Indefensible (DI Sara Ramsey Book 12) - M Comley (reading books for 4 year olds .txt) 📗

client’s car leaving the murder scene. Next you’ll be denying this is your car I take it, Jo.”

His head protruded and he stared at the final photo Sara had placed on the table. “What the…? Yes, I’m denying it. Someone must have cloned my car. That’s not mine.”

“Cloned it?” Sara laughed. “That’s funny, I’ve never heard that one before during an interview. Why on earth would someone do that?”

He folded his arms tighter. “How the fuck should I know? That’s not my car.”

“We’ll let the courts decide, shall we? We’ve impounded your car and ordered a search warrant for your home. You’ll be spending time in the cells until you admit to us why you committed these two murders.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve made a bloody mistake, I’m telling you. Why won’t you believe me?”

“The evidence is clear for us all to see.”

The solicitor leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Jo sat back and stared at him. “I ain’t admitting nothing. This is all bullshit. I’m not admitting to someone else’s sins. What do you frigging take me for?”

“If you insist on pleading your innocence, you’re only going to make matters worse for yourself once you go before a jury.”

He wrung his hands nervously. “That’s bollocks, all this is shite I’m telling you.”

“Give it up, Jo. We’ve got all we need to convict you. Why don’t you save us all time by admitting you killed these two women and be done with it?”

He leaned forward and shouted, “Because I didn’t do this, any of it. You’ve got the wrong person.”

“Why tell us we’ve made a mistake when the evidence is right there, for all to see? This is you withdrawing money from an ATM. We traced the transaction, it led back to Val Purcell’s account.” Sara tapped the woman’s photo. “You’ll be telling us next that you’re not in possession of her bank card. I’m warning you, don’t waste your breath.”

“I’m not, and I don’t have a clue where the old woman’s card is.” He growled.

“Why change your MO? Why go from knocking on the old lady’s door and killing her in her own home to attacking this young woman down an alley, raping and then murdering her at the scene?”

“What? I fucking did no such thing. I’ve never raped no one. You cannot pin this one on me. No way!”

Sara watched his body language throughout for any sign she was getting close to the truth. “We’ll see what Forensics have to say to prove you wrong. You’re here, why not admit your guilt and we can move on? Get you processed and on your way to a comfy prison cell.”

“Fuck off. Is this how it works these days? Cops fucking falsifying evidence? Is that how you meet your damn targets?”

“No, and we’re not falsifying any evidence. Why won’t you admit it? What’s to gain from putting up the barriers and denying this is you in this photo?”

“Doh! Let’s see… because it’s the fucking truth, but you’re refusing to accept what I’m telling you.”

“All right, let’s approach things from a different angle, shall we?”

“Go for it. Because you’re not getting very far with the route you’ve chosen so far, are you?”

Sara narrowed her eyes and stared at him. He was starting to try her patience. She inhaled a deep breath to keep her anger under control and pinned a false smile in place. “Okay, perhaps you can tell me if anyone has access to your car?”

Zappel hesitated before he answered. Then he vehemently shook his head. “Nope. Next?”

“Right, that didn’t work. So we’re back to square one. We have enough proof to place you at the scene of both c rimes.”

“Like fuck you do. Don’t give me that bullshit.”

“Val Purcell died after an intruder got into her house and robbed her of a stash of cash and apparently her bank card.” Sara poked at the ATM photo. “And here, we have you withdrawing extra funds from her account. How did you get hold of her card within a few hours of her death?”

“I didn’t. That’s not me. It’s someone who looks like me.”

“Really? Next you’ll be telling me that someone is doing their best to fit you up for the crimes.” Sara laughed.

“Yep, you’ve hit the bullseye with that one, babe.”

I hate that frigging name!

She chose not to reprimand him for his choice of offensive name. “What is it going to take for you to admit your guilt?”

“I don’t know, let me think. Ah yes, I’ll admit it when bloody Hell freezes over because, read my lips here, I didn’t frigging do what you’re trying to pin on me.”

“Mr Jordan, I’m going to leave the room for a few minutes. Maybe you’d like to have a word with your client in my absence. Make him aware how foolish his claims are in light of the evidence we’ve got at our disposal to prove the opposite.”

“I think that’s a very wise move, Inspector,” Jordan replied. He raised a hand to prevent Zappel from objecting.

Carla ended the recording session and she followed Sara out of the room. The uniformed officer who had been overseeing the events left with them. “Can you remain here, Jon?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Good. I need a quick coffee. Come on, we’ll go upstairs, let them stew for ten minutes or so.” They walked up the hallway to the sound of Jo Zappel shouting at his solicitor.

“That man sure has a bloody mouth on him. Do you think the solicitor is safe in there with him?” Carla asked.

“Jon’s only a few feet away. He’ll return to the room if he feels things are getting out of hand in there.”

“What do you make of what he’s said so far?”

“He’s lying. Trying to bloody pull the wool over our eyes, probably because we’re both women.” Sara reached the top of the stairs and pushed open the door to the incident room. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Carla replied. She sank into a nearby chair and heaved out a frustrated sigh.

“Don’t let the fucker