Holly Jackson - A Good Girl's Guide to Murder

There was a sudden triad of knocks on the study door and Cara poked her head in, squeaking when her messy topknot got caught on the frame.

‘Bugger off, I’m recording,’ Pip said.

‘Sorry, emergency, two secs,’ Cara said, lingering as a floating head. ‘Nai, where the hell have all those Jammie Dodger biscuits gone?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I literally saw Dad unpack a full packet yesterday. Where have they gone?’

‘I don’t know, ask him.’

‘He’s not back yet.’

‘Cara,’ Pip said, raising her eyebrows.

‘Yep, sorry, buggering off,’ she said, unhooking her hair and closing the door behind her again.

‘Um, OK,’ Pip said, trying to recover their lost tangent. ‘So when did you first hear that Andie was missing?’

‘I think Sal texted me Saturday, maybe late morning-ish.’

‘And what were your initial thoughts about where she might be?’

‘I don’t know.’ Naomi shrugged; Pip wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her shrug before. ‘Andie was the kind of girl who knew lots of people. I guess I thought she was hanging with some other friends we didn’t know, not wanting to be found.’

Pip took a preparatory deep breath, glancing at her notes; she needed to handle the next question carefully. ‘Can you tell me about when Sal asked you to lie to the police about what time he left Max’s?’

Naomi tried to speak, but she couldn’t seem to find the words. A strange, underwater silence mushroomed in the small space. Pip’s ears rang with the weight of it.

‘Um,’ Naomi said finally, her voice breaking a little. ‘We went around on Saturday evening to see how he was doing. And we were talking about what happened and Sal said he was nervous because the police had already been asking him questions. And because he was her boyfriend, he thought he was going to be a target. So he just said did we mind saying he left Max’s a little later than he did, like quarter past twelve-ish, so the police would stop looking at him and actually concentrate on finding Andie. It wasn’t, um, it didn’t seem wrong to me at the time. I just thought he was trying to be sensible and help get Andie back quicker.’

‘And did he tell you where he was between ten thirty and twelve fifty?’

‘Um. I can’t remember. No, maybe he didn’t.’

‘Didn’t you ask? Didn’t you want to know?’

‘I can’t really remember, Pip. Sorry,’ she sniffed.

‘That’s OK.’ Pip realized she’d leaned right forward with her last question; she shuffled her notes and sat back again. ‘So the police called you on the Sunday, didn’t they? And you told them that Sal left Max’s at twelve fifteen?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So why did you four change your mind and decide to tell the police on Tuesday about Sal’s false alibi?’

‘I . . . I think it’s because we’d had some time to think about it, and we knew we could get in trouble for lying. None of us thought Sal was involved in what happened to Andie, so we didn’t see the problem in telling police the truth.’

‘Had you discussed with the other three that that’s what you were going to do?’

‘Yeah, we called each other that Monday night and agreed.’

‘But you didn’t tell Sal that you were going to talk to the police?’

‘Um,’ she said, her hands racing through her hair again. ‘No, we didn’t want him to be upset with us.’

‘OK, last question.’ Pip watched as Naomi’s face ironed out with evident relief. ‘Do you think Sal killed Andie that night?’

‘Not the Sal I knew,’ she said. ‘He was the best, the nicest person. Always cheeky and making people laugh. And he was so nice to Andie too, even though she maybe didn’t deserve it. So I don’t know what happened or if he did it, but I don’t want to believe he did.’

‘OK, done,’ Pip smiled, pressing the stop button on her phone. ‘Thanks so much for doing that, Naomi. I know it’s not easy.’

‘That’s OK.’ She nodded and stood up from the chair, the leather squeaking against her legs.

‘Wait, one more thing,’ Pip said. ‘Are Max, Jake and Millie around to be interviewed?’

‘Oh, Millie’s off the grid travelling around Australia and Jake’s living with his girlfriend down in Devon – they just had a baby. Max is in Kilton, though; he just finished his master’s and is back applying for jobs, like me.’

‘Do you think he’d mind giving me a short interview?’ Pip said.

‘I’ll give you his number and you can ask him.’ Naomi held the study door open for her.

In the kitchen they found Cara trying to fit two pieces of toast in her mouth simultaneously and a just-returned Elliot in an eyesore pastel yellow shirt, wiping down the kitchen surfaces. He turned when he heard them come in, the ceiling lights picking up small wisps of grey in his brown hair and flashing across his thick-rimmed glasses.

‘You done, girls?’ He smiled kindly. ‘Excellent timing, I’ve just popped the kettle on.’

Pippa Fitz-Amobi

EPQ 12/08/2017

Just got back from Max Hastings’ house. It felt strange being there, like walking through some kind of crime-scene reconstruction; it looks just the same as it does in those Facebook photos Naomi and co. took of that fateful night five years ago. The night that forever changed this town. Max still looks the same too: tall, blonde floppy hair, mouth slightly too wide for his angular face, somewhat pretentious. He said he remembered me, though, which was nice.

After speaking to him . . . I don’t know, I can’t help but think something’s going on here. Either one of Sal’s friends is misremembering about that night, or one of them is lying. But why?

There are some inconsistencies between their two versions of events. Naomi said that Sal did talk about Andie and told all his friends they were having a disagreement. Max says he didn’t mention her once. Naomi says Sal told everyone that he was heading home early because he wasn’t ‘feeling it’. Max says he slipped out quietly.