Hope to Die

I look up. ‘That’s because we have a hell of a lot of blanks to fill in first. The next time we sit down with Richard Swann I want us to know as much about this crime as he does.’

‘So as at now,’ says Gis, ‘Swann’s been sent back to the cells while we try to work out what the heck we’re dealing with here.’

‘Speaking of which,’ says Quinn, holding up the handout, ‘everyone’s favourite subject: forensics.’

There’s a rustle of activity as people turn to the right page.

‘We knew Swann must have washed and changed his clothes before Uniform got there, so surprise, surprise, there was no gunshot residue on his hands. The PJs we dug out of the washing machine didn’t yield anything either. Not even any residual blood.’

Gis gives a wry grin. ‘Guess those stain-remover things actually do what they say on the tin. Who knew, eh?’

Subdued laughter. I don’t think Gis is actively trying to piss Quinn off, but he seems to be managing it all the same.

‘Far more significant,’ says Quinn, raising his voice a little, ‘the knife. The blood on the blade was Swann’s, but there was also blood on the handle – blood that came from two, repeat two, different sources – both Richard Swann and the victim. And given the vic still had his hand round the knife when we found it, there’s only one way that could have got there –’

‘They faked it,’ says Hansen, almost too quickly. ‘To make us think Swann had been attacked.’ And now he’s looking awkward, either because he doesn’t want to look like a swot, or didn’t mean to cut across a DS. And especially not this DS.

‘Right,’ says Quinn, staring at him.

‘But what about a previous injury?’ Carter again. Who clearly has no problem looking like a swot. I’m guessing this must happen around him a lot because a couple of people are suppressing smiles. ‘Before the gunshot?’

Quinn frowns. ‘Like what, exactly?’

Gis is shaking his head. ‘There was nothing on the body, according to the PM. No injuries at all, not even bruising. And no defensive or other injuries on the hands that could have caused any sort of bleeding.’

Carter frowns. ‘But it could have been a head wound – before the shot, I mean. We can’t exactly check for that now, can we.’

Quinn snorts. ‘What sort of head wound? You think Swann gave him a clip round the ear and then asked him to hang on a minute while he got his gun? “Hold my beer while I nip down to the cellar?”’

Gis cuts across him because Carter’s gone very red. ‘OK, Carter, it was a good point and you’re right that we need to be careful not to get blinkered in a situation like this, but I tend to agree with DS Quinn: it’s pretty unlikely. Especially given what else Boddie found.’ He nods again to Quinn, who holds up the next sheet of paper.

‘The PM report,’ he says. ‘Most important thing to note here is that the vic was left-handed. And as you can see,’ he says, gesturing back at the photos on the whiteboard, ‘the knife was found in his right hand. Proof, if anyone still needs it,’ a pointed glance at Carter, ‘that the Swanns staged that scene. Swann cut himself, then put that knife in the vic’s hand after he was dead so we’d find his prints on it. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t all we found.’

‘So,’ says Gis. ‘To sum up – right now everything is pointing to the victim never having broken into that house at all. That whatever this was, it wasn’t a burglary.’

Chloe Sargent is clearly still processing all this. ‘So the Swanns faked the break-in as well?’

Ev turns to her. ‘Clive Conway said the damage to the back door was pretty basic. Anyone could have done it. And there was no screwdriver or anything like that in the victim’s pockets. In fact, there was nothing in his pockets, period.’

‘It’s probably all in that black placky bag,’ says another DC, to murmurs of agreement.

Gis smiles. ‘Yeah, well, Barnetson is on the case on that, so watch this space.’

Baxter now. ‘So the knife wasn’t the vic’s either – is that what we’re saying?’

Ev gestures at the picture on the whiteboard. ‘That looks more like something from a kitchen drawer.’

The implication is clear.

Hansen looks up. ‘I checked that, actually. The Swanns have only one set of matching knives – some heavy old-fashioned things in the dining room, obviously kept for “best”. The cutlery in the kitchen was just a mishmash of different stuff. That knife could easily have been one of theirs – trouble is, we’ll never be able to prove it.’

But Baxter isn’t convinced, not yet. ‘We’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves, though, aren’t we? Even if he wasn’t a burglar, doesn’t mean it wasn’t self-defence. There could have been an argument – Swann’s a stroppy old git – he loses his rag, next thing you know – bam –’

‘So why not admit straight up that that’s what happened?’ says Hansen. ‘Did he think we wouldn’t believe him?’