Simon Kernick - The Last 10 Seconds

Tina managed a small, reassuring smile. ‘That’s one blessing at least. And the cleaner called the doctor, did she?’

‘Yes. He was certified dead at the scene. The doctor said it was a massive heart attack.’

‘Did he have any history of heart trouble?’ asked Grier.

The implication of his question was obvious, and Derval picked up on it straight away. ‘He had a triple heart bypass six years ago, but since then he’d given up smoking and started exercising and watching what he ate. He was looking the fittest I’d ever seen him in the months before Roisín was murdered. But what’s my dad’s death got to do with any of this?’

‘Nothing,’ answered Grier, glancing at Tina as if to say, ‘See? He had a history of heart trouble. It’s just a coincidence. What the hell are we here for?’

Tina suddenly felt very tired. It had been a long day and she was desperate to finish it by unwinding with a drink. Maybe she was simply seeing conspiracies where none existed. ‘Were you very close to Roisín?’ she asked, knowing she was going to have to tread carefully.

‘What does any of this, or my dad, have to do with what’s happened to Andrew Kent?’ Derval’s voice was suddenly laced with suspicion.

‘It’s just routine, Miss O’Neill,’ put in Grier. ‘It helps us to build up a picture in advance of the trial.’

Grier’s explanation sounded utterly lame, and Tina knew she was going to have to be honest with Derval. ‘There’ve been some developments in your sister’s case,’ she said firmly. ‘The evidence still points to Andrew Kent as being the killer but, strictly off the record, there are one or two areas of doubt, and we need to look at them again.’

‘You’re saying Kent may not have murdered my sister?’ Derval looked utterly shocked. ‘My God, I didn’t think things could get any worse.’

‘It’s almost certain he did,’ said Grier soothingly, which Tina knew was bullshit since Kent had a cast-iron alibi. ‘We just want to make sure, that’s all.’

Derval took another generous gulp of the wine and flicked back her long hair. ‘Yes, I was close to Roisín. I lived on the other side of London from her but we still got together now and again for drinks in the West End. Not as often as I’d have liked. . you know how busy everything gets in London. But yeah, we were friends.’

Tina had a theory. It was vague and full of holes, but it was all she had to go on. ‘I understand from the interviews with friends and family that Roisín was single when she died, but had she been in any serious relationships at any time in the immediate run-up to her death?’

‘The only serious boyfriend Roisín had since university was Max.’ The way Derval spoke his name suggested she hadn’t entirely approved of him. ‘She went out with him for a long time — three, four years, something like that.’

‘And when did it finish?’

‘About a year ago. He was seeing an Australian girl on the side and they ended up disappearing off to Oz. As far as I know, that’s where they still are. He didn’t even bother making contact after Roisín’s murder.’ She sighed. ‘I never liked him, but I can’t help thinking that if they were still together, she’d still be alive.’

Tina sighed. Her theory of the killer being a boyfriend with inside knowledge of the police investigation was looking pretty dead in the water. ‘Roisín was a very attractive woman. Was she seeing anyone else? Having any flings in those last few months?’

‘What are you trying to imply? That some irate ex-boyfriend killed her? Andrew Kent was the man who fitted the alarm in her apartment, the same as with the other victims. If he didn’t kill Roisín, then presumably he didn’t kill the other girls either. Is that what you’re trying to tell me? That Kent’s innocent? That there is no Night Creeper?’ She was slurring her words slightly, and Tina realized this wasn’t her first glass of wine of the evening.

‘I’m just trying to make sure we’ve got the right man, that’s all. Now I know how you must be suffering, Derval—’

‘No you don’t. You don’t have a fucking clue. Has anyone you know ever been murdered?’

‘Yes.’ The word came out louder than Tina had intended. ‘I know exactly what it feels like. I think about it every day.’

Derval looked stricken. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to shout.’

‘It’s OK,’ said Tina, feeling a wave of compassion for the woman in front of her. She got to her feet, went over and sat beside her, putting her arms round Derval’s shoulders, hugging her to her chest.

As she held her, her eyes met Grier’s and he mouthed the words ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ before turning away, an expression of disgust on his face.

A few seconds passed, then Derval gently pulled away and wiped her eyes with a well-used tissue, while Tina returned to her seat.

Derval picked up her wine and drank most of the remainder, letting out a long, satisfied sigh that was utterly familiar to Tina.

‘There was someone else.’

Tina snapped back to reality, the urge for a drink temporarily forgotten.

Derval stared into space as she spoke. ‘Roisín never actually came out and said she was seeing someone, but I knew she was. We went out a couple of times and she’d just give off telltale signs. It was the way she smiled over her texts, and disappeared off to make phone calls. I asked her about it, but she just said it was friends.’ She looked at Tina. ‘But I knew. And I’m guessing he must have been married. She would have known that I wouldn’t have approved. I had an affair once myself and got my fingers burned very badly, and Dad. . Well, he’d have hated it.’

‘So you have no idea who it might have been?’

Derval shook her head. ‘No, but I’m absolutely certain there was someone.’

‘Are you sure Roisín wouldn’t have talked to your father about it?’

‘I suppose it’s possible,’ Derval answered cautiously. ‘They were close, after all.’ She frowned. ‘You don’t honestly think that someone killed Dad to protect a secret lover of Roisín’s, do you? That’s just unbelievable.’

That was the problem. It was. But then so much of what had happened that day had been unbelievable, and that hadn’t stopped it happening. ‘We’re just following up every avenue of inquiry,’ said Tina, aware how hollow her answer sounded.

Derval looked at them both in turn. ‘I want some closure here. I want to know that justice is being done for my sister and my father, and I want to know, most of all, that the right man has been arrested for the crime, and that you’re going to get him back.’

‘We’re doing everything we can,’ said Grier.

‘You keep saying that. But are you? Look, I’m suffering enough as it is without you talking in riddles.’ Her voice was getting louder, and she looked like she might burst into tears at any moment.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tina saw Grier getting to his feet. She rose too, walked over to Derval and put a steadying hand on her shoulder. ‘I promise you justice will be done, Derval. I will personally keep you informed of everything that happens with regard to Andrew Kent, and this whole inquiry. You have my word on that.’

‘Do you suspect that my father’s death was suspicious?’

‘Yes, that’s a possibility,’ she said reluctantly.

Derval’s expression tightened, giving her cheeks a sunken, hollow look. ‘Oh God. After everything else. .’

‘It might not be, Derval, remember that. It’s just we’re keeping an open mind. Now, I need to see the CCTV tapes from the camera at the front of the property. I don’t suppose they’ll give us anything, but we need to take a look.’