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Authors: James Raven

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BOOK: Random Targets
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T
HE INCIDENT ROOM
was positively bursting at the seams by the time Temple got there. There was a constant trilling of telephones and a barking of orders; he only recognized half the faces. They’d been drafted in from all over Hampshire. He’d called ahead to tell them he wanted a full briefing before he began interrogating Martin Renner.

The restless chatter died down as soon as he called for quiet. He gave a brief summary of the M4 attack and the interview with Hussain, then told them about the conversation he’d just had with Vickery.

‘I’ll update you when I know more,’ he said. ‘Meanwhile we’ve got our hands full at this end with Martin Renner. So before we grill him I want status reports on everything.’

A SOCO named James Frost was first up. He said that Renner’s motorbike was now at the lab being examined. Various sets of prints had turned up on it and these were now being processed. They needed to eliminate those given by the lad who tried to steal the bike.

‘The latest information from Renner’s flat is that nothing much of interest has been found there,’ he said. ‘No weapon, no ammunition, no maps of motorways. We’re still checking over his clothes and shoes, but I can confirm there was no gun residue on his hands, which doesn’t mean he didn’t fire a rifle. He probably wore gloves.’

‘Anything from the team on the M4?’ Temple asked.

‘I had a conversation with one of the officers there an hour ago,’ Frost said. ‘Shells similar to those found at the other scenes have been discovered on the embankment. And it’s believed the paint used for the message under the bridge is also a match. So no surprises there.’

‘And the BMW stolen from the motorway?’

‘It’s been towed to the lab, but I’m told the steering wheel and door handles have been wiped clean of prints. So I wouldn’t expect much to come of it.’

Next up was DC Marsh, who had also just returned from Renner’s flat above the shop in Romsey. She looked tired and her skin seemed grey and somehow shrunken. She began by confirming what Frost had said about the lack of forensic evidence at the flat.

‘We’ve found nothing that links him to the shootings,’ she said. ‘And neighbours say they’ve never seen him riding a motorbike. They didn’t even know he had one.’

‘Has anyone spoken to him this morning?’ Temple asked.

‘I popped down to see if he was awake when I got back,’ she said. ‘He’s just been given some breakfast and he’s moaning that he’s got a hangover.’

‘What a fucking shame,’ someone piped up.

‘You told me not to start questioning him about the shootings so I said he was brought in for being drunk and disorderly in a public place,’ she said. ‘I also asked him where he spent most of last evening.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He reckons he was at a pub in Romsey. The Green Man. I’ve spoken by phone to the landlord. He knows Renner and confirms he was there. But he didn’t arrive until after nine o’clock, which would have given him plenty of time to get from the M4 to Southampton.’

‘What else did the landlord say?’ Temple asked.

‘He said Renner was already inebriated when he turned up. He sat at a table by himself drinking spirits until closing time. When he left the pub he was plastered.’

‘And what time was that?’

‘Eleven.’

‘But he didn’t turn up at his flat until around midnight.’

‘Renner says he lost his way after leaving the pub. And maybe that’s not surprising if he was in such a state.’

DS Vaughan then explained that the layby where the BMW was found was close to a built-up area, but not covered by CCTV. Vaughan then went on to say that there was still no sign of Martin Renner’s son Cole.

‘He told his squaddie friend Ryan Addison that he was living
in Southampton and renting from a pregnant landlady,’ Vaughan said. ‘We’ve been trawling estate agents but so far no joy.’

Temple asked if there was any news on the stolen car that was captured on the CCTV camera close to the scene of the first attack on the M27. He was told that it still hadn’t turned up and neither had the hooded man who’d been driving it.

‘Could that guy have been Martin Renner?’ someone asked.

Temple nodded. ‘Renner senior is about the same height and has the same build, but then so does his son apparently.’

There were a few more status reports and then Beresford updated everyone on the wider picture. He mentioned the multimillion pound reward and said the task force hotline in London had been inundated with so many calls that more operators had been brought in to help.

He said a ten-mile section of the M4 was still closed and there was traffic chaos on roads in the area. The pressure to catch the sniper was growing by the minute and politicians were critical of the police for letting him slip away.

‘The impact is being felt across the whole country and not just in London and the South,’ Beresford said. ‘People are genuinely afraid to drive on motorways, even outside the rush hours. Police forces are trying to maintain a high profile with traffic patrols and helicopters, but it’s a real struggle on current levels of manpower and resources. If the man we’ve apprehended turns out not to be the sniper then I dread to think how bad it’s going to get.’

Temple wound up the meeting and asked Vaughan to join him for the interview. The pair were about to head out of the office when DC Marsh suddenly drew everyone’s attention to one of the office televisions.

Temple stopped and looked up at the wall-mounted screen. A news reader was reporting on a breaking story. She was saying that there had been an explosion in a church cemetery near Catford in South London – the same church where a memorial service was being held for a police officer who’d been gunned down by terrorists a year ago.

And, according to initial reports, there were casualties.

T
EMPLE’S HEART THUMPED
like a Zulu drum. He pulled out his mobile and called Vickery, but his call went straight through to voicemail.

Several other detectives grabbed desk phones and within two minutes they learned that a bomb had gone off in the grounds of St Mary’s church, but it was too early for details. Ambulances had been called to the scene and the local hospital alerted. But no one knew how many people had been hurt or whether anyone had been killed.

Temple was tempted to hold off on interviewing Renner until he knew more, but Beresford persuaded him not to.

‘Whatever has happened, there’s nothing you can do about it,’ Beresford said. ‘So crack on with Renner and I’ll keep you informed of what’s happening.’

Temple didn’t argue. Beresford was right. He couldn’t do anything and however bad the news was it could wait.

He and Vaughan hurried along to the interview room where Martin Renner was waiting for them with the duty solicitor, a decent enough brief named Paul Sweeney who looked stiff and formal in a suit and tie.

Temple was shocked by the sight of Renner who was wearing pristine white overalls because his clothes were being tested. He seemed to have aged several years since yesterday at his flat. His face was lined and gaunt. He had a lean, grizzled expression and his eyes were sunken with tiredness and dehydration. He sat slumped in the chair, his hands resting unnaturally on the table in front of him.

As Temple sat down he had a brief mental snapshot of the man crouching behind a bush on a motorway whilst aiming a rifle at the traffic. It sent his pulse soaring.

‘What the fuck is going on?’ Renner yelled. ‘Why am I still here? All I did was get pissed.’

The lawyer leaned sideways to whisper in his ear, but Renner ignored him and gave Temple a hard stare.

‘I want my clothes back and I want a fucking explanation,’ he said.

‘Before we begin I have to make it clear that you are under caution,’ Temple said. ‘That means you do not have to say anything unless you wish to do so. However, it may harm your defence if you fail to mention when questioned something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’

Renner turned to his lawyer and blood vessels in his cheeks flushed, looking ready to erupt.

‘You told me this was about being drunk and disorderly,’ he said. ‘But that’s bollocks. What haven’t I been told?’

‘You’re here because we have reason to believe that you’ve carried out a series of random murders,’ Temple said matter-of-factly.

Renner’s shoulders went stiff and his jaw dropped. He turned slowly to face Temple again and deep creases appeared in his forehead.

‘What are you on about?’ he muttered.

Temple ignored the question and said, ‘Where were you last night, Mr Renner?’

Renner looked genuinely confused. He blinked hard several times and balled his fists on the table.

‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’

‘Just answer the question, Mr Renner. Tell me where you were last night before you arrived at The Green Man pub. We know from the landlord that you got there at about nine.’

Renner ran his tongue around his mouth and shook his head.

‘I don’t believe this. Who am I supposed to have murdered?’

‘The question, Mr Renner,’ Temple persisted. ‘Please answer it and then we can move on.’

Renner swallowed hard and started drumming his fingers nervously on the table.

‘I was at home,’ he said. ‘In my flat minding my own business.’

‘Did you leave the flat at any point after our chat at lunchtime?’

‘No I didn’t. I was upset over what you told me about Cole. I started drinking. When I ran out of booze I went to the pub. I left the pub after it closed and came home. That’s when your lot pounced.’

‘So can someone verify that you stayed in your flat all afternoon and into the evening?’

‘’course not. I live by myself and you were the only person who came to the flat yesterday.’

Temple was silent for several seconds as he studied the man before him. Renner’s face was now spangled with sweat that had seeped from his pores and was giving off an unpleasant odour.

‘I think you should get to the point,’ the lawyer said, breaking his silence. ‘You should explain to Mr Renner exactly why he’s here. It’s obviously not because he was drunk in the street.’

Temple nodded. ‘Well, let’s start with him explaining to us how he managed to be in two places at the same time.’

‘What do you mean?’ Renner barked.

‘Well, how could you have been in your flat if you were hiding on an embankment on the M4 motorway armed with a rifle?’

Renner’s eyes popped out as though on stalks.

‘You can’t be fucking serious,’ he said. ‘You’re actually accusing me of being the sniper? Jesus, are you insane?’

‘We know you were there,’ Temple said. ‘And we know that you shot down the police helicopter.’

Renner made slits of his eyes and leaned across the table.

‘You’ve got this badly wrong,’ he said. ‘You’re confusing me with Cole. He’s the one who has the rifle. I told you that yesterday. Why are you accusing me?’

‘Because it was your motorbike that we found at the scene,’ Temple said. ‘As you know, it was stolen from where you left it, which is why you had to nick a car to get away from there. But the person who stole it dumped it at the side of the road. It’s now in our lab undergoing forensic tests.’

Renner sat back and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

‘So that’s it?’ he said. ‘You think I’m the sniper because you found a motorbike?’


Your
motorbike, Mr Renner. Records show that you’ve owned it for the past three years.’

‘That’s correct,’ he said. ‘But six months ago I gave it to Cole. I haven’t seen it since then.’

‘It’s still in your name,’ Temple pointed out.

‘Only because I haven’t got around to sorting the paperwork.’

‘Can you prove that?’

‘Well, you can ask my wife if you like. She’ll tell you. She was the one who told me to give him the bike because I hadn’t used it in ages.’

Temple and Vaughan exchanged looks. This was something they hadn’t expected.

‘I swear I’m telling the truth,’ Renner said. ‘It wasn’t me on the M4 last night. I was in my flat before going to the pub. It must have been Cole.’

‘So maybe you’re both involved,’ Temple said. ‘A father and son double-act. Two battle-scarred ex-servicemen who’ve decided to let loose a terrible rage against society.’

‘Don’t be fucking ridiculous,’ Renner said. ‘Cole may well have cracked and his default position might be to kill but I’m just a pathetic drunk who’s screwed up his life. I don’t blame anyone but myself and if you check my army record you’ll find that I never actually took anyone’s life. And I never wanted to.’

Temple felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. As much as he hated to admit it he was beginning to think that perhaps Renner was telling the truth. There was nothing in his body language to suggest he was lying. And he seemed pretty sure that his embittered wife would back up his claim about the motorbike.

‘Do you intend to charge Mr Renner with any offences?’ the lawyer said. ‘Because if not then I think you should return his clothes and release him. He’s answered all your questions and has told you that he was at home when the shootings took place.’

‘He’s going nowhere for the time being,’ Temple said. ‘We’ll talk to his wife and wait for the results of the forensic tests on his flat and clothes. And meanwhile we also want to know if he has alibis for the times the other motorway attacks took place.’

‘I was either at home or walking around the town,’ Renner said. ‘I’ve got fuck all else to do since the wife chucked me out and I don’t have any money or friends.’

‘So the answer to my question is that you don’t have alibis for any evening this week,’ Temple said. ‘That’s a pity, Mr Renner.’

‘Oh, come off it, copper,’ Renner said. ‘This is total bullshit. You’ve got the wrong man and you know it.’

Temple decided to suspend the interview. He felt certain that Renner wasn’t about to change his story.

‘We’ll talk again in a while,’ Temple said. ‘You’ll be held in one of the cells until then and you’re free to retain the services of Mr Sweeney here or get your own lawyer.’

Renner started to object, but Temple ignored him and hurried out of the room with DS Vaughan in tow. In the corridor he told Vaughan to send someone to speak to Renner’s wife and chase up the forensic evidence.

‘My gut tells me he’s telling the truth, but I want to be sure of it,’ he said. ‘Meanwhile we need to step up our efforts to find his son. If Cole Renner is the sniper – and it’s what I’ve thought all along – then he’s probably planning another attack this evening.’

BOOK: Random Targets
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