Page 126 of The Guilty Girl

‘Any idea where he might have gone afterwards?’

‘How would I know?’ That sounded like smart-arse talk. He had to keep calm. He hoped his expression was neutral. Impossible. Trying to master a steady tone, he added, ‘I honestly didn’t know him. You have to believe me.’ So much for neutral and steady; he was positively pleading.

‘I don’t have to believe you, Cormac, I only need to prove it. So tell me again, when and where did you last see Jake Flood?’

She sipped her coffee, then unwrapped the biscuit, her eyes never leaving his. It was like he was caught in a dentist’s chair, a laser beamed at him. The crunch was coming and he tried not to squirm.

‘At the party.’

‘When at the party?’

‘When he sold me the … when I got the … you know.’ Fucking hell.

‘What time was that, when you purchased drugs from him?’ She had raised her voice.

‘I don’t know. I’d had a few vodkas by then.’

‘Did you see him after Hannah’s altercation with Lucy?’

‘I wouldn’t swear to it. Not on a bible, like.’

‘Time enough for swearing on bibles in court, Cormac. Tell me, did you return to him for more “you know”?’

Now she was mocking him. He sat on his hands to still them. He reckoned if he was a cartoon character, his eyes would be popping out of his head on springs. Keep the fuck calm, he warned himself.

‘The only thing I did after the fight was help Hannah get cleaned up. And everyone saw that.’

‘Where did Hannah clean up?’

‘In the bathroom.’

‘Which bathroom?’

‘Beside the kitchen.’ How many frigging bathrooms were there in Lucy’s house? Any time he’d worked there, he’d rarely seen the inside of the house. Had had to piss into the rose bush by the back wall. No need to tell her that.

‘Was there much blood?’ She was relentless.

‘I don’t think there was any blood.’

‘Really?’

‘It’s the truth.’ He racked his brain, trying to remember. No. There had been no blood. Not then, though.

‘Why did she need to get “cleaned up”, as you say?’

‘Her make-up was all over the place. She looked like she was possessed. They were just clawing at each other, pulling at their clothes. That’s all.’

‘Mmm. You see, Cormac, if that’s true and there was no blood at that time, it makes me wonder …’ Her voice trailed off.

‘Wonder what?’ he couldn’t resist asking.

‘We found blood under Hannah’s fingernails. We also forensically examined a towel found in her rucksack.’

‘What does that mean?’ Cool, be cool, man. But it was difficult with rivers of sweat trickling down his spine, pooling in the small of his back. He was finding it harder still to act his twenty years.

She looked at him as if he were dense, and took another sip of coffee before carefully replacing the cup on the saucer. ‘Here’s the kicker, Cormac. We found traces of Lucy’s DNA on your shirt. The DNA of an innocent seventeen-year-old kid.’

‘Kid?’