‘Dwayne’s the sidekick of Joshua Richards, a drug dealer also known as Big Daddy,’ Gibbs said.
O’Duncie looked nervous, especially at the mention of Richards.
‘Never heard of a Joshua or Big Daddy, but I think the guy Dwayne might have stayed at the squat a while back. I helped him off drugs and I heard he’d turned his life round and started a legit window-cleaning business.’
Gibbs was going to press the matter but Bradfield raised his hand indicating not to bother. The fact O’Duncie knew Dwayne gave him a connection to Big Daddy and he decided to scare O’Duncie with a few lies.
‘You didn’t know we nicked Dwayne, did you? How else do you think we knew about the Primrose Hill address and where the drugs and cash were hidden?’
O’Duncie didn’t answer but Bradfield could see the look on his face was a mixture of anger and uncertainty.
‘Dwayne reckoned you got Julie Ann up the duff and she tried to get money off you for an abortion but you told her to fuck off.’
‘What? Eh? If he did say anything, which I doubt, then he’s lying. So I knows both dem kids, no big deal as I didn’t kill ’em and you got no evidence I did,’ O’Duncie said arrogantly.
Bradfield knew he was still unsure about what was or was not the truth and trying to front out his predicament.
‘Eddie Phillips told you we were asking about Julie Ann, and worried he’d grass you up, you had to kill him, didn’t you?’
‘No way. The kid may have been to the house but I never met or spoke to him,’ O’Duncie said firmly.
Bradfield asked who did speak to Eddie and O’Duncie said he’d heard from one of the squatters that, while he was away, Eddie had turned up and nicked some of the squatters’ gear. He said they also told him that Eddie had jacked up some heroin down by the Regent’s Canal, fallen in and drowned. O’Duncie was adamant he didn’t know any more. He fell silent before saying he would like to speak with a solicitor and have his money back, which he’d made from legitimate renting.
Bradfield knew he didn’t have enough to charge him with any murders, but there was no way he was going to let a scumbag like O’Duncie back out on the streets.
‘You’re going nowhere tonight, Terry. You can have a night in the cells on the taxpayer. It will give you plenty of time to think about your situation, and how telling us the truth will be better for you. And remember, you’re bang to rights for the drugs. Question is whether I charge you with straight possession or the more serious possession with intent to supply, but that depends on how helpful you are.’
‘Come on, man, cut me some slack and give me bail. I’ll turn up at court, I won’t do a runner and I’ll even put some of the cash in the police widows’ and orphans’ fund.’
‘You’re not getting bail or the money back at present. Julie Ann nicked a load of money before she was murdered and guess what, it wasn’t on her when we found the body.’
‘Jesus Christ, how many times I gotta say I ain’t killed no one and I don’t know anythin’ about her money.’
‘That’s because she may not have told you she nicked it from her dad. Thing is though, sunshine, she didn’t know the banknotes had sequential serial numbers on them, which means neither did you.’ Bradfield paused to let O’Duncie take in what he’d just said and he could see he was becoming nervous.
‘I’ve already got someone checking through the serial numbers of the notes we found in your bedroom, and I will have them all checked for Julie Ann’s, her father’s and Eddie Phillips’ prints. If there is one dab on any one of them that matches yours, you’re screwed.’
Bradfield could see O’Duncie was thinking hard to come up with a suitable answer.
‘One of the squatters collects cash from the other residents for food and drink and gives it to me and I hid it in the wardrobe. We’re a commune so we share things.’
‘Just like you shared Julie Ann round for sex,’ Gibbs remarked.
‘I want that money back cos I got bills to pay.’
Bradfield leered. ‘More like you’ve got
Jane had called Social Services and was now sitting in the incident room with the stack of banknotes heaped on the desk. DC Edwards was typing up his report and looked over to her.
‘What are you doing?’
Jane had taken a pair of tweezers from her handbag and was painstakingly lifting one note after another.
‘I’ve got to count all this seized money and I’m worried about leaving my prints on the notes.’
‘If you got bundles in the same denomination just list the serial numbers first.’
‘But I’ve also got to count that big bag of coins.’
‘Rather you than me.’ He turned back to his report.
Kath popped her head round the door.
