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‘No, I’d—’
‘Did Simon help you cover up what you’d done?’ continues Jennie, pointing at Elliott. ‘Is that why you’ve been paying him all these years?’
‘No. That’s not true. It’s not true.’ Tears stream down Elliott’s face. He looks at her, horrified. ‘Why would you say that, Jen? Why?’
Elliott’s raw emotion, and the anguish on his face, makes it feel as if her heart is about to shatter, but she can’t stop pushing. She has to know the truth.
‘You’re harassing my client,’ says the solicitor. ‘Any more of this and we’ll leave the interview.’
‘The interview’s finished when I say so,’ snaps Jennie. She narrows her gaze at Elliott. ‘You’re a killer, aren’t you? A liar and a manipulator. You’re lying to us, to me.’
‘Jennie, please,’ whimpers Elliott. ‘Stop—’
‘You make people think you’re their friend and then you use them and discard them.’ Jennie’s heart is pounding. Her voice is getting louder. She slams her hands down on the table, making Elliott flinch. ‘Did you discard Hannah? Did you kill her? Admit it, Elliott. Tell me what you did. Tell me that you killed her and that you pay Simon to keep quiet. Tell me the—’
‘Enough!’ bellows Elliott’s solicitor, angry and red-faced as she begins to stand. ‘We’re going.’
Jennie holds up her hands. She nods at Zuri, indicating for her to continue the interview. The expression on her DS’s face tells her she went too far, but that’s bullshit.
I didn’t go far enough.
As Zuri persuades Elliott’s solicitor to stay, and continues the questioning in a less confrontational manner, Jennie watches Elliott. There’s a haunted look on his face, but that’s not what has caught her attention.
Clearly unsettled, he’s clasping and unclasping his hands together on the desk as he talks, and as he does so Jennie looks at the marks on his hands that she’d assumed were eczema. She glances at her own hand; at the red, blistered acid burn. The mark, although fresher, is not dissimilar to Elliott’s. She looks up, and their eyes meet. Next moment, Elliott swiftly removes his hands from the table and puts them in his pockets out of sight.
They don’t get anything else of use from the interview. Elliott’s solicitor is on them like a hawk for any questions that could be perceived as out of line, and Elliott himself becomes increasingly withdrawn, sitting back in his seat with his head bowed, avoiding eye contact. They call it a day after another half an hour and watch as Elliott and his brief walk away towards the exit, the solicitor speaking to him in urgent, hushed tones.
When the pair leave through the double doors at the end of the corridor, Jennie turns and heads towards the stairs, still thinking about the acid and the marks on Elliott’s hands. Zuri goes with her.
‘What happened in there?’ asks Zuri. ‘You totally blindsided me.’
‘Sorry, I felt he was holding out on us and I wanted to push him more,’ says Jennie.
‘You certainly did that.’ Zuri frowns. ‘Did you know him well at school?’
Jennie tenses, but tries not to show her discomfort at the question. She turns into the stairwell, stepping slightly ahead of her DS so she doesn’t have to make eye contact as she replies, ‘As well as anyone.’
‘Please don’t fob me off,’ says Zuri. ‘Just how many of our suspects were you close with?’
Shit.
‘Look I knew him, okay? We were friends almost thirty years ago, but I haven’t seen him since school,’ replies Jennie, trying to keep her tone light. ‘I guess he was trying to appeal to my sense of nostalgia to get me to back off but, the thing is, I don’t remember my time at White Cross Academy especially fondly, so it was never going to work.’
As they reach the top of the stairs Zuri turns and holds Jennie’s gaze for a long moment, then shakes her head. ‘For the record, I think you’re right that he’s holding something back. Any hypothesis on what?’
‘Nothing concrete,’ says Jennie, trying not to think about the anguish on Elliott’s face as she accused him of murder. ‘But something isn’t adding up. I’ve got a hunch, but nothing behind it. I want to check a couple of things, then let’s debrief properly.’
‘All right.’ Zuri pauses, her hand on the door into the open-plan team office. ‘Are you okay, Jennie? I don’t mean to pry, and I’m not judging you, really, but you seem kind of detached. We usually share theories before we check them. Are you freezing me out?’
‘I’m fine, just a bit tired,’ says Jennie, annoyed that Zuri is back to this again. ‘You don’t need to worry about me or the investigation. Like I told you when you asked before, I’m fully committed to it.’
Zuri does look worried though. Maybe her explanation of why she went so far berating Elliott didn’t reassure her DS as much as she hoped.
Jennie exhales hard. She can’t bloody win – people either think she doesn’t care enough about the case or that she’s overdoing it. She knows her emotions are all over the place and, as much as she wants to believe Zuri is wrong, she also realises she’s probably acting differently from usual. But she’s trying, she really is.
Knowing she needs to keep Zuri onside and can’t afford to get defensive, Jennie softens her voice and forces a smile. ‘I’m fine, really, but thanks for asking; I appreciate it. When this case is over, let’s go to that nice Italian and eat pasta and drink all the wine.’
Zuri smiles, but there’s still concern behind her eyes. ‘Sounds good.’
