believe you, really I do, but we have to prepare for what they’re going to ask you in interview.’
I stopped pacing to look at her. ‘All I can do is tell the truth. If that isn’t good enough I don’t know what is.’
She smiled at me reassuringly. ‘I’m sure that will be fine, but just so I don’t have any surprises I need you to go through what happened that day, okay?’
I nodded and sat down, letting her grill me for about twenty minutes about the day Jimmy was stabbed. I was impressed with her manner as her sharp mind drove me to remember details that I’d almost forgotten. Once we had been through it all a good three times, she judged us ready for interview and we left the room to see my captors waiting impatiently in the corridor.
‘Ready? Good.’ Barnett could hardly wait to open the interview room door and gesture us inside.
The room was set up with the huge tape machine against the far wall and a table by the near wall surrounded by four chairs. Barnett sat and tried to make pleasant conversation, while Brown filled out tape labels with my custody number and got their file ready.
A few minutes later, Brown had everything prepared and pressed the button on the large tape machine. It buzzed annoyingly for a few seconds, and then the tapes began rolling. Brown began speaking, her clear voice echoing in the small room.
‘It is 08.37 hours on Wednesday, the 14th of May 2008. We are in an interview room at Worthing custody centre. I am DC Angela Brown, DB429, and the other officer present is …’
Barnett chimed in, looking bored. ‘DC Steve Barnett, CB776.’
Brown took the lead back. ‘Thank you. Also present is …’
‘Kerry Nielsen, solicitor for PC Bell.’
‘Thank you. Can you tell me your full name and date of birth, please?’ This to me, who was beginning to feel slightly left out.
‘PC Gareth Bell, CB925; 7th September 1976.’
I probably shouldn’t have added my rank and warrant number, but I was still a copper and I wanted that made clear.
‘Thank you, Gareth. Do you agree that there is no one else present in the room?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay, I’m going to caution you now. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand the caution?’
‘I should damn well hope so,’ I blurted before remembering I was on tape.
Angela smiled at me in understanding.
‘Okay, the reason you have been arrested is that yesterday, in court, during the trial of Quentin Davey, it was shown that evidence vital to the case had been removed and replaced with something else. Namely, exhibit GB/250308/1355, a black-handled knife which had either been removed or was never placed in the tube, and instead a rubber knife was found there. The records show that you were the last person that touched the unsealed tube. What can you tell me about that?’
Just thinking about it made me angry and my carefully planned answers evaporated as my emotions took over. ‘It’s a travesty, that’s what it is! That piece of crap stabbed my mate in front of me and somehow he paid someone off to swap the evidence over. I had no idea that it had happened. Do you really think that I would stand up in court against him if I’d tampered with the evidence? And how am I supposed to have done that if there were five other officers watching me when I put the knife in the tube?’
Angela looked slightly put out by my outburst. ‘That’s what we’re trying to find out, Gareth. So you’re saying that when you seized the knife, you put it in the tube and sealed it, is that correct?’
‘Yes, of course it is!’
‘Okay, I’m just trying to get things straight in my own head, there’s no need to get angry.’
‘No need to get angry? No need to get angry? You’ve arrested me and accused me of tampering with the evidence that would have convicted the bastard who stabbed Jimmy! How am I supposed to feel? He’s my best mate, I’ve known him for years and we’re completely loyal to each other. Not that I’d expect you worms from PSD to understand that, always looking for excuses to shop in another officer. Listen carefully, I’m not going to repeat myself. I had nothing to do with the evidence going missing. If I find out who did, I’m going to drag them in here by the hair and hand them to you. Other than that, I have nothing more to say.’
I crossed my arms and sat back. Who the hell did they think they were to imply that I’d had anything to do with something that would hurt Jimmy? I glared at my interviewers across the table, daring them to challenge me.
Angela tried to sound calming, despite the colour in her cheeks and the annoyance showing clearly in her eyes. ‘So you’re saying that you won’t answer anymore questions on this matter, is that correct?’
I just stared, knowing full well how frustrating it was as the interviewing officer to have nothing but silence on the tape.
Barnett leaned forward, taking his hand from the pepper spray it had strayed to during my outburst. ‘Come on, Gareth, we’re only trying to find out what happened. You can’t blame us for that. We’re trying to help Jimmy.’
I stared at the wall behind his head as I counted silently to ten. They tried a few more times, but I was having none of it, and at 08.43 hours they wrapped up the interview. Six minutes was probably the shortest PSD interview ever, but I didn’t feel particularly special as I was led back to the consultation room and left there with my solicitor.
When we were alone I looked at Kerry, trying to gauge her mood.
‘Uh, look, I’m sorry about that but this is bullshit and they know it. They’re just wasting time in the hopes of an easy outcome while the person that did it is laughing at us.’
She sighed and shuffled her notes. ‘We all know that but I really don’t think you helped yourself in there. You don’t respond well to pressure, do you?’
‘Actually, I do. It’s just bullshit that makes me lose my rag.’
‘I see. Well, all we can do is wait and see what happens. I can only assume that you’ll be suspended pending further investigation. With something this serious at least we can hope for a short bail date.’
I didn’t really listen to anything past the word ‘suspended’. My stomach tied itself up in knots again as I thought about the grief that Davey had wrought. Every time I thought the slimy little bastard had gone too far, he somehow managed to go still further. He couldn’t have had a better result if he’d planned it this way.
A few minutes later I was hauled in front of the custody sergeant again. This time he had a bail notice for me. I was to return to Worthing custody at 11.00 a.m. the Wednesday after next. Kerry had been right about the short date, usually bail was for a month or more while they, or should I say we, tried to put together a convincing case. Kerry said goodbye to me at the doors and after taking my mobile number she drove off, leaving me with my arresting officers.
‘You’re okay getting back to Hove I take it, mate?’ Barnett asked, his voice sweet as he turned and closed the door, shutting me outside with no hint of remorse.
Cursing under my breath, I began the long walk back to the train station, adding Barnett to the mental list I keep of people who will get their comeuppance come judgement day.
Two hours later I was sitting at home in my front room, enjoying the space that I hadn’t refilled since my ex-wife, Lucy, had taken all of the furniture, apart from the sofa and my widescreen TV. I flicked idly through the