25
“Did you not think it odd when Louella didn’t turn up?” There was no hostility in Byford’s voice.
Bev saw Gary Kent struggling to keep it out of his. “No. I told you. I got a call.”
It was well past one in the morning. They were in the governor’s office back at Highgate and she was sitting in at Byford’s request. The interview wasn’t going on tape and there’d been no caution. They were the only concessions Byford was making to Gary’s position as a police officer.
“Yes.” Byford consulted his notes. “You said she rang around four to tell you she was spending the night at a friend’s.”
Kent nodded, barely able to speak even though the bizarre session was at his own request. He’d insisted on getting the questions out of the way. Bev saw his point. He was sharp enough to realise he’d be under suspicion. He wanted any doubts and rumours cleared up fast, so the inquiry didn’t lose pace. They all did. But it didn’t make the ordeal any easier.
He could also, though Bev didn’t want to believe it, be lying through his teeth.
“Was that normal?” Byford persisted. “Did Louella often stay out?”
She saw Gary’s fists clench; she’d winced too at the implication. He took a deep breath.
“She’s fifteen-years-old. It’s what teenagers do. She revises with her friends, watches videos, has sleepovers.”
Had, thought Bev. The reality hadn’t sunk in even though he’d identified the body. According to Byford, Gary had said nothing, just nodded once, then turned on his heel. His motor had been collected ready for forensics, and his alibi was being checked.
Eliminating him as a suspect – assuming they would – was a priority. They’d all seen TV interviews with grieving relatives who’d turned out guilty as sin. He was hiding it, but Bev reckoned Gary was going through hell.
“Did you check?” Byford was showing no emotion either but she couldn’t believe it wasn’t there. Kent was a CID officer with seventeen years in the service. Whichever way this scene panned out, it was personal. And painful. For all three.
“We’ve been through all this.” Gary ran a hand over his face. Bev reckoned he’d aged ten years in an hour. His redhead’s pale, freckled complexion now resembled mottled parchment. A comb and a shave might have gone some way to restoring his normally groomed appearance, but somehow she doubted it.
“Let’s go through it again,” Byford said.
Gary sighed. “She’s stayed with this girl – Becky, Rebecca Adams – a few times.” There was a pause. “Especially since Louise and I…”
Byford helped out. “Split up?”
“Stopped living together. Look, our marriage has nothing to do with this.”
Byford shrugged.
“It hasn’t,” Gary insisted. “Neither of us has ever stopped loving Lou. She always knew we were both there for her.”
Bev looked down at her hands. No one spoke for a while.
“Anyway.” Byford broke the silence. “It now emerges that Rebecca knew nothing of this arrangement.”
Gary nodded, worrying a piece of loose skin at the side of his thumb.
“How did Louella sound?” Byford asked. “On the phone?”
“Bit rushed. Said she was in a hurry.”
“Could there have been someone with her?”
He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. The line was breaking up. I’m always on at her to make sure the battery’s charged. You know what kids are.”
Bev made a note. Far as she knew, they hadn’t found a mobile.
“Did you ring your wife? To confirm the story?” Byford asked.
Gary stared at Byford for a few seconds. His voice was calm at first. “I tried ringing Louise. She was in court. I was going to leave a message at the house but the answerphone wasn’t on.”
Bev closed her eyes. The woman would blame herself; was already. Guilt and grief had been etched on her face. It was yet another image Bev would want to forget.
“As for checking Lou’s story…” Gary paused, beginning to lose it. “It wasn’t a story. Lou doesn’t make up stories. She’s never lied to us. She’s young for her age, never been in any trouble. She’s a good girl, an A star pupil. We never let her out on her own. We always know where she is, who she’s with, what time she’ll be back. She’s not some little slag on a street corner.”
“Like Michelle Lucas?” They were Bev’s first words and could have been chipped from ice.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He rushed to apologise but Bev’s face said it wasn’t enough.
“I really didn’t.” There was a catch in his voice. “Lou’s never harmed anyone in her life. She didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“No one deserves to die like that, Gary.”
“’Course not. It goes without saying.”
Not necessarily, thought Bev. Shell and Vicki might not have the benefits of a private education and professional parents, but they were as good as anyone.
“Honest, Bev,” he said. “I hear what you’re saying. What do you think I’ve been doing the last few days? I want the bastard behind bars as much as you do.”
She leaned forward. “What have you been doing? The last few days? Who’ve you spoken to? Where’ve you been?”
Gary shook his head, turned his mouth. “It’s been routine, mostly. Chasing up interviews, alibi checks, you know the sort of stuff.”
“What about the Beemer?” Bev asked. “You and Daz have been on that, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. That as well. Cruising round. Asking questions.”
“Any trouble?”
“Bit of verbal. Can’t think of anything out of the ordinary.”
Byford slipped his pen into a pocket, pushed back the chair. “We’ll look at it again in the morning. Right now you’re too knackered to think straight about anything. Get home. You need sleep.” He glanced at Bev. “We all do.”
Sleep would be a long time coming, she knew that. “D’you want a lift, Gary?” It was a rapprochement of sorts, though she hadn’t forgotten his remarks.
He shook his head. “I’ll walk. I need the air.” He reached the door, looked back. “I’m telling the truth, boss. I’ve killed no one. But when we catch the bastard, make sure I’m not around.”
“You can’t stay on the case, Gary,” Byford said. “Not now. You know that.”
Gary opened his mouth. Bev thought he was about to argue, but he left without another word. She’d caught the look in his eye; silence didn’t necessarily mean acceptance.