A Genuine Mistake by Ted Tayler (miss read books txt) 📗

said Gus. “We’ll test it when we’ve got the answers we want from Rachel and Byron.”

“Although…” said Blessing.

“Go on,” said Gus, “What doesn’t fit?”

“Why take both gloves? The killer only needed one to remove his fingerprints. Why waste the extra few seconds it took to remove the second glove? In fact, why not leave the gloves where they were and just use them to wipe the gun clean?”

Gus pondered the scene for a few seconds.

“No, that won’t work. The killer needed something to help disguise the gun as he made his escape. How would he carry it without leaving evidence or risk it getting spotted? There’s something else that’s troubling me.”

“What’s that, guv?” asked Blessing.

“If this were a hired assassin, he would make the necessary preparations beforehand. He wouldn’t stand on the doorstep working out what to do next.”

“It was always possible it was someone with a grievance,” said Blessing. “Someone that Gerry had pushed to the brink. If it were the first time that they’d fired a gun, they could have panicked.”

“That’s more than likely,” said Gus. “It opens up another possibility, Blessing. The gun was there to threaten Gerry Hogan, but murder was never part of the plan. Our surprised killer had a dead body at his feet and a smoking gun. The gloves provided a temporary cover, plus a way of wiping the weapon clean. The rest of the picture we painted still holds good. He ran off, cleaned the gun and dropped it down a drain.”

Gus rapped the steering wheel.

“I knew there was something funny about that gun.”

“Why, guv,” asked Blessing.

“There was only one shot fired. That was what the neighbour heard. Forget the motorcycle backfiring. That’s rubbish. When the council operative discovered the gun five months later, it was empty. It only ever had one bullet in it.”

“That begs another question, guv,” said Blessing. “If murder wasn’t on that man’s mind, why bother with ammunition at all?”

They arrived in the Old Police Station car park, and Gus parked the car.

“Have I made things worse, guv?” asked Blessing as they entered the lift.

“Our first job is to ask Rachel Cummins about the gloves,” said Gus.

The rest of the team were spinning their wheels, waiting for information from the Hub.

“We’ve heard nothing yet, guv,” said Luke. “They promised something by close of play today.”

“Did you two make any progress?” asked Alex.

“White gloves,” said Blessing. “Sean Hogan told us his Dad wore white gloves when refereeing frames between him and Byron. We’re checking whether Gerry Hogan wore them when he stepped outside the house.”

“He wasn’t wearing gloves when he died,” said Lydia, looking at the crime scene photos on the wallboard.

“Ah,” said Blessing. “He might have been. The killer could have removed them.”

Neil Davis gave a low whistle.

“Either he was a cool customer, or something went wrong,”

Blessing nodded. Gus was still talking on the phone.

“We can’t ask Byron whether he remembers the gloves until he gets home from his latest snooker tournament,” she said.

“Who’s he playing this week, Blessing,” asked Neil. “Is it the Russian billiards player, In- off the Red?”

“I don’t know the names of any professionals,” said Blessing.

“Some fall on stony ground, Neil,” said Alex.

Gus ended the call and leaned back in his chair.

“Right, I don’t know how much Blessing has told you of what we learned from Belinda and Sean Hogan, but this case could have just turned on its head.”

“If it’s a positive turn, I’m in favour, guv,” said Luke.

“Rachel Cummins has just told me she didn’t pick up any white gloves on the porch,” said Gus. “She was adamant that Gerry wasn’t wearing gloves.”

“Is she suggesting Sean was mistaken, guv?” asked Neil.

“Not at all. Sean told us Gerry wasn’t the only one to wear the gloves. They took it in turns when they refereed a frame to replicate what Byron would experience in his career as closely as possible. It was one of many examples of coaching him on the road to becoming world champion.”

“What next, guv?” asked Luke.

“Sean knows we wish to speak to Byron. I’m hoping he hasn’t rung him already and mentioned those gloves. I want to get to him before he’s aware of what Sean told us.”

“We have a contact number for a World Snooker representative, guv,” said Luke. “Shall I try to get through to Byron this afternoon?”

“You can try, Luke. Sean mentioned China next weekend. They’re playing in Europe somewhere this week. At least we shouldn’t need to get Byron out of bed.”

“Unless he’s a chip off the old block,” said Lydia.

Luke made the call.

“We’ll update our files,” said Gus. “The rest of you will need to wait until tomorrow morning to have time to read through what the two of us learned. When did you last give the Hub a nudge, Lydia?”

“It’s only half-past three, guv. Divya said we’d get the information by five.”

“I’m not hanging around until five to find they’re sat on their backsides thinking they can afford to wait until the morning before getting in touch. Get on the phone. Tell them we need it pronto.”

“Yes, guv,” said Lydia.

“Any luck, Luke?” asked Gus.

“Byron’s match in the round of the last sixteen was this afternoon, guv. He won four frames to one. He won’t play his quarter-final until tomorrow evening. You should receive a phone call from him at his hotel in Antalya in fifteen minutes.”

“Excellent,” said Gus. “We might get one thing cleared up before we go home.”

Gus started keying in his notes from the interviews with Belinda and Sean Hogan.

“Divya apologises for the delay, guv, but one server has been down this morning,” said Lydia. “We should hear about Gerry’s girls by lunchtime tomorrow. However, the forensic accounting routines carried on