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‘Why should he? He was born and raised here. His father’s here. I’m here,’ she said, with defiance.
‘When you first found out who your father was, how did it make you feel?’ Kyra asked.
‘Is that relevant to how he died?’
‘I’m just trying to understand your relationship with him.’
‘We had a good relationship. It wasn’t easy discovering the father I didn’t know I had was a convicted murderer, but the more I looked into it, the more I researched, the more I understood that he did not mean to kill Stephanie White,’ she said, looking at Terry for his reaction when she mentioned Stephanie’s name.
‘Do you honestly believe that?’ Terry asked.
‘Yes. I do. Because it’s the truth. Look, why are you questioning me like this? You should be out there trying to find out who killed him. Or don’t you give a toss because he’s a murderer who killed the daughter of one of your own?’
‘We take every single case incredibly seriously, Ms Shepherd,’ Terry said, a heaviness to his tone. ‘I don’t care what your father did in the past, but I will find out who killed him and make sure they answer for their crime to the full extent of the law.’
‘But you do care. I can see it in your eyes,’ Dawn said. ‘When I mentioned Stephanie just now, you flinched. It was only slightly, but I still saw it. Are you really the right person to be leading this investigation?’ she asked, leaning forward on the stained and scratched table.
‘Ms Shepherd, I am a professional. I’ve been a police officer since I was twenty years old. I am more than capable of leaving my emotions at the door and doing the job to the best of my ability.’ His fists were clenched, there was a vein throbbing in his neck and his leg was jiggling involuntarily under the table.
Dawn maintained eye contact. She allowed the silence to envelop them both. Kyra Willis might as well not have been in the room.
‘So, what if the killer turns out to be Stephanie’s father, former Detective Inspector Harry White? What if he went around to Dominic’s house and killed him for what he’d done to Stephanie all those years ago? Would you arrest him?’
Terry swallowed hard. ‘Yes. I would.’ His reply lacked conviction.
‘Really? The man is your father’s best friend. He’s a career template for you. You’d handcuff him, lead him to the car with everyone watching, caution him, interview him, inform the CPS to prosecute, and watch while he was handed a life sentence, a sentence which he wouldn’t serve because, at his age, he’d most likely die in prison.’
Dawn could see Terry’s nostrils flaring as he breathed deeply in and out. His lips were pursed, his blinking had increased. In the silence of the room, she thought she could even hear his heart pounding in his chest.
‘Ms Shepherd, I understand you’re upset, but we’re deviating from our line of questioning,’ Kyra said, clearing her throat. ‘Could you tell us where you were from yesterday evening onwards?’
Dawn still kept her eyes locked on Terry. It was a while before she turned away. ‘Yes. I was in bed for most of the day. I’m afraid I celebrated a little too hard on New Year’s Eve. A good friend of mine had got engaged just after midnight.’
‘Where was this celebration?’
‘In their flat. We live in the same building.’
‘What time did you get back home?’
‘It was very early in the morning. Maybe three, four o’clock?’
‘Did you go home with anyone?’
‘No.’
‘So, from four o’clock on the morning of the first of January until later that day, nobody can corroborate your story.’
‘Actually, from four o’clock in the morning until early this morning, nobody can corroborate my story. I didn’t see anyone. I spoke to my mum on the phone in the evening, but I was on my own until I left the flat this morning.’
‘So, you have no alibi for the time of your father’s death?’
‘It would appear not.’
Dawn was told she could leave. There was no reason for her to stay, but they’d be in touch if they had more questions, Kyra told her, as she was led out of the police station with her mother in tow.
Terry watched from the door of the interview room. He waited until she was out of sight before he stormed off and took the stairs two at a time.
He was seething as he strode down the corridor. He entered the open-plan CID office, barging his way through the maze of desks, before throwing open his office door and chucking his notebook across the room.
