The Infirmary (DCI Ryan Mysteries prequel)(58)

It didn’t bear thinking about.

“Detective Constable Jack Lowerson and Detective Inspector Denise MacKenzie entering Interview Room C at”—Lowerson checked the time for the recording—“seven minutes past nine a.m. on Wednesday, 9th July 2014. Others present are William Cooper and his solicitor, Janet Smeaton. If you could please state your names for the record.”

He waited while they did so, recited the standard caution and then shuffled his papers to find the list of questions he wanted to cover.

He couldn’t find it.

MacKenzie’s face betrayed nothing at all as she continued to watch Cooper, thinking that Lowerson’s tactic of drawing things out seemed to be working because the man’s forehead was already showing signs of a light sweat.

“Uh, thank you for coming in voluntarily, Mr Cooper,” Lowerson began, a bit awkwardly.

“My client would like it noted for the record that he is here of his own volition to assist the police with their enquiries into the death of his mother, a decorated Chief Inspector—”

“We all knew Sharon,” MacKenzie interrupted, in a low tone. “We knew what a wonderful person she was. That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it, Will?”

He shifted uncomfortably beneath her penetrating green gaze.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good, I’m glad we’re all on the same page,” Lowerson said. “Mr Cooper, I’d like to start by asking you about your relationship with your mum.”

Cooper shrugged.

“Same as most sons and mothers, I would guess. She nagged me, and I sometimes listened, sometimes didn’t.”

He smirked, clearly pleased with the answer he’d given.

“Same here,” Lowerson said, easily enough. “You must have been devastated when you heard the news of her death?”

“I thought it was a joke, at first. I thought it was somebody prank-calling me from the office. I didn’t believe it was true.”

His smile slipped, and he looked at his own reflection in the glass behind Lowerson’s head.

“Why did you tell DCI Ryan during a conversation on Monday 7th July and with your grandmother, Eileen Spruce, present, that you hadn’t seen your mother in a couple of weeks?”

The solicitor opened her mouth to say something about his overwhelming grief, but Cooper overrode it.

“I already told you and the sergeant—Phillips. I was embarrassed because we’d argued the night before she died, and I thought it looked bad. I panicked, okay?”

“Do you also remember telling us that you’d argued over the fact your mother refused to provide a false statement to your supervisor at the Dental Hospital, regarding your current suspension for alleged drugs offences?”

The solicitor leaned in to whisper something in Cooper’s ear.

“We argued about my suspension, but I would like it noted for the record that the investigation has not proven any of those alleged misdemeanours and no report has been made to the police.”

“Is that because your mum took care of it?” Lowerson shot back.

Cooper’s face reddened but he said nothing.

“Should charges be brought, the court may be entitled to draw adverse inferences regarding your refusal to answer these questions,” MacKenzie said.

Cooper looked sharply at his solicitor, who could do little to argue with the truth of it.

“Are you intending to bring charges against my client?” she asked. “If so, this interview will terminate.”

“That all depends on Will,” Lowerson said, reverting to first name terms. “Y’ know, Will, most people who peddle drugs don’t think about where those drugs end up. They just think about the cash in hand and what it can buy them. That’s a nice suit, by the way,” he threw in, and watched the solicitor rear up again.

“Are you suggesting that my client has used proceeds of crime to purchase his suit?”

“Did I give that impression? My apologies,” Lowerson said. “I thought I was complimenting his tailoring.”

“Let me sketch a hypothetical scenario for you, Will,” MacKenzie said, leaning forward. “In this scenario, we have a high-achieving young man who’s studying…let’s say veterinary science.”

Cooper rolled his eyes.

“At the university, he meets somebody—maybe more than one person—who tells him he can afford a few of the finer things in life if he nicks some drugs from the pharmacy or carries them from one place to the next. You know, like pass the parcel,” she drawled.

Cooper shifted in his seat again and they could smell his body odour wafting across the table.

“The thing is, this bloke didn’t know what he was really getting himself into.” Lowerson picked up the storyline like a pro. “When he wants to stop, he starts getting threats and maybe somebody roughs him up a bit on his way home or”—and this came to Lowerson in a sudden burst of inspiration—“or maybe, they threaten to hurt his mum.”

Cooper raised his eyes and they were dark pools of misery.

“That’s it, isn’t it, Will? MacKenzie said gently. “Did they threaten your mum?”

“He said he’d kill her and make it look accidental,” he whispered and then, to their collective dismay, burst into tears. “It’s my fault she’s dead.”