They've spent over an hour with Davidson in the interview room, but with very little to show for it. The man has resisted answering any of Hathaway's questions, which so far have been confrontational and accusatory. Lewis takes a deep breath. Hathaway knows this is his signal that control will shift to the inspector.
"Look, Harry . . . We're short on viable suspects here, and you happen to be at the top of our list. If you can give me any reason to look in some other direction, I'll be happy to do so. But from where I'm standing, you're the one who has petrol in his shed, access to the stolen knives, and a serious dislike of Sandee as your boss and as a foreigner. You're not even very convincing in your claim that you didn't know he was dead, it's been all over the news."
"I don't get the paper and I don't have a telly, in case you didn't notice. I've been home drinking for the last several days, haven't gone out at all."
He studies Lewis. His sobriety is returning now that he's been separated from his vodka bottle for some time. "You might ask John Marks. He'd be happy to see Sandee killed, they were dead even for the guv'nor's job."
Lewis cocks his head. "Explain."
"Dunnington's retiring in April. There's two blokes fightin' for the appointment to replace him: Sandee and Marks. Lots of dirty tricks and politics in that runoff, I can tell you."
"Thank you, Mister Davidson. We'll see what we can find out about that. Don't go anywhere, alright?"
This last comment is superfluous; Davidson is still in custody. The two detectives take a break from the interview, Hathaway heading out for a cigarette and Lewis going back to the office to update the incident board and give Dunnington a call. As he is writing up the notes, DCS Innocent comes over to see what he is adding.
"You're only holding him? Why not charge him?"
Lewis glances up, startled at the interruption. "Ah, no, Ma'am. I'm not comfortable charging him yet. Right now he's our strongest suspect but it's a weak case. Not enough to stick. We're getting there, but I don't really think he's our man."
Innocent frowns. "Don't ignore a perfectly good suspect you have in hand for one you haven't even identified yet, Inspector."
He rolls his eyes at her departing back.
When Lewis phones, Dunnington confirms Davidson's statement about the two men who were competing for his position. So Lewis and Hathaway are soon once again at Malmaison, in an office with John Marks.
"What d'you think your odds were, of comin' out on top in this duel, had Jay Sandee not met an untimely end?" Lewis is playing the amiable Geordie copper, in rather stark contrast to Marks's decidedly RP English.
It is only because of his deeply engrained manners that Marks directs his answer to the man who asked the question, rather than to the one he believes would be better suited to be in charge.
"I really couldn't say, Inspector. It would depend in part on the future the board of directors sees for Malmaison, whether they want it to remain a top-ranked, world-class establishment, or something more . . . profitable." He says the last word as though he can hardly bear the taste of it on his tongue. "Sandee was capable, certainly, but lacked an Englishman's instinct for high quality."
"I should think you'd have the job in hand, with him gone, am I right?"
"Yes, Mister Dunnington told me the board would be making its decision this week, but that there would be little debate at this point, due to . . . recent events."
"Convenient for you, Sandee's death."
Marks looks outraged. "Inspector, I must take issue with your slanderous implication. Do you really think I had anything to do with the poor man's murder?"
Lewis adopts a placating tone. "It's our job to think all manner of things, Mister Marks. Thank you for your time. We'll see ourselves out."
They are back in the office, discussing Marks's demeanor. Although Lewis is clearly offended by Marks's high-handed bearing, he dismisses the man as a suspect.
"Really, I don't see Marks as sniffing around Iffley at night trying to cut up his competition with a sushi knife, do you? Besides, he has an iron-clad alibi, everyone saw him at work until past midnight."
He catches Hathaway's look. "What? Talk to me, Hathaway."
"Sir, he could have hired out the job, couldn't he? We don't know anything substantive about his background. You can't assume he's above dirty deeds just because of his posh accent."
Lewis rolls his eyes at their role reversal. "I think, Sergeant, I'm the last person likely to make that assumption. But what evidence do we have of anything underhanded?"
"Nothing. That doesn't mean it's not out there."
"Well, let's talk to Davidson again. He should have sobered up a bit by now."
Hathaway glances at the clock. "Erm, Sir . . . it's just . . ."
It takes Lewis a moment to catch on. "Oh, your date with Vicki. Going somewhere nice?"
"I'm not really sure, Sir. All I know is I'm to pick her up in about two hours' time."
"Go ahead, then, get out of here. I can talk to Davidson on me own. He doesn't care much for you, anyway." Then Lewis pauses as Hathaway turns to go. "James, are you . . . taking backup at all?"
Hathaway stops without turning around. "No, Sir. It's a date this time, not part of an investigation. Alright?" Lewis can hear his teeth are clenched.
"Fine, fine, just asking, is all. She's stopped her stalking behaviors, just as she said she would, so what's to worry about?" Lewis finds himself much more relaxed about the idea of Hathaway going out with her. But he adds one more thing before the sergeant leaves.
"Hathaway?"
"What?"
"Have a nice night. Don't worry about coming in a bit late tomorrow, okay?"
The younger man leaves without turning around or saying a word.
After Hathaway is gone, Lewis has Davidson brought to an interview room. He joins the suspect promptly, not making him wait.
"I talked to your Mister Marks, and he confirmed what you said about there being a two-way competition for Dunnington's position."
Davidson grunts in satisfaction.
"But I'm not certain you helped yourself by telling us about it. Y'see, Marks couldn't have killed Sandee, several witnesses saw him at work that night long past the hour Sandee was killed."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Well, maybe you're right. Maybe Marks couldn't stand the idea of a Paki like Sandee taking over the management." Lewis carefully hides his distaste for the derogatory term. " Maybe he was afraid his chances weren't too good without a little outside help." He leans over the table. "And maybe he knew of someone who felt the same way about Sandee, someone who could do him a little favor now in exchange for leniency in enforcing work rules later." He stares significantly at Davidson.
It takes the man some time to work through this, despite his relative sobriety.
Davidson stands up explosively, his chair flying backward behind him, and grabs at Lewis's necktie. "That's ridiculous! You bastard!"
But Lewis is too quick, and the PC standing motionless at the door springs to life, pinioning Davidson's arms behind him in a smooth, practiced move.
As Davidson stands panting, struggling minimally, Lewis calmly looks up at the PC. "Ta, Kathy. Nice catch." And he leaves.
