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‘Hannah wasn’t on the pill, and she would never have slept with that old perv,’ says Simon. ‘She didn’t—’
‘You never actually slept with her, did you?’ says Jennie, pushing him harder. He clearly has no idea that Hannah was on the pill. For all his big talk, Jennie doubts he ever got close to sleeping with her friend. ‘You were still a virgin.’
‘I bloody well wasn’t,’ says Simon, his cheeks reddening, and his voice getting louder. ‘I’d done it with loads of girls.’
‘The thing is, we’ve heard it from multiple sources that you and Hannah hadn’t slept together.’ Jennie looks at Simon sympathetically, her voice kind. ‘There’s no shame in it, Simon. It’s just we know Hannah was sexually active, and we need to find out who she was sleeping with.’
Simon presses his fists into his thighs as if trying to stop himself from losing his temper and leans closer to Jennie, his eyes fixed on hers. ‘She couldn’t get enough of my dick. Morning, noon and night she always wanted me up her.’
Jennie tastes the bitterness on her tongue and fights the urge to heave. As she looks at Simon, his laddie bravado failing to cover the resentment he’s harbouring, she struggles to disguise how disgusting she finds him. But she knows she’s right; he’d felt emasculated and jealous, and maybe enough anger to push him over the edge and kill Hannah.
She holds Simon’s gaze. Feels the rage coming off him in waves.
Is he Hannah’s killer?
Chapter 32
It’s getting late by the time they get back to the station, so Jennie takes Martin up on his kind offer to put her bike in his boot and give her a lift home. The light is going as they arrive outside her place and although she’s perfectly capable of removing her bike, Martin jumps out to help her retrieve it from the car. Thanking him, Jennie slings her rucksack over her shoulder, and wheels the bike up the garden path towards the front door.
Martin trots after her. ‘You all right, boss?’
‘Yeah,’ says Jennie. But she isn’t, and she knows she’s been quieter than usual, dwelling on the interview. ‘He pissed me off, that’s all.’
‘What, Ackhurst?’ says Martin.
‘All that bravado bullshit, going on about shagging and Hannah begging for it …’ She shakes her head.
Martin nods, his expression sympathetic. ‘It was disrespectful.’
‘Exactly.’ Jennie knows she’s particularly sensitive to the way her murdered friend is spoken about, but even if she hadn’t known the victim personally, she’d still have been disgusted by Simon’s words. He was supposed to have cared for Hannah.
‘It must be hard investigating the death of someone you knew,’ says Martin, as if reading her thoughts.
Jennie nods, resisting the urge to minimise her friendship with Hannah. She knows that she should, but it feels as if she’s disrespecting Hannah by denying their relationship. ‘Yes.’
‘If it means anything, I think the way you handled Ackhurst was really impressive,’ says Martin. ‘A man like that has no respect for women, but you were such a pro in the way you conducted yourself and the interview.’
Jennie smiles. It’s the first positive feedback she’s had from a member of the team on her handling of the case. She thinks about Zuri’s criticisms of her leadership during this investigation – that she’s too close to the people involved, and that she’s not casting the net wide enough – and wonders if Martin or the others have had the same concerns. ‘Thanks, that means a lot.’
Martin holds her gaze. ‘Don’t worry about DS Otueome. She’ll see you’re right in time.’
Jennie’s not sure if he means about Rob Marwood, or Duncan Edwards, or the way she’s led the investigation, but it’s nice to hear anyway. They’ve reached her front door. Key in hand, she turns to face Martin. ‘Thanks, I hope so.’
Martin moves closer. ‘You’re doing a great job.’
‘I wonder if I am sometimes,’ says Jennie.
‘It must be lonely at the top,’ says Martin, his expression kind, understanding.
Jennie nods. ‘Thanks for the lift. See you tomorrow.’
Martin doesn’t reply. Holding her gaze with an intensity she’s never seen from him before, he leans in and brushes his lips against hers.
It’s unexpected, unwanted.
Surprised, Jennie steps back, her elbow knocking against the front door. ‘Martin, I—’
He lunges forward, crushing his mouth against hers, pressing his body against her. She tries to move away but his hand grips the back of her neck, clamping her to him. His tongue is in her mouth. His teeth clashing against hers. She feels as if she can’t breathe.
