“To bed,” Peters replied. “I stayed at a lovely hotel nearby. A little bit outside of a regular police officer’s wage, I should imagine. Although, of course, I’m often surprised by the number of officers I meet in those places,” he smiled, intimating that he knew plenty of police who would be more than happy to keep him out of trouble.
“You’ll have to remember me to any you bump into next time.” Ray could happily play that sort of game with Peters.
“I will of course be sure to pass that on.”
“Let’s get back on track. What business do you have at the docks?”
Peters raised both eyebrows this time. “Hmm. Well, I’m sure that I have several products that go through London’s docks. I am of course in the import and export industry, although the details of what goes where is something handled by my logistics department and not me myself. I’m afraid you came to see the organ grinder, gentlemen. You need the monkeys for those sort of details.”
“Maybe we should come to your offices and have a look then?” Joseph offered.
“Yes, maybe,” Peters sounded bored and irritated now. “I have far more inclination to do that than I have fishing, which, whilst normally a pleasurable pastime, is something that you gentlemen are making quite tiresome.”
“You believe we’re fishing?” Ray asked.
“I’m not wearing a pair of those wonderfully archaic cuffs that you’re carrying, so yes, I believe fishing would be the word. Gentlemen, let me make this abundantly clear. I have no interest in the murder of your Mr Trainer. I may well have followed up on it, but if I did so, it was as a concerned citizen, with legitimate reason to be worried about security in the docks, due to my business there. I don’t think anyone can blame me, what with the recent importation of different faces to the workforce. It was only a matter of time before such savagery occurred. It is what they do. But I am not like them and I take great offence at the suggestion that I am. And so, on that note, detectives, I bid you farewell. I have far more pressing things to do on my weekend than play supposition with the likes of you.”
Joseph saw Ray tense again. But just as soon as it began to build, Ray exhaled and shook his head. “Thank you, Mr Peters,” he said. All they got in return was a dismissive waft of the hand, bidding them to leave.
*
Ray had tossed Joseph the car keys, much to his surprise, saying that he didn’t feel like driving. Joseph had nervously edged the car out and they had begun the drive back to the station the same way they had arrived. In total silence.
Joseph found his mind wandering back to the night before. That nagging feeling he’d got as they left. Something had happened in the back of his mind. A connection had formed, which hadn’t made its way to the part of his brain that could give it clarity yet. He thought again about the whole thing and none of it made sense. He still couldn’t think of a reason for Harry to lie.
“Do you think Peters is involved? I mean, really?” he asked Ray, who stared straight ahead out of the front of the car.
“I don’t know,” he admitted wearily. “He could be, but if he is, we’re probably never going to be able to prove it. We know that no one who truly knows what happened, if they’re linked to Peters, is going to rat him out. The man has a cast-iron alibi to boot.”
Joseph sighed. Ray was right. There was no way that Peters, even with his huge sway, would have been able to fabricate the opening of a club, and a newspaper report, featuring a room full of people…
Joseph swung the car left, crossing the opposite lane of traffic taking them away from the station and towards the docks.
“Ooh, you fizzer, what on earth was that?” Ray remarked, grabbing onto the dashboard as Joseph accelerated.
“I know what happened,” Joseph said.
35.
“Where the devil are we going?” Ray demanded as the car sped up.
Joseph’s knuckles gripped the wheel tightly. This wasn’t how he usually drove. He could barely believe it, but the moment had him now. He couldn’t escape the urge to prove what he suspected. It wasn’t true that he knew exactly what happened. The precise details were still sketchy. But he knew who, where and why now.
“We need to ask WPC Small to get on the radio to Cambridge,” he blurted out, trying his best to focus on the road ahead.
“Karen? She’s not in today, got a day off.”
“Whoever, then. Ask them to radio Cambridge station to get their hands on a newspaper from November 11th.”
“The one that Peters had? Why? Do you think he was trying to pull a fast one?”
“No. Quite the opposite in fact.”
“What on earth are you on about then?”
Joseph did his best to explain what he remembered. Ray looked dubious.
“Are you certain?” Ray asked.
“Yes.” It was a lie. Joseph was almost certain. But that seemed close enough.
“Then let’s get going.”
*
Ray radioed the station where another WPC had promised to phone Cambridge immediately and ask them to despatch a car to obtain the evidence and drive it straight to Woolwich. She had also provided them with the address that they were now heading to.
*
They pulled up at the house, Joseph leading the way as they exited the car and knocked on the door. Ray made no effort to take up his usual position at the front of their pairing. Either he was unsure of the veracity of Joseph’s deduction, or he was giving him his absolute backing.
“Bleedin’ hell, what now?” The door opened and Sara Queen looked at them, cigarette hanging from her mouth as before, but far less glamorously made up now. Her hair lay flat to her head and her face looked paler, as if she hadn’t had much sleep.
“Ms Queen, I’m arresting you on suspicion of aiding and abetting an offender,” Joseph began, before launching into her rights as Sara protested and complained.
“What are you on about?” she said when Joseph had finished reading her rights. “I ain’t assisted no offender.”
“Then where were you on the night of November 9th?” Joseph asked.
