AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Okay,” I said. “But honestly, I think you’re being neurotic.”
“I really don’t think I am, Jack. I don’t want to be brutal about this, but there’s a reason they always suspect spouses. You’ve got means, and you’ve got opportunity. The only thing they’re lacking to make a case is a motive. So please, please be really careful not to give them one.”
But she’d gone too far with that last remark. I didn’t say anything, just looked at her, and she grimaced.
“Sorry, that came out wrong. Look—I know you had no reason to kill Gabe, and I’m probably being paranoid. But have you got one?”
“A motive?” I felt my voice sliding up an octave. “Are you shitting me? Of course I don’t have a fucking motive. What would that even look like?”
“I didn’t mean that—I meant, have you got a lawyer.”
“Oh.” I paused, trying to remember. “Yes, we’ve got this woman… Melanie, her name is. She works for a firm called Westland Law. We’ve used her a couple of times when things went south during jobs.”
My phone beeped with an email and I looked down at it automatically. It was a client, expressing sympathy and telling me not to hurry back on their account, but the clock at the top was showing eleven a.m. and I turned and unclipped my seat belt.
“Okay. Here’s hoping they’ve found something.”
“Hear, hear. Do you want me to wait?”
“Better not. I have no idea how long it’ll take. I can get a cab back if need be.”
“Sure. Okay, well… take care.” Hel leaned across the car to kiss my cheek and I hugged her back. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“Have you got any money?”
I was about to roll my eyes and tell her to stop fussing when I realized I actually didn’t. I didn’t even have a credit card—I had left my wallet in Hel’s spare room.
Hel saw my expression and pulled out her purse.
“See? Mother hens are good for some things. Here, it’s all I’ve got in cash, but it’ll have to do.” She held out two notes, a ten and a twenty, and I made a face and took them, tucking them into my phone case. “And repeat after me: Hel is always right.”
“Hel is always right,” I said, forcing myself to smile at her. Then I climbed out of the car, feeling her eyes on me as I crossed the car park and opened the door to the police station.
Inside the station it was noisy and smelled of cleaning fluid and used coffee cups. As I waited in line to speak to the officer behind the front desk, I couldn’t help scoping the place out as if I were on a job. Two exits—one to the street, unmanned; one to the interior of the station, no lock as far as I could see. There was probably an activation button under the desk. One fixed CCTV camera in the corner with a huge blind spot that covered most of the right-hand wall—not a very good design for a police station. The odd thing was that I had no memory of any of it from before. Shock had wiped half the night’s events from my brain—which felt strange, but no stranger than mechanically assessing the building’s risk profile in a world in which Gabe no longer existed.
When it was my turn, I gave my name and explained I was here to see DS Malik. The officer behind the desk smiled politely and told me to take a seat, but I had barely done so before Malik herself came out through the interior door. I tried to read her body language. She didn’t look like someone who had solved her case, and I felt my anxiety spike a little as I stood up.
“Hi.”
“Jack, hi, thanks so much for coming in. There are just a few points we wanted to clarify from our last interview. If you could follow me through here…”
“No problem.” She led me through the door, her pace quickening as we passed a warren of rooms and back offices. “Have you got any leads?”
“Your family liaison officer is the best person to talk to about that. Has she been in touch?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, well, I’ll chase that up,” Malik said. She ushered me inside an interview room that was similar to the one we’d occupied the other night.
“Jack, hi.” DC Miles was already there, and as I entered he stood up and shook my hand. I noticed again how young he was—barely out of uni, by the looks of it. There was a tape recorder on the desk and as we sat down, Miles clicked it on and looked at DS Malik, who nodded and spoke.
“Interview commenced at eleven twelve hours, Monday sixth February. DC Alex Miles and DS Habiba Malik interviewing witness Jacintha Cross, also known as Jack Cross, in connection with the death of her husband, Gabriel Medway. Jack, this is a voluntary interview under caution, which means that you’re not under arrest and you can leave at any time. However, a decision to arrest may apply should that happen and you decide to leave without being interviewed.” She stopped and took a breath, and I found myself frowning. They hadn’t said that yesterday… had they? But before I had a chance to question what the change in wording meant, Malik was continuing. “You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be used against you in evidence, and it may harm your defense if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in your defense. You also have the right to free, independent legal advice, and you can ask for a solicitor at any point. You can also ask for a consultation away from the interview room if needed, for advice, before you return to the interview. Do you understand these rights?”
“Um… yes,” I said slowly. I was still trying to figure out what had been different about the wording of the caution. Perhaps Hel’s paranoia was affecting me, but I was certain they hadn’t said the part about the decision to arrest when they interviewed me the last time. But what did the change in tone mean? Was Hel right?
“Jack, we’ve brought you back in because there’s just a few things we need to clarify about the statement you gave us the other night,” Malik said, and I nodded. She was leafing through a notebook, looking for something, and then stopped as she found it. “Right. So, you told us the other night that you thought you left the police station about two a.m., is that right?”
