Tony Hill u Carol Jordan 08 - Cross and Burn

racking his brains for an explanation as to how his blood had ended up on Nadia Wilkowa’s cuff and he’d drawn a blank. It didn’t help that he was feeling anxious. Stress was an enemy of recollection. Tranquillity, that was how you got the memories to flow. Not being wound up to a pitch.
    When they finally returned, he practically jumped to his feet. ‘This is crazy,’ he said. ‘Paula, we’ve known each other for years. You know I didn’t kill anyone.’
    ‘Sit down, Dr Hill,’ Fielding said. ‘This isn’t about how well any of us knows you. It’s about following the evidence where it leads us. And right now, it’s only leading us in one direction.’ She plonked her folder down on the table and drew a piece of paper out of it. ‘Let’s see what you make of this, shall we? You know what that is?’
    ‘It’s a fingerprint. Kind of smudged, but it’s a fingerprint.’
    ‘Actually, it’s a thumbprint. The right thumb, to be exact. And so is this.’ She proffered a printout of an official print card. ‘Identical, I think you’d have to agree?’
    This was starting to feel very uncomfortable. ‘I have no expertise,’ Tony said, his lips tight.
    ‘You don’t need expertise, you only need eyes. The print on the official record card was freely given by you just over three years ago. The other one was lifted from the back of Bev McAndrew’s phone earlier today.’
    There was a long silence. Tony could hear his blood pounding in his ears. The wheels were going round but they were gaining no traction. ‘When did she go missing?’ he asked, trying to buy time.
    ‘She left work on Monday at the usual time. Shortly after half past five,’ Paula said.
    He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I think I was at a meeting in Bradfield Cross on Monday afternoon… I need to check my diary.’
    ‘I’m not impressed with the absent-minded professor act,’ Fielding said. ‘Monday. This week. Where were you?’
    Now it was time to find some steel. ‘I already said. I need to check my diary.’ He pushed the chair back. ‘Are we about done here?’
    ‘Not quite.’ When she smiled, Fielding could look almost gentle. Nobody would have guessed, looking at her granite face then. ‘Dr Hill, when did you last see ex-DCI Carol Jordan?’
    Now he’d really had enough. He wasn’t going to talk to this idiot any longer. He stood up. ‘This interview is terminated. I’m done with answering your short-sighted questions. I’ve spent years trying to instil some understanding into police officers. And this is where it ends up.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Find somebody else to monster, DCI Fielding. I’m not playing any more.’ He made for the door, but Fielding was ahead of him.
    ‘Anthony Valentine Hill, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder. 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.’
    He took a step back, turning to Paula, his face a mask of shock. ‘Is she serious?’
    ‘She’s serious, Tony.’
    He walked away from Fielding and sat down heavily in one of the chairs. ‘Then, no comment.’ Tony folded his arms across his chest and stared straight ahead. Inside, he was in turmoil. But on the outside, he would give nothing away.
    Not until he’d figured out how to dig himself out of this hole.

42

    P aula watched the duty sergeant walk Tony down to his cell. She’d processed him herself, making sure he was clear what he was entitled to. And that the duty sergeant knew she was looking out for her prisoner. ‘You should call a lawyer,’ she said.
    ‘You can make the call from here,’ the sergeant added, pointing to a payphone.
    ‘I’ll sleep on it,’ Tony said. His face was drawn and tired and he seemed to have shrunk since he’d arrived at the station.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Paula said.
    He nodded. ‘I know. It’s OK. We’re good.’
    She desperately wanted to say more, but couldn’t risk it. This was Fielding’s nick, not hers, and she didn’t know who to trust yet. Weary and unsure of what to do for the best, she headed upstairs, pausing for a cigarette break before facing Fielding and the murder squad. Cody was leaning against the wall by the door, blowing a stream of smoke upwards. ‘Nice work,’ he said.
    ‘You think?’
    ‘It’s always good to get a collar early on. Gets the brass off your back and the media out of your