‘I can’t bloody win, can I? All right, on Tuesday night I did some cars over at Forest View – I got a CD player from one and a couple of cassette players from the others.’
‘What about Sunday?’
‘I did a house in Appleford Court. Got away with around £80. Then I tried a car round the back but the flaming alarm went off.’
Frost nodded. He knew about the Appleford Court burglary and he’d check on the cars. But this was Sunday night. Mary Haynes was killed in the afternoon. ‘What about Sunday afternoon?’
‘I stayed in. I had it away with Belle.’
‘Let’s say that took a minute – half a minute if you kept your boots on. What did you do with the rest of the time?’
‘I stayed in until six – Belle will vouch for me.’
Frost gave a snort. ‘She’s as big a liar as you are. You’ve got no alibi for the time of the killing, and we’ve found a pair of your jeans soaked in blood.’
‘That was my blood, Mr Frost . . .’ Wally was almost in tears. ‘You’ve got to believe me.’
‘The court has got to believe you, Wally, not me.’ Frost scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘Feel like doing a deal?’
Manson regarded Frost warily. ‘What sort of a deal?’
‘A bloody good one, Wally. We’ve got a whole stack of outstanding burglaries and car thefts on file. I want you to cough to every single one that’s down to you . . .’
‘Now hold on, Mr Frost,’ Manson protested.
‘Do yourself a favour and listen, Wally. Whatever sentences you get will run concurrently: one burglary or a hundred, you won’t even feel it. In return, I’m prepared to tell the court how helpful you’ve been and to recommend to the DPP that we accept your plea of manslaughter in the case of Alice Ryder. To help you make up your mind, if you say no, we’re going for murder.’
Manson chewed at his finger while he thought this over. ‘What about them two?’ He pointed to the photographs on the table.
‘Call me a sentimental old sod, Wally, but providing nothing happens to make me change my mind, I’m prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt over them two.’
Wally sighed. ‘All right, Mr Frost. You win.’
‘Good boy,’ smiled Frost, scooping the photographs back into the file and standing.
Behind the prisoner, Gilmore’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. The inspector had given almost nothing away – the DPP would probably have settled for manslaughter anyway – and in return a whole stack of outstandings would be cleared in one go and Denton’s ‘Crime Return’ would start looking healthy again. Anxious to share the undoubted credit this would accrue, he dropped into Frost’s vacated chair, ready to start taking Manson’s statements. His scowl deepened when Frost informed him that the little fat slob, Hanlon, would be taking over from now and it was with the greatest reluctance he vacated the chair.
At the door, Frost stopped and smote his forehead with his palm. He had almost forgotten the videos. ‘Where did you get them?’
Wally hung his head. ‘I nicked them from a car. Wouldn’t have touched them had I known what they were like. Blimey, I like a bit of the old sex and violence as much as the next man, but I draw the line at dogs . . . they may be man’s best friend, but that one was being too bloody friendly.’
‘Details, Wally.’
‘I’m driving in the van the Saturday night before last, about ten o’clock, and I spots this big flash motor parked round the back of the Market Square.’
‘What sort of car?’ Gilmore asked. ‘What make?’
‘I don’t know. An expensive motor, all gleaming. Black, I think . . . the seats looked like real leather. Anyway, I wasn’t there to admire it. I jemmied open the boot, grabbed this box and I’m back in my van before anyone spots me.’
Frost prodded Manson for more details, but there was nothing else he could tell them, only that it was an expensive set of wheels.
Outside in the corridor, Gilmore’s anger boiled over. ‘You’re letting Hanlon take his statement? We get a confession on the Ryder murder and Manson is going to cough on all his other jobs. We do all the work and you’re going to let Hanlon take all the credit!’
‘I can’t be sodded about with all that paperwork,’ said Frost. ‘We’ve got enough on our plates without having to take yards and yards of statement down.’ He yawned. ‘I