Preface to Murder, M Morris [best selling autobiographies TXT] 📗
- Author: M Morris
Book online «Preface to Murder, M Morris [best selling autobiographies TXT] 📗». Author M Morris
Grant’s lawyer glanced sideways at his client, perhaps wondering the same thing. But the nervous energy that had animated the agent throughout the telling of his tale suddenly drained away and his face seemed to crumple. He stared back forlornly across the table. ‘How can I? The only witness who could corroborate my story is Diane, and she’s dead. You just have to believe my account.’
‘But why should we? Even if what you say about Diane being party to a publicity stunt is true, you might still only be telling us half the story.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Maybe it was all going so well that you decided to go the extra mile. Let’s say for the moment that you hadn’t originally intended to kill her. But once you saw that you had the potential for a bestseller on your hands, you decided to take it to the next level.’
‘No,’ gasped Grant.
‘A hoax death threat might have gained you a few column inches in the literary press, but by proceeding with the murder, you ensured that every newspaper and news channel in the country would give prime coverage to Diane and her book.’
‘No!’
Bridget sat up straight in her chair, lending added conviction to her accusation. ‘You were in Oxford on the night of Diane’s death, you had a clear motive for killing her, and you’ve admitted to sending her a death threat. Unless you can come up with a more convincing account, it’s very likely that we will be charging you with her murder.’
*
Bridget left the interview fuming. She couldn’t be certain whether Grant Sadler was telling the truth, or if he was lying desperately to save his skin. At the very least, she was going to charge him with intent to cause harassment, alarm or distress. Not to mention making threats to kill. Both were serious offences. But if the death threat really was a hoax as Grant claimed, then she was no closer to finding the identity of the murderer. In fact, the new information threw everything they had been working on into doubt.
‘What do you make of him?’ she asked Jake. ‘Do you believe him?’
‘It’s hard to believe a word he says.’
‘Agreed. But if he is telling the truth…’ She left the sentence unfinished, and stormed into the incident room, needing to put some space between herself and her suspect before she fully lost her temper with him.
In the office, all was calm, and everyone seemed to be busy with their tasks. Ffion was at her desk, her head buried in a book. In fact books were spread chaotically all over her normally tidy desk.
Bridget peered curiously over the young detective’s shoulder. The books appeared to be the works on cryptography from Diane’s house that Ffion had mentioned earlier. The page that Ffion was currently reading was incomprehensible to Bridget, full of complex diagrams and strange symbols. She leaned in closer and saw the word “steganography” highlighted in yellow marker. Bridget quickly moved on, leaving Ffion to her task.
Andy looked up from his computer screen as she approached, a spark of excitement animating his normally bland features. ‘There’s been a development, ma’am.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s the CCTV from the Travelodge where Grant Sadler has been staying. We requested it last week, but hadn’t had time to look at it properly. It didn’t seem like a top priority. Besides, they have so much of it. Cameras in reception, cameras by the lifts, more in the car park –’
Bridget didn’t really care where the hotel placed its cameras. ‘Have you found something?’ she asked.
‘Well, yes. I’ve been working through it while you were conducting the interview, and the results are pretty interesting. On the night of Diane’s murder, Grant Sadler didn’t stay in his room watching TV like he claimed. The footage clearly shows that he didn’t get back to the hotel until a few minutes before midnight.’
Bridget felt her anger beginning to rise once more. Was there no limit to the number of lies the unscrupulous literary agent had told her?
She spun on her heels and marched straight back into the interview.
27
Bridget took her seat across from Grant and studied his ashen face. Were his crumpled features an acceptance of his guilt at last, or simply a blind fear of his prospects? She waited to see how he would respond to her return.
He leaned towards her with a pleading look in his eyes. ‘Please don’t charge me with Diane’s murder.’
‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.’
‘Because I’ve told you everything I know. You simply have to believe me.’
‘Is that the best you can offer? Because I now have fresh evidence that I would like to put to you.’
If it was possible for a man who looked like he had lost everything to take on an even more deflated appearance, Grand Sadler did just that.
‘When I spoke to you the day after Diane’s death,’ said Bridget, ‘you told me that after leaving the literary festival, you stopped for a quick pint at the White Horse and then went back to your hotel.’
Grant shifted nervously in his chair. Beside him, his lawyer sighed, clearly aware that more bad news was coming.
‘CCTV from the Travelodge now shows that you didn’t return there until just before midnight.’ Bridget referred to a copy of the post-mortem report that she had brought into the interview. ‘The pathologist who carried out Diane’s post-mortem stated that the time of death was between eleven
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