‘Get Ev to sit in with you. And if she’s not around, find Somer.’
He flashes a look at me, but he doesn’t say anything. As for Gislingham, he could play poker with that face.
‘Right, Quinn?’
‘Right, boss.’
***
‘But I need you here.’
‘Sorry,’ says Everett. The signal is breaking up; she’s clearly in the car. ‘I’ve got a whole list of antiques shops to see. Following up on those missing netsuke .’
Quinn can barely conceal his irritation. ‘But that’s a job for uniform, surely. It’s just a poxy burglary.’
‘Not my call, Sarge. Fawley said to –’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know.’
‘Why is it such a problem? Gislingham should be around, and Baxter –’
‘Look, forget it, OK?’
Only ‘OK’ is clearly the last thing it is, and Everett ends the call none the wiser. Quinn meanwhile has a bullet to bite. Somer’s not at her desk, but her sergeant suggests he try the canteen. Not without a smirk, though, which Quinn elects not to notice.
She’s in the corner, with a coffee and a book. A huge book – some Penguin Classics thing. He’d forgotten, for a moment, that she was once an English teacher. When he gets to the table she sees his shadow fall across the page and looks up. She manages a smile. A slightly artificial one, but a smile.
‘It’s about a young woman kept captive and raped,’ she says, indicating the book. ‘It was published in 1747, but some things never change, do they?’
Quinn sticks his hands in his pockets. He’s not making much eye contact. ‘I’m going to interview Pippa Walker again. Fawley wants you to sit in.’
‘Me? Why not –’
‘He wants a woman, and Everett’s not here.’
So it was Fawley’s idea, not yours. The thought is clear enough on her face.
‘So, are you free or what?’
She sits up and closes the book. ‘Of course. Whatever you need. Sergeant.’
He flashes a glance at her, on the alert for sarcasm. But her face is smooth of all disdain.
‘You want ten minutes to read the interview notes?’
‘Already done. I’ve tried to keep up, even if I am “only uniform”.’
She waits for him to make some barbed remark about using the investigation to further her career, but it doesn’t come. She gathers up her stuff and follows him along the corridor and down the stairs to Interview Two, where he stops outside the door. They can see the girl through the glass panel. She’s playing a game on her phone. She doesn’t look up when they take their seats and sighs heavily when Quinn asks her to put her phone away. She looks at Somer warily.
‘Who’s she?’
‘Constable Somer. She’ll be sitting in on the interview.’
Pippa sits back. ‘How much longer am I going to be stuck here?’ she says, in that sing-song upper-middle accent this town is thick with.
‘We just have a few more questions.’
‘But I’ve told you everything I know.’ She sits forward again. ‘I’ve been really helpful, haven’t I? You said I was.’
‘You have,’ says Quinn, flushing a little. ‘But we have to be really clear what happened. So let’s go back to the beginning again.’
The girl rolls her eyes.
‘You met Hannah Gardiner in October 2014, at a stall in North Parade.’
She blinks. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
He pushes the photo of the Cowley Road carnival across the table. ‘At the time this picture was taken – August 2014 – you said you’d never met either Rob Gardiner or his wife.’
She looks at the picture, then sits back and shrugs. ‘There must’ve been hundreds of people there. Thousands.’
‘So it was just a coincidence.’
She flashes a smile at him. ‘Yeah. If you like.’
‘And the fact that he’s looking straight at you, that’s just a coincidence too?’
She puts her head on one side and starts to twirl an end of hair. ‘A lot of blokes look at me. You did.’
Quinn flushes, deeper this time. ‘So at the time of this picture you and Rob Gardiner definitely hadn’t met?’
‘No –’
‘You weren’t having an affair?’
She smiles again. ‘No, we weren’t having an “affair”.’ She slides a glance up at him. ‘Though as it happens, I do quite like older men . . .’
Perhaps this is why Fawley wanted a woman in on this, thinks Somer. Because I’m not falling for this winsome bullshit.
She pulls Quinn’s file towards her and takes out a sheet of paper. ‘You stated just now that you’d told us everything. Well, you certainly didn’t tell us you were pregnant. Who’s the father – because it isn’t Rob Gardiner, is it?’
Pippa glares at her. ‘Who told you that? It’s none of your business.’
‘You didn’t know he couldn’t have children?’
Pippa makes a face at her but says nothing.
‘And those marks on your wrist – that’s what happened when he found out? He hit you like he used to hit his wife?’
Pippa pulls down her sleeves. ‘I’m not talking about that again.’ But her tone has changed. The bravado has gone.
‘Are you aware,’ says Somer coolly, ‘that you could end up in court if you lie to the police?’
Pippa’s eyes widen and she looks at Quinn. ‘What’s she talking about?’
‘Well –’ begins Quinn, but Somer cuts across him.
‘We are currently investigating Robert Gardiner as a possible suspect in his wife’s death. That will mean going over every inch of his life with a fine-tooth comb. His phone records, his texts. Where he was and when. And who he was with . Do you understand?’
Pippa nods; her cheeks are red.
‘And if we find out that you’ve been lying to us, you could find yourself facing a criminal charge.’
Quinn is staring at her, but Somer doesn’t care. He might know she’s pushing it, but the girl doesn’t.
Pippa has gone pale. She turns to Quinn. ‘You said I should think about bringing charges against him. You never said anything about arresting me .’
‘Do you really want to have your baby in prison?’ continues Somer. ‘In fact, do you really want to have your baby at all, because I reckon Social Services will take the view that it’ll be better off adopted by someone else. Perverting the course of justice carries a custodial sentence, did you know that?’
‘ No ,’ says Pippa, really frightened now. ‘Please – don’t send me to prison.’
‘In that case,’ says Somer, sitting back and folding her arms, ‘you’d better start talking, hadn’t you? And this time, we’d like the truth.’
For God’s sake, don’t say anything, Somer begs Quinn silently. Force her to confront it – force her to decide.
‘OK,’ says Pippa at last. ‘I’ll tell you. But only if I get protection. From him. From what he’ll do to me when he finds out.’
An hour later, when they come out of the room, Quinn turns to Somer. ‘Fuck, you can be a cold bitch when you want to be.’
Somer raises an eyebrow. ‘All that matters is getting a result. Putting the right bastard behind bars. Isn’t that what you said?’
She turns to go but he calls her back. ‘It was meant as a compliment. I’m sorry if it didn’t sound like one.’
She looks at him; his usual swagger seems curiously deflated. In fact, he was pretty much silent the whole time they were taking the statement. ‘Frankly, I’m not bothered either way,’ she says. But as she walks off, she allows herself a small private smile.
***
STATEMENT OF PIPPA WALKER
7 May 2017
DATE OF BIRTH: 3 February 1995
ADDRESS: Flat 3, 98 Belford Street, Oxford
This statement, consisting of two pages each signed by me, is true to the best of my knowledge and belief, and I make it knowing that, if it is tendered in evidence, I shall be liable to prosecution if I have wilfully stated in it anything which I know to be false or do not believe to be true.
Читать дальше