The Death Messenger (Matthew Ryan Book 2)(114)

She didn’t flinch.

‘We also found, within the chat room, a conversation between Spencer and a woman calling herself brokenkiss. This is a complicated one, so listen carefully. The woman calling herself brokenkiss claimed that her father went to see a solicitor in order to stop his wife from having a second child.’ Ryan switched focus to Sophia’s legal counsel. ‘To make this absolutely clear, the child she was referring to was Mark Montgomery, Sophia’s late brother.’ Ryan was back with the accused. ‘But you know that, don’t you, Sophia, because you are brokenkiss.’ He paused for a response and got nothing in return. ‘I’m getting there, I promise you. This lawyer didn’t manage to swing a court order, despite being smart enough to eventually become Scotland’s second highest judge, Lord Trevathan, whose body we found floating in the River Tay on December ninth. How am I doing?’

Montgomery didn’t nod or shake her head. She didn’t appear stressed or worried. No body language of any kind on display. She was far too cool a customer for that.

O’Neil glanced at him: Must try harder.

‘You moved his body from the folly at huge risk. I can see why you did it. It’s such a popular beauty spot and you didn’t want anyone to find him before Police Scotland received your DVD. That wasn’t part of your plan, was it? Your message was more important than the individuals concerned. I know this, because most killers dispose of victims to get rid of evidence. The body is, after all, a silent witness. You did the opposite. I have a theory about that. I think you see yourself as someone with right on her side, someone with a serious point to make – isn’t that your endgame, Sophia? To make us all sit up and take notice. To send a clear message that you would and have been punishing those with an opposing point of view, blaming them for not supporting your cause. You said as much on the footage you sent. They deserved it, were the words you used in one form or another, to justify your actions.’

‘My client doesn’t speak,’ the brief said. ‘How could she possibly have told you that?’

‘With respect, we all know that her mutism is discriminatory.’ Ryan eyeballed his suspect. ‘You may as well admit it, Sophia. We have video evidence of you talking to Spencer prior to your stop and arrest on the A1. Some of the vehicles that passed you in the outside lane were ours, a covert unit doing a job on you. You’re not the only one with a plan. Before pulling you over, firearms officers saw and heard you yelling at Spencer to put his foot down. But I’ll come on to that later . . .’

Montgomery feigned boredom.

‘Do you have anything to say?’

She remained silent.

‘Do you really think the people you killed were in the wrong? If so, you should think again. It certainly wasn’t so in the case of Mr Tierney. Remember him? Nice man on the end of the line the night you threatened to throw yourself under a London tube train. He offered to help, didn’t he? But nothing came of it. Michael Tierney didn’t deserve to die, Sophia. In fact, he was so shaken by your call, he resigned his post that very night. Of course, you didn’t know that he’d referred you on to Social Services. Why should you? His email’ – Ryan pushed a sheet of paper across the table – ‘was never acted upon. It wasn’t his fault, Sophia. He did everything he could for you. I want you to go to prison knowing that.’

She was like ice, nothing touching her.

‘Let’s move on to Laura Stone, then. She didn’t like Mark, did she? She wouldn’t sign him up for her documentary, and you killed her for denying him a voice. Do you think he’s at peace now because of it? I doubt that very much. I suspect he found out that you were using his computer. He may have been angry not to get his fifteen minutes of fame on TV, but I suspect he got over it. What he couldn’t bear to live with was the guilt of what you were doing. Isn’t that right? I suspect that’s why he rocked himself off.’

The solicitor peered over the top of his specs. ‘Evidence, DS Ryan.’

Ryan handed him the post-mortem report without interrupting his flow. ‘For the purposes of the tape I am showing Sophia Montgomery and her solicitor a post-mortem report on Mark Montgomery.’

Sophia shifted in her seat – she wasn’t expecting that.

Unable to help herself, O’Neil joined in. ‘DS Ryan is a clever detective, Sophia. Remember James Fraser, the nurse you killed in Whitley Bay. He didn’t deserve it either, did he? DS Ryan was the one who worked out that he was an innocent bystander, a nurse who happened to jog past your kill site at the wrong moment and was killed for it. At first, DS Ryan was prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt on that one, because even he couldn’t believe that you were callous enough to kill a man who hadn’t hurt you in some way. You’ve left his mother a broken woman. The only thing DS Ryan failed to spot in this whole affair was the assumption that your co-accused was ill, until we realised that he’s just a drugged-up little thug who likes hurting people. I have to hand it to you: keeping him supplied was a great control mechanism. Where did you keep his stash?’

Sophia crossed her legs and let out a bored sigh.

‘Carry on, DS Ryan.’

‘We searched your house,’ Ryan said. ‘Nice place. I know exactly where you were standing when you called me on Saturday the twenty-first of December, when you told me to call you Marge.’ Ryan held up the evidence bag containing the Simpsons mouse pad.