she’d get a great reference from Far and Away — and I’d try and get another apprenticeship, maybe even start college again. Jack has already said he’d write me letters of introduction or anything I need.”
After a few seconds, Warren started again.
“We know that Sally and her father disagreed over you. Were you aware that the day before she disappeared, she met her father and told him that she thought you were going to propose?”
Blackheath looked thunderstruck.
“What? I don’t understand. How could she have known? I never said anything.”
Warren shrugged slightly.
“You didn’t hide the ring as well as you thought. Regardless, she spoke to her dad about it. He claims that she was having cold feet, that getting married seemed like a big step. He thinks she was going to leave you and come back to live with them.” This last bit was probably a bit of an exaggeration, but Warren was keen to see Blackheath’s reaction.
“No! No way!”
Blackheath shook his head violently, his voice rising. “We were in love. We’d planned our future out together — she wanted to get married. She wanted kids. He’s lying.”
“Why would he lie to us, Darren? He was her father. He just wanted what was best for his little girl. No offence, son, but you’re hardly a prize catch, are you? A poorly paid tyre fitter with a questionable police record hanging over you. And what about those football trips, eh? Whilst Sally was away with her mates in the sun, you’d be off with the lads doing drugs and shagging birds. I hope at least you learnt from your last mistake and you use a condom.”
Blackheath recoiled from Sutton’s accusation as if he’d been physically slapped. “How dare you? I’ve never so much as looked at another woman since I met Sally. And as for drugs, I’ve never touched them. Those football tours are hard work, five games in five days. We’re aiming to top our league — coach won’t let us have more than two beers in the evening and we have to be in bed by midnight. Who told you this bullshit?”
Sutton shrugged. “Not important. The thing is, I can’t help wondering what your response might have been if she decided she didn’t want to get married. You’ve told us repeatedly how great life was with Sally, how finally things were moving forward and how you had plans for the future. Well, what if you suddenly find out that isn’t going to happen? You said yourself how she was going through a rebellious streak when she met you. Maybe she didn’t ‘get over it’. Talking about getting married and having kids — it was just a fantasy. One in the eye for her old man. Maybe he was right and she was coasting, then when she realised you were serious and really did want to get married she got cold feet. It wasn’t a game any more. And who would she turn to to rescue her? Well, Dad, of course.”
Blackheath was shaking his head violently. He was gripping the edge of the table, and his knuckles had turned bone white. “No. Why would you say that? We loved each other.” His voice was strangled, whether with grief or anger Sutton couldn’t be sure. Regardless, he pressed on.
“We’re just brainstorming, son. It’s just that I can’t help asking myself what your response would be. I know that if I was in your position, I’d be pretty pissed off. Everything is finally rosy. All that shit about Bradshaw is in the past and the future is looking great. Then ‘wham!’ it all comes crashing down. She finds the ring — in your sock drawer, come on, lad! — and tells you it’s over, she can’t get married.” Sutton leant forward, his expression looking for all the world like a bad actor trying to look sympathetic towards someone he despised. “I bet she even did the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing. Did she tell you that she’d always love you and you’d remain friends?” Sutton shook his head and looked at Warren. “I hate it when they do that, don’t you, sir?”
Warren nodded. “I wish they’d just be honest. I reckon it’s a way of feeling less guilty for treating you so badly.”
Sutton turned back. “Doesn’t make you feel any better though, does it? Makes you feel even more humiliated. And how do you tell your mates? Or the blokes at work? And what about your mum and dad? If she leaves you can you afford the rent on your own? It’s back to the granny flat with your tail between your legs. And what about the whispering? I’ll bet there’s a few crass enough to tell her it’s for the best and bring up the whole Kim Bradshaw thing. No wonder you were so angry.”
Blackheath was now crying. “No, never. It never happened like that. I know what you’re saying, that I was so angry about being dumped by Sally that I killed her. But I didn’t. I couldn’t do that to her. She never said anything about finding the ring. And even if she had, I’d never lay a finger on her. I love her too much.”
For the next few moments, the room was silent, save for Blackheath’s sobbing. Eventually, he wiped his eyes and sniffed loudly. “I’m not going to say another word without a lawyer.” He nodded towards the tape machine. “I was stupid to say anything without one.”
Warren shrugged. “No need for a lawyer. Like I said, you aren’t under arrest and are free to leave at any time. We have no more questions. Interview terminated at witness’ request.” Stating the time, he leant forward and turned off the tape recorder.
“Thank you for your time, Mr Blackheath. Would you like a lift back to work, or can we arrange for a cab to take you home?”
Blackheath could only look on with surprise. “I’ll walk,” he mumbled.
With that, Warren called the duty sergeant. Within a minute, the young man was out on the street, breathing in the icy December air.
* * *
Back in the interview room, Warren polled his fellow officers. “Thoughts?”
“I think he’s genuine. I rattled his cage good and hard but his story never changed. My gut tells me he didn’t do it.” Sutton shrugged apologetically as if sorry that he hadn’t been able to wring a confession out of the young man.
“I have to agree with DI Sutton, sir. He seemed genuine when we saw him yesterday and he hasn’t changed a single detail since then. I think he really did love her. I also think her father was wrong and that she was going to marry him.”
Warren agreed with both Sutton and Hardwick. “My gut feeling is exactly the same. But we can’t completely rule him out without eyewitness evidence or forensics—” he glanced at his watch “—which I am expecting any minute. Tell you what, why don’t you two go and have an early lunch? We’ll get the rest of the team together and have a meeting at one p.m.”
“Yes, sir,” both officers replied as Warren left the room.
Karen Hardwick turned to Sutton. “How do you do it, sir?”
Sutton knew what she was asking about. “You just have to put aside your feelings. It doesn’t matter if you feel sorry for them or not. Policing isn’t a popularity contest. Sometimes you have to be harsh and nasty, because it’s a harsh and nasty world.” He grimaced slightly. “Even if it does leave an unpleasant taste in your mouth.”
“Well, when we find the real killer, hopefully he’ll understand.”
Sutton shrugged. “Time will tell.”
Suddenly the door opened again and the desk sergeant poked his head around the door. “DCI Jones says don’t be late back from lunch. Blackheath’s off the hook and you’ve got a new suspect.”
After a revelation like that, lunch was the last thing on Sutton’s and Hardwick’s minds and both raced upstairs to the CID main office. One p.m. was nearly an hour away and detectives by their very nature were insatiably curious; there was no way that the two officers were going to wait to find out what had been discovered. Unfortunately, the door to Warren’s office was closed. The DCI’s rules were very clear — if the door was