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Sixty-One Nails Part 82

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"Maybe that stuff made him crazy."

"Can you think of any reason that Mr Fontner would want to harm you?"

"Maybe he wasn't himself?"

"Do you know what the substance is, on the walls and ceiling of your flat, Mr Petersen?"

"It smelled like some sort of mould." I was dancing around the questions.



"It's mildew. Plain ordinary mildew. We've had it a.n.a.lysed. We had the lab drop everything so we could get early identification of the substance."

"Mildew doesn't do that, does it?" I asked.

"We have a number of theories, Mr Petersen. None of them are very satisfactory. Did you paint your walls with anything unusual?"

"No."

"Have you had any strange substances in your flat?"

"No."

"Was there mildew in it before?"

"No. It was freshly decorated before I moved in. I've only been there a year."

"We have a forensic team looking at your flat. They will find evidence if there have been drugs in the house. Is there anything you want to tell us now? "

"No. I don't use drugs. There's nothing for them to find."

He watched me for a long moment, a.s.sessing my reaction. "They tell me that you were dragged from the river, barely alive. How did you come to be in the Thames, Mr Petersen?"

"I don't remember being in the Thames," I told him, schooling my face. The river I had almost drowned in was the Fleet, not the Thames.

"Did someone throw you in?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then what were you doing in the river? "

"Drowning?"

He smiled slightly. "People don't normally go swimming in the Thames. If there is something you have become involved in that's got out of control, then maybe we can help."

"I haven't done anything wrong," I told him. "I haven't broken any law."

"You don't always have to break the law to end up out of your depth, Mr Petersen. The police are here to protect the citizens from harm and to keep the Queen's peace. If you are being threatened or intimidated...? "

"No one is threatening me." They weren't. Not now. "Understand that you can talk to us if there's a problem. We may be able to help. "

"Thanks, but I think I'm OK."

He paused for a moment, thinking, then stood up and picked up the tape deck. "Interview ends at..." He checked his watch and recited the time and date. Then he handed the recorder to DS Vincent.

"If you could get a transcript typed up for me for tomorrow, I can go through it with DI Tindall in the morning."

"Yes, sir."

"And you could find the constable who was keeping an eye on Mr Petersen for us and let him know he can go home."

"You're not going to arrest me then?" I asked.

"The police are not in the habit of prosecuting witnesses, Mr Petersen. We would like you to come down to the station and sign a copy of your statement, but apart from that we won't be needing anything else from you, unless there's something more you would like to tell us? "

"No. There's nothing else."

"Very well." He waited while DS Vincent gathered up his notebook and tape recorder and went in search of the constable.

"Do you play golf, Mr Petersen?"

"Golf? No, why?"

"The head of the CPS plays golf."

"CPS?".

"The Crown Prosecution Service. The people for whom we must gather the evidence and to whom we must make our case. The head of the CPS is responsible for deciding who gets prosecuted and who does not. "

"And he plays golf?"

"Apparently he plays with some of the Queen's Bench Division at the Royal Courts of Justice. I believe you are acquainted with one of the masters there, by the name of Checkland?"

"Yes. We met quite recently." Was this another interview, without the recorder this time?

"I just wanted you to know. If I find out that you were in any way responsible for the death of one of my officers, it won't matter who you know or what favours you are owed. Do I make myself clear?" I took a deep breath. "Yes. I understand."

"Good morning, Mr Petersen." He quietly pulled the door closed behind him.

After a minute or two, Blackbird reappeared. She was not alone.

"Daddy!" Alex threw herself onto the bed, wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me fiercely. "Careful, darling, he's still not well." Katherine, a few steps behind our daughter, was being Mum. "Sorry, she's been dying to come in here ever since she first heard you'd woken." She tried to ease Alex from around my neck.

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