Page 28

CHAPTER 28

MELANIE – D AY T HREE

Sitting opposite the teenager, Melanie’s mind is in overdrive. The boy, or young man, says he knows something about the body in the trolley. But what ?

It’s hard juggling two inquiries now and her priority is Amelie. She’s already assigned Sam to try to get to the bottom of the Meadows’ true situation. Where is Dawn? Why did Adam insist they were divorced when they’re not? Did another lawyer handle things?

Richard, another detective on the team, suddenly appears at the door with tea. He’ll sit in on this chat. Observe.

‘So – what is it that you have to share, Zak?’ Melanie looks down at her note to check she has the name right. At the front counter, Zak had said he would only speak to her. The woman on the telly. The one leading the investigation. He’s eighteen and says he doesn’t want anyone to sit in.

‘Is this like formal, then?’ Zak stares at the box that is used for recording interviews. Melanie notices his hand is trembling. He’s wearing the teenage uniform of black T-shirt and dark jeans which are ridiculously tight. Short, dark, cord jacket with a fur lining.

‘Because if this is formal, I need some kind of amnesty.’

‘Amnesty?’ Melanie can’t help her tone of voice. ‘This is a murder investigation. And a missing girl inquiry. It’s a very serious situation. Why would you need an amnesty?’ She pauses, aware that she should control her irritation. ‘If you have anything to share, you have a duty to share it, Zak.’

His face changes. Fear. Something else. He looks as if he might cry. More a boy than a young man suddenly.

Melanie regroups, glancing at the sergeant. ‘OK. So it’s good that you’ve come in, Zak. If you can help us – if you have information that will help our inquiry, then we’re very grateful. That will reflect well for you. But you do need to talk to me. Tell me what you know. Why you’re here.’

‘The guy in the shopping trolley.’ Zak’s head jerks. His expression all anxiety.

‘Sip your tea, Zak. Take it slowly. What do you know about the body found in the shopping trolley?’

Zak glances to the corner of the room, frowning. He closes his eyes. Melanie waits. And then at last ...

‘I was there. When it happened.’ Zak opens his eyes and turns back to look her in the face.

Melanie turns again to her sergeant and then back to Zak. ‘OK. Good. You’ve done the right thing, coming here. The hard thing. So take it slowly and tell us everything that happened. So you were there at the canal when the man and the shopping trolley went into the water. Is that right, Zak?’

‘Yes.’

‘So tell us exactly what happened.’

‘I tried to stop them.’ Zak rolls his lips tightly together. ‘I did try to stop them.’

‘Stop who, Zak?’ Melanie can feel a punch of adrenaline. She puts her left hand into her lap so she can clench it unseen. Needs Zak to stay calm. Not change his mind. Demand a lawyer. He’s eighteen. She can press on if he keeps going. Stays calm. ‘You’ve done the right thing, coming in, Zak. You’ve done the hard bit. Making the right decision. Take it slowly.’

Silence. A pause which feels too long. Melanie has been in this spot so many times and has learned that it can go either way. Zak looks fragile.

‘In your own time, Zak.’

Again the teenager looks away to the corner of the room as he starts talking again. ‘We’d been drinking. Quite a bit. Lager and cider mostly. Cheap stuff. To celebrate finishing our mocks.’

‘Who’s we?’

‘Me and three friends from school. Milburn House.’

Melanie exchanges another glance with the sergeant. Milburn House is a private school on the outskirts of Maidstead. High fees. And known for high jinks. Police were involved last summer when pupils celebrating the end of A levels had trashed the ballroom of a local hotel. It was all over the local press. Several hotels saying they were sick of posh boys who didn’t know how to behave.

‘Go on.’ Melanie watches as Zak closes his eyes again before taking a deep breath.

‘We were a bit drunk and Ben said it would be a laugh to go see the trolley guy by the canal.’

‘What do you mean, trolley guy?’

‘He was homeless. Often in the same spot, sort of begging. Kept his sleeping bag and bits and bobs in a shopping trolley. Sometimes he slept under the bridge further down the canal. Sometimes nearer the shops. He was often drunk. Funny. Shouting about politics and the monarchy. We took him alcohol sometimes. Ben thought it was hilarious. Winding him up. Talking politics and stuff.’

‘So what happened this time?’

‘He was already drunk. Pretty much out cold when we got there. Ben was disappointed, so he said – why not get him in the trolley and take him for a ride. Wake him up.’

Melanie feels a terrible wave of realisation.

‘I didn’t think it was a good idea. I said we should just leave it.’ Zak is now staring at Melanie, his eyes wide. ‘I didn’t help them.’

‘OK. I’m going to need the names, Zak. Ben’s surname and the full names of the other boys. Who was with you?’

Zak’s lip trembles. She waits.

‘We have to have the names.’

‘Ben Delaville. Tom Broadmoor and Harry Clifton. We were in the same A level group for History. We’d just done some mock exams. For retakes.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Tom and Harry and Ben got the guy in the trolley. It was difficult. They wanted me to help lift him but – I promise – I said no. Then they pushed him up and down a bit. Just for a laugh, I think. So then they started to let go of the trolley. Letting it freewheel on the slope.’ A pause. ‘They did that twice, pushing him back up the slope of the canal path.’

‘He didn’t wake up?’

‘No. He was out cold. From the booze. I think that’s why they pushed it faster. To try to wake him up.’

‘Tell us exactly how he ended up in the water.’

‘It wasn’t deliberate.’ Zak is ghostly pale as he finishes. ‘I don’t think any of us realised how deep the canal was alongside the path. They pushed him down the slope a third time. The trolley suddenly veered quite fast to the right. And into the water. We all thought it would just get stuck. That the water would come up to the middle of the trolley or something. But it went right under. I thought he would come up. I really thought he would come up. Float or something. But he didn’t.’

‘And you didn’t call anyone? Try to help him?’

‘No.’ Zak begins to cry. ‘I realise we should have done. I keep having dreams about it. But we were just too scared. Ben and Harry started to shout that we needed to run. Tom said the same. And I did the wrong thing.’ Tears on his cheeks now. ‘I ran.’

‘OK. So we’re going to need to write this all up in a proper statement, Zak.’

‘Am I going to be prosecuted?’

‘You should have come to us before, Zak. You know that. But it’s good that you’ve done the right thing now. I can’t say what will happen. You’re an adult but I suggest we call your parents. Get them here. Have you told them you’re here? Have you told them what happened?’ Zak shakes his head, his lip still trembling. ‘We need the exact time and date this happened.’

‘It was about 11 p.m., maybe 11.30 p.m. on the sixteenth. We’d been celebrating the end of exams and so I checked on my phone.’

Three weeks before Amelie went missing from the shop nearby. So the death in the trolley is not connected. Just as Melanie always assumed. A horrible and nasty prank gone tragically wrong.

‘There’s something else.’ Zak’s eyes are wide again. ‘About the girl.’

‘The girl? You mean Amelie Hill?’ Melanie feels a jolt.

‘I saw her.’

Melanie leans forward. Not understanding.

‘I started to go back to the canal. A couple of times a week. To check if anything had surfaced. I felt so terrible. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t sleep. Harry and Ben said we should just stay away. Lie low. Say nothing. But I was dreading the water level dropping. Or his body floating up ...’ He breaks off and sniffs. ‘Anyway. A few days ago, I was there, checking the water from further down the canal path on the other side. I knew that there was a plastic bag still over the only camera on the path so I knew I wouldn’t be filmed. I only went when it was really quiet. When there was no one about. And on Tuesday I saw this girl, just outside the back door to a shop.’

Melanie can hardly believe what she’s hearing.

‘And you’re sure it was Amelie Hill? Not someone else?’

‘Yeah. I saw her picture from the press conference on the telly. That’s why I realised I had to say something. Come forward. About all of it.’

‘OK. So tell us everything you saw.’

‘The girl, Amelie, she was just standing and she seemed to be talking to someone.’

‘Talking to who, Zak? This is really important. You need to describe the person she was talking to. Everything you can remember.’ Melanie sits up straighter. She feels herself lean in closer to the table.

‘I’m really sorry but I’m afraid I couldn’t see. From the angle, the corner of the building that juts out was hiding whoever she was talking to.’

Melanie tuts. Squeezes her eyes shut as she lets out a huff of air. She feels her left hand clench into a ball, her nails driving into her palm.

‘I legged it then, so I didn’t see what happened. Where she went.’

‘So how long did you watch her?’

‘Just a few seconds . I was worried she would see me. Or someone else would see me down by the canal.’ A pause. ‘But the thing is – and I don’t know if it’s important – but she wasn’t wearing what you said in the press conference.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘All the appeals said she was wearing jeans and a pink hoodie. But she was carrying those over her arm.’ Zak looks as puzzled as Melanie feels.

Melanie frowns. ‘So what was she wearing?’

‘A green dress. She was wearing a green dress.’