a frown, ‘I cut it in half. Well not just in half, into three slices each, but neither of us finished it. We left it on the side in the kitchen. I think there were a couple of pieces left.’
‘ What did you cut it with?’
‘ A knife. I asked Gemma if she’d got a pizza slicer, but she hadn’t.’
‘ Where did the knife come from?’
Tom Hagan ’s brow creased, ‘Kitchen drawer, I think. To be honest I didn’t see. Why?’
Hunter didn’t respond. He simply bunched his shoulders. That’s the answer I would have given if I had stabbed someone to death with a kitchen knife. He quickly tumbled this interview, and everything else he knew from previous briefings, around in his head. He lowered his eyes, pretending to read his notes as he gathered his thoughts. He recalled how the neighbour, Valerie Bryce had made the three-nines phone call to the police, telling the operator that Adam Fields was shouting and banging on Gemma’s back door, at just after ten past two on the morning of the 18th March. If what Tom Hagan had just told them was the truth, this meant that the time-gap between Tom leaving number 34 Manvers Terrace, and Adam Fields arriving at the address, and discovering Gemma’s body was approximately twenty-five minutes. Not a tight window, but neither a large one for them to focus on. He was just about to go back over Tom’s story when he recalled what Mike Sampson had introduced at this morning’s briefing. He asked, ‘When you last saw Gemma, what was she wearing?’
Tom Hagan ’s eyebrows knitted together. For a brief moment his eyes blanked. A few seconds later he answered. ‘A nightie.’ He pursed his mouth and momentarily gazed up to the ceiling, obviously thinking about the answer he had just given. Then his eyes returned and he nodded. ‘Yes, a short satin one – purple – and a matching kimono-type dressing gown. When I came out of the bathroom she was waiting for me on the landing. She had on the nightie and was wrapping the dressing gown around her. She said she’d see me out. Why?’
‘ Anything else?’
Momentarily, he screwed up his face.
Hunter examined his face. Tom Hagan’s eyes were wide open but they weren’t focused anywhere. There was an eerie silence for a good ten seconds and then he captured Hunter’s look. He shook his head, ‘No, just her nightie and dressing gown. I don’t think she had any slippers on or anything like that. I think she was barefooted when she let me out of the back door. She said she was gonna go straight back to bed, cos she was going to be knackered otherwise. She had a busy day ahead of her.’
‘ Did you notice any jewellery she had on?’
‘ Jewellery? Jewellery as in rings, bracelets?’ He seemed to think about the question again for a few seconds and then returned, ‘No. I remember she’d a watch on earlier, but she took that off before we went upstairs.’ He raised a finger. ‘Yeah, she took it off when we were kissing cos the strap caught in the back of my hair.’
‘ What about a necklace?’
He screwed up his forehead. ‘Necklace? No, she didn’t have a necklace on. Just a watch.’
Hunter and Grace grilled Tom Hagan for another hour, but they couldn’t shift him from his story. Following consultation with CPS, he was granted and given police bail. Two officers from the Professional Standards department had been waiting for the PPU Detective, and the moment he had stepped out of the interview room they had confronted him. They had served him with a ‘discipline notice’ and had duly suspended him from his duties.
It was well into the afternoon by the time Hunter and Grace had finished fingerprinting and
DC Hagan ’s face changed and took on a worried look. ‘What a fucking mess, and all because of a one-night stand. Shit.’
Least of your troubles , mate. Hunter then asked, ‘Just going back a bit, Tom. You said you divvied up the pizza. What did you mean?’
His forehead creased into a frown, ‘I cut it in half. Well not just in half, into three slices each, but neither of us finished it. We left it on the side in the kitchen. I think there were a couple of pieces left.’
‘ What did you cut it with?’
‘ A knife. I asked Gemma if she’d got a pizza slicer, but she hadn’t.’
‘ Where did the knife come from?’
Tom Hagan ’s brow creased, ‘Kitchen drawer, I think. To be honest I didn’t see. Why?’
Hunter didn’t respond. He simply bunched his shoulders. That’s the answer I would have given if I had stabbed someone to death with a kitchen knife. He quickly tumbled this interview, and everything else he knew from previous briefings, around in his head. He lowered his eyes, pretending to read his notes as he gathered his thoughts. He recalled how the neighbour, Valerie Bryce had made the three-nines phone call to the police, telling the operator that Adam Fields was shouting and banging on Gemma’s back door, at just after ten past two on the morning of the 18th March. If what Tom Hagan had just told them was the truth, this meant that the time-gap between Tom leaving number 34 Manvers Terrace, and Adam Fields arriving at the address, and discovering Gemma’s body was approximately twenty-five minutes. Not a tight window, but neither a large one for them to focus on. He was just about to go back over Tom’s story when he recalled what Mike Sampson had introduced at this morning’s briefing. He asked, ‘When you last saw Gemma, what was she wearing?’
Tom Hagan ’s eyebrows knitted together. For a brief moment his eyes blanked. A few seconds later he answered. ‘A nightie.’ He pursed his mouth and momentarily gazed up to the ceiling, obviously thinking about the answer he had just given. Then his eyes returned and he nodded. ‘Yes, a short satin one – purple – and a matching kimono-type dressing gown. When I came out of the bathroom she was waiting for me on the landing. She had on the nightie and was wrapping the dressing gown around her. She said she’d see me out. Why?’
‘ Anything else?’
Momentarily, he screwed up his face.
Hunter examined his face. Tom Hagan’s eyes were wide open but they weren’t focused anywhere. There was an eerie silence for a good ten seconds and then he captured Hunter’s look. He shook his head, ‘No, just her nightie and dressing gown. I don’t think she had any slippers on or anything like that. I think she was barefooted when she let me out of the back door. She said she was gonna go straight back to bed, cos she was going to be knackered otherwise. She had a busy day ahead of her.’
‘ Did you notice any jewellery she had on?’
‘ Jewellery? Jewellery as in rings, bracelets?’ He seemed to think about the question again for a few seconds and then returned, ‘No. I remember she’d a watch on earlier, but she took that off before we went upstairs.’ He raised a finger. ‘Yeah, she took it off when we were kissing cos the strap caught in the back of my hair.’
‘ What about a necklace?’
He screwed up his forehead. ‘Necklace? No, she didn’t have a necklace on. Just a watch.’
Hunter and Grace grilled Tom Hagan for another hour, but they couldn’t shift him from his story. Following consultation with CPS, he was granted and given police bail. Two officers from the Professional Standards department had been waiting for the PPU Detective, and the moment he had stepped out of the interview room they had confronted him. They had served him with a ‘discipline notice’ and had duly suspended him from his duties.
It was well into the afternoon by the time Hunter and Grace had finished fingerprinting and
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