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“Yes, you. You’ve admitted you couldn’t pay your taxi fare, so you let him have sex with you. You then found out you were pregnant. You admitted he wanted to see her once. That ended badly, and you lied in court for him. How do we know that he hasn’t been blackmailing you ever since, and you were at the end of your tether and decided to finally put an end to the matter?”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“How did you manage to keep it all from Gareth?” Gardener asked. “Are you telling me he’s never seen the birth certificate?”
Sally Summerby said nothing.
Reilly leaned forward. “What are you hiding now?”
“How could I let him see the certificate? I had to have a false one made.”
Reilly sat back and threw his hands in the air.
Gardener realized how deep and devious Sally Summerby was. He could quite well believe she would use her body for what she wanted. He was beginning to question every answer she gave, but still, he had no proof that she had done anything. And he knew very well from the CCTV footage of Morrison’s body being dumped that the offender was male. The time was fast approaching when he would have to let her go, pending further inquiries.
“Where did you get that made?” Reilly asked.
“The Internet.”
“What did you do with the original?”
“I gave it to Barry Morrison. He asked for proof, so I gave it to him. I told him he could keep it, and I didn’t want him bothering us again. I wanted him to leave us alone, to get on with our lives.”
Gardener wondered how she slept at night. “Okay, Mrs Summerby, that’s all for now.”
“Pardon?”
“I said, that’s all for now.”
“You mean I can go?”
“Don’t look so surprised. Someone has killed four people. You certainly had a motive for one of them. So did your husband. If you say that neither of you have done it, then I have to believe you for now and continue with my investigation. But when you’re back home this afternoon sitting with a coffee and your feet up, think about this: your daughter is still missing. Somewhere at the bottom of all this, apart from murdering people, someone has your daughter. Now it may be someone who has a grudge against all the people he’s killed, or it might be another reason altogether.”
Gardener stood up.
Chapter Fifty-two
Gardener was still sitting at the table in the interview room when Reilly returned from seeing Sally Summerby out. He sat down opposite and finished his tea.
“Christ! What a piece of work she is.”
“She has to be the most cold-hearted, calculating person I have ever met.”
“Do you think he knows about the daughter?” Reilly asked.
Gardener shook his head. “I really have no idea, Sean.”
“Can you imagine how you’d feel? You bring the child into the world, and for five years you love and care for it, and then you find out it’s not yours. Born-again Christian or not, it’s bound to tug at your heart strings.”
“You really don’t like them, do you?”
“No I do not. They’re full of shit. They’re the ones who have caused the most trouble in their lives, and then they expect God to forgive them and think everything will be fine when they go upstairs. Do they really think that St Peter is just going to open the gate and welcome them in? Even the ones who have committed murder and then claimed they found the good Lord in prison. I don’t think so, somehow.”
Gardener thought about that. “So, we have one of three options. Either he genuinely doesn’t know. Or he’s found out and turned the other cheek.”
“Or he’s found out and flipped. The girl hasn’t been kidnapped, but holed up somewhere. Only he knows where. Then he’s gone out and disposed of Morrison.”
“It’s one thing to slaughter animals, but quite another to dispose of a human being. What does he intend to do with Chloe? And where is she?”
