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Vitruvious finances/interview (why have we been told not to?)
Kaylan interview
Pepperdines — how did they pay?
Other painting students — did they pay extra? How?
Chase up forensics about white van(s)
Computer hacking? Jared Brody?
“That should keep us going for a bit,” Eddy said, reaching for the bag of snacks. Patsy was batting his hand away when her phone rang. She answered then almost fell into a chair.
“Oh my God, is she OK?” Patsy held the phone away from her face and turned to Charlie and Eddy, tears forming in her eyes. “Mags has been attacked by a man with a knife. She’s pregnant and they’re afraid she’ll lose the baby.”
20
Mags
Tuesday 9.30pm
Nowhere in Llanfair was very far from anywhere else. Mags lived about ten minutes' walk from the police station: into the town, then past the college and out on the other side. For Mags, as for most of the townspeople, the college grounds were a regular cut-through. In the last few days, Charlie had seen how people simply turned in through the gates and walked across to cut off corners. Tom had told him that the library was open to anyone, and that the doctor’s surgery for the whole town was on the campus itself. So, when Patsy said Mags had been attacked, Charlie assumed it had been at the college.
It almost was, but there was still police tape around the sheds and workshops at the back, and everywhere else was well lit. Students’ Union people and campus services officers were walking round with big torches, unaware that the police had someone in custody. But the college was surrounded by a high wall which cast a deep shadow after dark. In the day, the outside of the wall was lined with cars; at night, most had gone. A few residents without private spaces parked there, but for the most part, it was empty. Except tonight, when there had been a man in a balaclava and black clothes, carrying a big knife.
Patsy’s face was as white as a sheet. She kept saying, “OK, OK,” to whoever she was listening to on the phone. When the call ended, she said, “That was Mags’ husband. Mags has a knife wound on her arm, not too serious he says, but she got knocked over and the first responders are afraid of concussion and for the baby. The ambulance is on its way.”
The three of them were on their feet, coats on, and out of the door by the time Patsy had finished speaking. They took the car, blue lights flashing, and arrived at the same time as the ambulance. Mr Mags stood holding his wife’s hand, looking daggers at the three police officers. Their house was across the road and both he and some of the neighbours had heard Mags shouting and run out to help.
Mags turned to Charlie, blood dripping from her right hand. Her padded coat was torn, leaking its stuffing which was stained with blood. “It wasn’t the flasher, I’m certain of it,” she said. “Nothing like the man in the videos. This bloke was bigger and taller, a man, not a boy. I didn’t realise that until I saw him tonight. Black clothes, but shoes, not trainers. A balaclava with just eye holes. Too dark to see the colour.” A paramedic was speaking urgently about wanting to look at Mags’ arm, and her husband kept saying, “She’s pregnant. She was unconscious.”
Mags pulled away. “I wasn’t unconscious. I fell, that’s all.” She pointed to the ground in the darkest shadow under the wall. “My pepper spray. I didn’t use it. I got it out of my pocket, and he knocked it out of my hand and swiped at me with the knife. If he touched it, there might be prints. I spat at him, so look at his clothes when you get him. I might have bled on him too.” Mags gave an attempted smile.
“Which way did he go?” Charlie asked.
“Gate Street.” Mags pointed to a narrow street on the other side of the road, with no pedestrians and few lights. The nearest end was blocked by bollards to stop cars. The attacker could have removed the balaclava and emerged into the better-lit streets looking like anyone else.
“Was he waiting for you, or just anyone?” Charlie asked, feeling the increase in tension emanating from Mags’ husband and the paramedic.
“Mags, the baby,” her husband said.
“The baby is fine,” she said. “I’m fine, and I’m coming now.” She turned her back on her husband to face Charlie. She wasn’t fine, Charlie could see that, but he needed the answer to his question. “He was waiting for me, I think. I saw him standing in the shadow of the wall, and stepped out to walk past, and that’s when he moved. We’re right opposite our house. The whole wall is in shadow, but he chose to wait here.”
“Mags,” her husband said, and this time she listened.
“I’m coming,” she said and allowed herself to be led to the waiting ambulance.
Even before it had closed its doors, Charlie had the big torch from the back of the police car, shining it down into the corner of the wall, where there was a pepper spray lying next to some dead leaves. “Bag it up,” he said to Patsy, “and have a good look round in case there’s anything else. Tape it off, so we can have another look in daylight. Eddy, Gate Street, look in the bins, gardens, anywhere he might have thrown the balaclava or the knife. I’ll speak to the witnesses.”
Most of the neighbours had begun to drift back to their houses once the ambulance went on its way. He caught up with two of them as they crossed the road.
“DS Rees,” he said. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
In all, three sets of Mags’ neighbours had heard her shouts, and run out of their houses. Everyone else in the small crowd of onlookers had been attracted by the blue flashing lights and commotion in a quiet street. The houses were close together, but semi-detached rather than a single terrace. Outside the house attached to the Jellicoes’ the front door was open, and a small boy stood in the light. His blond hair stood up in spikes, and he was wearing pyjamas decorated with dinosaurs. He held a plastic T-Rex in an unlikely shade of green in one hand.
“Dylan!” his mother exclaimed, appearing behind him. “You should be in bed.”
“I saw the robber. I wanted to see if they would catch him,” Dylan replied. “Like in my story.” He looked up at Charlie. “Are you a policeman? Have you got a badge and handcuffs? Have you got a gun?” He turned the plastic dinosaur on its side and held it pointing forwards. “Bang! The robber is dead. Mummy won’t let me have a real gun.”
