Chapter 27

Arby and Pelliere introduced themselves formally and Dempsey declined to have a solicitor present. Spikings had got him one on standby and checked that Makepeace's solicitor had been informed of the situation but at this moment in time they were both deeming legal representation unnecessary. Dempsey tried to infuse some confidence into his thoughts: these interviews and Spiking's backing would clear their names within the hour and then they could all get on with finding out the real story behind the hit and run.

"How's Jonathan doin'?" Dempsey asked before the questioning started.

"Last we heard there was no change," Pelliere told him. "Don't worry, Lieutenant, if things take a turn for the worse, you'll definitely know about it."

Dempsey was conscious that right now, they were using the softly, softly approach. Should this turn into a murder case, all hell would be let loose.

From the moment they'd entered the room, the recording equipment had been deployed to capture the interview, as had been the case for Harry too. Nobody was taking any chances when the words 'police officer' and 'murder' were uttered in the same breath it seemed.

For the first half hour, the questioning was all about establishing the facts and Dempsey handled himself with a laudable amount of equanimity. But when the questions began to take on a rather less than moderate tone, he felt his hackles begin to rise.

"So, everything was sweetness and light at this little gathering on Saturday night, was it?" Arnby wanted to know. "Jonathan wasn't the proverbial bad penny? The spectre at the feast? You telling me that the pair of you welcomed him with open arms despite the fact that he'd effectively put the mockers on your night of passion?"

"Thanks for the compliment but I've yet to meet a woman who'd kill just to get me into bed," said Dempsey mildly.

"But his arrival created a bit of an atmosphere, possibly," Arnby persisted. "You said they'd rubbed along quite well when she'd been married to his brother. Saw each other as siblings, you said. I've always found that good friends make for fine enemies. It's my guess there was something between them, something from the past that had flared up again. Maybe when he paid a visit on Saturday night, it was to have it out with her." Arnby sat back, a thin smile playing about his lips. "How about that, Lieutenant?"

Dempsey laughed. "You got a real fertile imagination pal, but on this occasion, what you see is what you get. Guy needed a bed for the night, nothing else."

Pelliere looked up from his notes. "D.S Makepeace told you she hadn't met with him in four years, since well before the divorce from Robert Makepeace."

"Uh huh."

"Well," Pelliere frowned, "why would that be? If they'd been such great chums, why no contact just because her marriage had failed?"

"I don't know. We never discussed it."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Dempsey was starting to feel a little frayed around the edges.

"It's just that if you were covering for your lady friend this morning, I can't believe you'd do it without asking some pretty searching questions."

"Yup. If I'd o' been covering for her, I guess I would of but like I keep tellin' you fellas, she was in my apartment all night long and didn't leave 'til gone eight this morning. You ain't just barkin' up the wrong tree here, you ain't even in the right park! Makepeace wasn't drivin' that car; she's been set up."

"We will of course be looking into that possibility," said Arnby, "but…"

"It's a fact!" Dempsey said, louder than he'd intended. But the intensity of his response seemed to set him off. "There is NO possibility that she could of been in that car at any point in the last twenty-four hours without me knowing about it."

Arnby nodded. "But obviously, we can't take your word for that."

Putting his notebook aside, Pelliere asked, "So who in your opinion who would want to put D.S Makepeace in the frame for murder?"

"You mean aside from every dirt-bag she took off the streets for a stretch in the slammer?"

"Anyone who stands out in your mind? I'm thinking an organised gang, a syndicate… drugs, weapons? Not the sort of thing a lone individual would be likely to arrange."

Dempsey decided that Pelliere wasn't all bad. At least he wasn't fixed on the idea that it was Harry like this creep Arnby seemed to be.

"Yeah, that's it exactly!" The pressure that had been brewing in his head eased off. "The Cheadle brothers. Went down four months ago. Jimmy Cheadle put it out that he was gunnn' for us. This could be payback." Dempsey's mind unleashed a string of possibilities and his mouth followed through. "Razor Middleton! He was runnin' with the Gorsey Gang in Croyden when me an' Makepeace bust their drugs op. wide open. He lost more than just his credibility; lost an ear too! Word was they blamed him for getting' suckered by our cover." Dempsey tugged at his ear. "Razor failed to keep an ear to the ground so they cut it off with his own trademark weapon of choice."

"Both instances you've cited there involve you too, Lieutenant," said Arnby. "Why would they target your partner specifically for this so-called set-up?"

"How should I know?" Dempsey threw back in frustration. "Who knows, maybe I'm next."

Arnby tilted his head with a slight smile which said it was extremely unlikely seeing as it was Makepeace who was to his mind, still the guilty party.

For the next hour, they went through the details of the previous night with admirable meticulousness, teasing out the finer points as they built up a picture of the proceedings. When the subject of their alcohol consumption was brought up, laughably, Dempsey found himself glad that he was able to recount Harry's amorous advances as a reason for putting on the brakes where the red wine was concerned. But it also bothered him to realise that he'd rather endure a somewhat uncomfortable probe into their sexual activities than reveal his budding romance with the painkillers.

And he needed something right now. The pain was gathering momentum in his shoulder and there was a dull ache at his temples. They'd finish with him soon; they'd had almost two hours of his time already and he was due a bathroom break for sure.

"Look, are we done here? I mean, I'm happy to keep goin' at this all day long only I hate to think of all that tax payers money you'd be wastin' seein' as Makepeace didn't have nothin' to do with this."

He'd been doing so well only now he felt he was on the edge of losing it if they kept him much longer.

Neither Arnby nor Pelliere gave any response, Pelliere because it was Arnby's call and Arnby just because that was the way he chose to play it. He could tell Dempsey's patience was wearing thin which wasn't necessarily a bad thing as far as he was concerned; more likely to let something slip. He'd heard that the Yank was one of those – what was termed, 'Maverick Cops', lots of brazenness, bravado and bluster riding on the back of a death wish. He'd come across the type before but suspected that the American version would be completely insufferable. Push this one just a little bit harder and he would no doubt display his true colours.

At last, Arnby gave a deep sigh whilst Pelliere continued to scan his notes.

"I'd appreciate a few more minutes actually. Nearly done though."

Dempsey resisted the temptation to massage his shoulder knowing he only had to hang on for a little while now.

"Why did Sergeant Makepeace and her husband split up?"

Dempsey smiled unpleasantly. "Well it wasn't because of Jonathan if that's what you're… wait a minute, like you didn't know already she caught him screwin' around."

Arnby raised an eyebrow. "No. We didn't. That's why I asked. We're still fact gathering at the moment. Maybe your lot at SI-10 have that sort of information at your state-of-the-art fingertips but we're doing it the old fashioned way.

Dempsey instantly regretted giving them that titbit. It was nobody's business but Harry's why her marriage had ended and he knew how sensitive she was over it.

"So as far as you're aware, Jonathan Makepeace was never a factor. You don't think there was ever any kind of…" Arnby paused, his hand plumping the air as he sought his phrasing, "minor dalliance?"

"I already told you – no," said Dempsey firmly.

"You asked the question then?" put in Pelliere who didn't look up from his note scribbling.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I did," Dempsey threw back.

"And was there any particular reason for that?" the copper asked.

"Why does anyone ask a question like that? I was curious."

Pelliere see-sawed his pen, each end tapping repetitively on the page of his notebook. He shrugged. "Just wondered if you'd had cause to potentially put two and two together; if one of them had said something that made you think."

"Nope." Resolute and uncompromising.

Arnby picked up the reins seamlessly. "There wasn't a look that passed between them? No intimate little gestures, nothing like that?"

"Nope." His self-possession was slipping like a towel from around his hips. If things carried on down this line he'd be left exposed and in danger of losing his self-respect.

"So they were just very close," said Arnby.

Dempsey scowled. "Ain't nothin' wrong with that."

"Of course not. It isn't like platonic, close relationships can't exist between men and women is it?" said Arnby pointedly.

The jerk was deliberately needling him to get some kind of a rise.

"And what was Harry's answer?" Pelliere asked conversationally, "when you asked if there'd ever been anything between them I mean."

Dempsey turned his head in Pelliere's direction, keeping the rest of his body motionless. "No."

"And that was the end of it? You didn't feel the need to take it any further?"

"Nope." His head was throbbing and he could feel the sweat standing out on his forehead. His hand came up to press against the front of his jacket, the hard-edged pressure reassuring him that the small plastic tub was still in his breast pocket.

"Maybe you didn't bother to ask because it wasn't any of your business. Maybe yours isn't the sort of relationship that entertains petty jealousies? More of a convenience bunk-up situation, is it?"

He was starting to unravel and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Seething, he leaned across the table with menace. "I just told you, I asked the question, her answer was no, there'd never been anything between her and Jonathan Makepeace and I left it there because she doesn't lie to me, okay?" His teeth were practically grinding up the words before he spat them out. "So now I would like for you and…" he set his jaw at Arnby's colleague momentarily before continuing, "little Miss Pelliere here, to get the fuck out of my face, okay?"

Arnby didn't even blink.

"Don't cross me, Dempsey. All I'm after is the truth and believe me, your attitude just makes me want to dig deeper and harder." He slid forward smoothly so that they were practically nose to nose. "Mind I don't bury you in the process, aye?"

Dempsey had found himself physically shaking as he'd barged his way into the toilets, cursing and kicking at whatever lay in his path. A metal swing bin had borne the brunt of his shoe leather, a swathe of screwed up paper towels cascading across the tiled floor. A few pills and a dowsing of cold water in his face had helped him climb down from the ceiling but then he'd locked himself away inside one of the four cubicles whilst he calmed down.

Ten minutes stretched to twenty, his mind pulling together what had just happened and how he'd undoubtedly made everything a hundred times worse. He'd managed to make his little problem one hell of a big problem for Harry.

"Thoughts, Mike?

"They were taking a break in the canteen whilst they awaited the arrival of their suspect's lawyer. She'd finally realised that this wasn't going to miraculously solve itself after they'd advised her again to take up her right to legal representation.

Lieutenant Dempsey who had been left to stew in his own juices for almost an hour had been granted a ten minute supervised visitation with her which was taking place currently.

"She's a cool customer alright," Pelliere replied.

"Mmm. She's got to be hiding something hasn't she?"

Arnby's ugly façade was down for the moment whilst they reflected on the morning's work. Pelliere never ceased to be impressed by his superior's ability to create such a forbidding presence in the line of duty. He was passionate about the job and usually got the results he needed and if he didn't come across as 'likeable' exactly then that was probably a small forfeit to his mind.

Mike Pelliere knew Arnby and his family reasonably well. They and their wives had been out to dinner several times. He had three great, well-adjusted kids who thought the world of him. Pelliere remembered the first time he'd seen them together, playing cricket in the back garden, laughing at their dad's antics and clambering all over him. And only last week when he'd popped in to say hello whilst picking up his boss, the kids, now all teenagers were still more tactile with Arnby than Pelliere's own far younger pair were with him. Nobody on the receiving end of D.C.I Arnby would ever dream he was such a good, solid family man.

"Well," said Pelliere, pulling out of his unofficial musings, "our American friend certainly gave us some food for thought."

"Didn't he just! Really surprised me to be honest. Hadn't expected the nerves to kick in like that at the end. The idea that Harry Makepeace had had anything other than a friendship with Jonathan really rattled his cage, didn't it?"

Pelliere agreed. "Something has to have gone off there, surely. Definitely knows more than he's letting on. Talk about breaking into a cold sweat; the bloke was practically doing the front crawl!"

"Shame he took that toilet break when he did but still, it'll be interesting to see what we get from the CCTV footage."

It hadn't been down to bloody-mindedness that Dempsey had been made to wait before he got to see Harry. Not only was there a uniformed officer present but they'd set up a camera to allow their meeting to be put under the microscope. Dempsey's display of nerves had set alarm bells ringing and it had been thought there might be some benefit in monitoring their first contact after the interviews.

Pelliere picked up a second packet of sugar cubes from the pot in the middle of the table and added just one to his half-drunk mug of tea. It was a bad habit he'd somehow got into and it annoyed his wife no end.

"You know," he said, stirring his tea thoughtfully, "I was quite happy to go down the 'framed' road initially but now I'm thinking it's the Makepeace family closet we should be having a good old root around in. I'll bet there's something tucked away in there that they'd rather the world didn't know about."

"Soon as you've drunk that sludge then, Mike, I think we'll get a few boys and girls Narnia-bound. Bit delicate this one though. A titled copper needs to be handled with care and I don't mean for her sake. Anyone in your team you fancy for it?"

I promise that in Chapter 28, we'll see Dempsey and Harry together but I have to admit I quite like keeping them apart and in turmoil because it's nice to think of all that 'need' for each other going on LOL

Thanks very much for reading; it's great to know that there are people out there who enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it ;-x