The Silent One

by M K Farrar

  A knock came at the door, and Shawn’s head poked through the gap. “Forensics has come back on the items of clothing Paige Arland gave us. They’re... err... interesting.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right there.” She turned back to Gibbs. “This might be our evidence.”

  Gibbs huffed out a frustrated breath. “I hope it is, because we’re never going to bring her in on the circumstantial evidence you have so far.”

  She nodded. “I hope so, too.”

  Erica slipped from the room, her emotions jangling. Did she really hope that Paige Arland was the killer? She wasn’t so sure about that. Something about the girl seemed fragile, broken. Erica had no doubt in her mind that Paige was hiding something, but was it really that she killed Adam? Or was it more likely that she knew who did?

  Erica stopped at Shawn’s desk. “Tell me what we’ve got. I hope it’s that Adam Humphries’ blood was over everything we gave them.”

  Shawn shook his head. “I’m afraid not. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. There’s no sign of any blood at all.”

  “Not even staining?”

  “Nope. The report came back that the dress appeared hardly worn.”

  She frowned. “That’s strange. Paige said it had blood all over it. She said she’d washed it, but why wouldn’t there at least be some residual staining? It might not be noticeable to the naked eye, but forensics would have picked up on it.” She thought of something. “Bring up all the images we have of both Paige and the dress.”

  Shawn clicked his mouse, pulling up all the CCTV footage they had of Paige from that night, plus the images forensics had sent over in their report.

  Erica leaned in, her gaze flicking between each of the photographs. Something was different, but what?

  It suddenly dawned on her.

  “Look.” She stabbed her finger at one of the images forensics had sent over of the dress and the image of Paige entering the halls of residence. “Let’s play spot the difference.”

  Shawn leaned closer, frowning. “What is it?”

  She pointed to Paige’s shoulder. “The strap on the dress she was wearing that night is torn. But the one she gave us isn’t.”

  “Could she have mended it?” he suggested.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Well enough for forensics not to report that it had been previously torn?”

  He shook his head. “No, of course not.”

  Erica exhaled a long breath. “So, she lied to us about the dress. What else has she lied about?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Paige’s phone buzzed for the fiftieth time in the last hour and then fell silent again.

  She pulled herself out of her misery long enough to check the screen. All the missed calls were from Jasmine. Her friend hadn’t followed her, though. She could have come up to the room and knocked on her door, but she hadn’t, and Paige thought she knew why. Jasmine hadn’t wanted to leave Lucas’s side. She’d chosen to spend the time with Lucas rather than come and see what was wrong with her friend, and to Paige, that spoke volumes. If she was willing to choose Lucas over Paige now, what would she be like when she knew the truth?

  No, she couldn’t tell Jasmine. She would lose her as a friend, she was sure of it.

  If she doesn’t stand by you, then is she really much of a friend?

  A part of her knew she was right, but she felt like she was in mourning. Mourning the innocence she’d lost, mourning the loss of her friend, mourning the life she’d hoped for. If this all came out, everyone would see her as the girl who’d been raped. That would be the one defining thing that people would know about her. And that was before she even tried to piece together Adam Humphries’ murder with what had happened to her. Was there even a connection? She felt sure that there was one, but her brain was like a mass of twisting snakes, poisonous and terrifying. She didn’t want to pull it all apart.

  But still her phone continued to buzz.

  The memorial would be over, the crowds dispersed. Most people had probably gone down to the union, enjoying having an excuse to have a few drinks in the middle of the day, pretending to toast a young man they probably had never even spoken to—not that they normally needed an excuse. Was Jasmine drinking with Lucas? Was she kissing him? Allowing him to put his hands all over her?

  A memory of his hands holding her down, down, his palms hot against her skin, flashed through her head, and she shuddered.

  How could she do this? It was impossible. No matter which way she turned, she couldn’t see a way of undoing what she knew. Maybe she should go home, just pack up and leave. Her mum would be happy to have her back again, she was sure, even if she would be encroaching on the little love nest her mum had set up with her new partner. They’d probably been looking forward to some quality time together, but Paige knew her mother loved her and would never make her feel unwanted.

  But going home meant she’d be going back to being the daughter of a murderer.

  No matter which way she turned, she couldn’t escape.

  A knock came at her door, and she lifted her head.

  “Paige?”

  Jasmine’s voice came through the wood, and Paige’s heart lifted. She had come! Then it dropped again as she considered the possibility that she might have brought Lucas with her.

  “Paige, I know you’re in there. Answer me, please. I’m worried about you.”

  Paige forced herself to sitting, though she felt sick with anticipation about the conversation that lay ahead.

  “Are you on your own?” she called out, her voice weak from crying.

  “Yes, I’m on my own. Now let me in.”

  Paige climbed off the bed and went to the door. She unlocked it and then stepped back to allow Jasmine through.

  Jas walked in, her smooth forehead furrowed with worry. “Are you okay? What’s happened?”

  Paige’s legs weren’t strong enough to hold her up, and she dropped to sitting on the edge of her bed. She opened her mouth to speak, though she was still unsure of what she was even going to say, but instead of speaking, she burst into tears again.

  Instantly, Jasmine sat beside her on the bed, her arm around her shoulders. “Oh my God, Paige. Why are you so upset? Was it the memorial? Were you upset about Adam? I didn’t think you even knew him that well.”

  Paige managed to shake her head, but she couldn’t stop crying enough to speak. Or maybe it was simply that she knew when she did stop crying, she was going to have to make a decision about whether or not she should tell Jasmine the truth. She was going to blow up her friend’s life almost as badly as she had her own.

  “Please, Paige!” Jas begged, tears shimmering in her wide blue eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

  Paige hunched over, the heels of her hand pressed into her eyes. “I can’t. You don’t understand. I can’t tell you.”

  “So, make me understand. Come on, we’re supposed to be best friends here. If I was this upset about something, I’m sure you’d want me to tell you, wouldn’t you? Whatever it is, we can fix it. We’ll make it better, I promise.”

  Paige shook her head. “It’s never going to get better.”

  “There’s always a way to help, even if it’s just telling me about it.” She touched the back of Paige’s hand lightly, and Paige jumped at the contact. “What is that saying? A problem shared is a problem halved.”

  Paige sniffed. “It’s only going to be halved because it becomes your problem as well.”

  Jas shrugged. “So? I’m a big girl. I can handle it. And it’s kind of my problem now, anyway, cause I’m stupidly worried about you, and I won’t stop being worried about you until you tell me what’s wrong, so you might as well tell me.”

  Paige looked up at her friend and sucked in a breath. How could she even consider doing this? The knowledge would destroy her, and it would certainly destroy her relationship with Lucas, whether Jas chose to believe her or not. Even if she decided Paige was lying, there would still always be that question in the back of her mind. If s
he stood by Lucas, it would grind the relationship down to nothing eventually. But how could she not tell her? Jasmine had the right to know who her boyfriend was. That he’d raped her best friend! Paige knew she would want to know if the person she was seeing was capable of such violence.

  What about Adam Humphries? What if it wasn’t Lucas who hurt him? What if I was so screwed up about the rape that I took it out on Adam, but blocked it out like I did the rape? Am I also capable of such violence?

  “It—” she started, her voice breaking. “It’s about Lucas.”

  Jasmine dropped her hand from Paige’s. “Lucas? What are you talking about?”

  “Do you remember the night we all went to the union and were doing Jägershots at the bar?”

  She nodded. “The night Adam Humphries was killed?”

  Paige winced. “Yes, that night.”

  “What about it?”

  “I left the bar on my own. I was really drunk. I don’t think I realised how drunk until I started walking. Then I heard someone come up behind me, and I turned around, and Lucas was there. He started talking to me, making out like I’d been flirting with him. He—he said he wanted to come back to my room with me...”

  Her cheeks burned hot, and shame filled her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Jas, already knowing the horror she’d see in her friend’s face.

  Jasmine shook her head. “I mean, I wish you’d told me sooner that the two of you had a thing going. But I guess me and Lucas hadn’t really got together properly then.”

  Jasmine was doing her best to be understanding, where Paige knew a lot of girls would have screamed at her that she was a betraying bitch and have walked out of the room by now. She just wished that was all she had to say.

  “No, Jas, you don’t understand. I haven’t told you what happened yet. I wasn’t interested in Lucas. I knew you liked him. I told him that I didn’t want him coming back to my room with me, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. And I was really drunk, I mean, could barely stand up drunk, and I stumbled, and he kind of grabbed me, like he was trying to help me, but then he wouldn’t let go.”

  She dared to glance up at Jas’s face. Her eyes were wide with dismay, her nostrils flared.

  “What are you saying, Paige?”

  “I tried to push him off, but he punched me in the nose.”

  Jasmine gasped. “What? Lucas wouldn’t do that!”

  “Don’t you remember how I said I’d fallen on the stairs and banged my face? I lied. At the time, I didn’t remember—or maybe I didn’t want to remember—so that was what I told you, but it wasn’t the truth.”

  “No.” Jas shook her head. “No.”

  Paige had got this far, so she figured she might as well finish. “He punched me and then he spun me around and pushed me up against the wall where the bushes are. And then he pulled my underwear down and he—he raped me.”

  Jasmine staggered back to her feet. “Lucas wouldn’t do that. I know him! He wouldn’t rape someone!”

  “I’m sorry, Jas, but he did. He raped me.”

  “Why didn’t you make him stop? Why didn’t you shout for help or fight him back or something?”

  “I couldn’t. I froze. I just stood there and waited for it to be over.”

  “Maybe you gave him the wrong idea. Maybe he thought you’d said yes.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “He punched me in the face, Jasmine. He knew I didn’t say yes.”

  “You said yourself you were really drunk. Maybe you don’t remember right. I mean, if you’ve only just remembered what actually happened, maybe your memory is all wrong.”

  “I know you want to believe that, but I would be lying if I thought that was the case.”

  “Then you need to go to the police!”

  Her blood ran cold at the mention of the police. They’d already been here, asking questions about why her phone had been found in the bushes. They’d taken her dress as evidence, and Paige had given them the wrong dress, as though she was trying to cover up her crime. She remembered the blood that had been all over her clothes and sheets. Had it all been hers? What if something had happened after Lucas had left her? Maybe Adam Humphries had tried to help her, and she’d thought he was Lucas and she’d snapped and hit him with the brick?

  She didn’t want to go to prison. The police would look into who her father was and realise that she had it in her this whole time. They’d understand that she wasn’t just a normal teenager who’d been trying to start a new life, but was the daughter of a violent man who was growing up to be exactly the same as he was.

  “I can’t,” she whispered. Her fingers knotted together like bindweed, blurring through the cloud of tears. “I just can’t.”

  “So, you expect me to believe you, but you won’t even go to the police? Come on, Paige? What the fuck am I supposed to think?”

  “I didn’t want to tell you. You said a problem shared—”

  “Yeah, well, it really is my problem, isn’t it? ’Cause now I have to go and ask my boyfriend if he raped my best friend!”

  Paige’s head shot up. “No! You can’t say anything to him. Please, Jas!”

  “I can’t not say anything. I need to hear his side of the story!”

  Paige reached for Jas, trying to stop her friend, but Jasmine shook her off and stormed from the room, slamming the door after her.

  Shaking badly, her heart pounding, Paige stared at the closed door. She couldn’t go after Jasmine. Nothing she could say or do would change anything. She’d told Jasmine the truth, hadn’t she?

  I didn’t tell her about the blood, about not knowing what had happened with Adam.

  That was different. Adam didn’t have anything to do with Lucas, did he?

  Paige realised she had no choice.

  What if Lucas did this to someone else? What if he did it to Jasmine and Paige had never done anything to stop it? How would she ever forgive herself? This wasn’t just about her anymore.

  She remembered the card the detective had given her after she’d asked about the phone. Maybe the police would let her have her phone back now she could explain why it was in the bushes, and that it hadn’t had anything to do with Adam Humphries’ murder—she didn’t think, anyway. But then she realised the phone would be part of a new investigation now—an investigation into a rape instead of a murder. She knew how these things went. After the whole hashtag me-too movement, the treatment of rape victims had been well publicised. She would have her reputation and background dragged through the court. She would be questioned about her clothes and how much she drank. She’d be told that she hadn’t fought back hard enough, or that she must have given him the wrong idea. Her injuries had already healed for the most part, and they’d be explained away. Maybe Lucas would say that she liked it rough, that she’d begged for it. Maybe he’d claim that the only reason she was saying it was rape was because she felt guilty for having sex with her friend’s boyfriend.

  Yes, she was going to be called a liar and probably a slut, but she still had to do it.

  Paige found the detective’s card and called the number.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Erica had just come back from lunch when her phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number.

  “DI Swift.”

  A girl’s voice was on the other end, broken and hitched, as though she’d been crying. “Hello? I don’t know if you remember me. My name is Paige Arland.”

  Erica dropped into her seat at her desk. “Miss Arland. Yes, of course I remember you. Is everything all right?”

  “No, not really. I need to tell you something.”

  Erica sat up straighter. “Is it to do with Adam Humphries’ death?”

  “No...well, maybe.” The girl let out a breathy sob. “Honestly, I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

  “Okay. Where are you?”

  “I’m in my room on campus.”

  “Stay where you are. I’ll come and get you.”

  “No!” Her tone grew
panicked. “Please don’t. I don’t want all the other students to see. This is going to be hard enough without them all talking again. I’ll jump on the Tube and come to you.”

  “You know where we are?”

  “Yes, I do. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “I’ll watch out for you.”

  The call ended, and Erica set down the phone.

  Shawn was staring at her from across the desk. “That sounded interesting.”

  “Paige Arland has suddenly thought of something she needs to tell us. She says it’s not about the case, but I’m not so sure. I wonder if it has something to do with her giving us the wrong dress, or if this sudden need to talk to us had anything to do with Adam’s memorial at the university. She’s coming into the station, so I’m going to wait for her at the front desk and bring her straight through to an interview room. Do you want to sit in on it?”

  Shawn nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

  Erica went out to the front desk and watched the doors for Paige.

  Twenty minutes later, the young woman pushed through into the station. She looked around and spotted Erica immediately. She seemed huddled into herself, her head down, her shoulders rounded, as though she was trying to hide from everyone. As though she was trying to vanish.

  What did she know?

  Erica rounded the front desk to greet her. “Miss Arland, thank you for coming down.”

  The girl gave a weak smile. “I prefer Paige.”

  “Of course. Come this way, and we’ll find somewhere private to talk. Do you mind if DS Turner joins us? You remember him? You met before.”

  “I guess not.”

  Her attitude was as subdued as her body language, and concern filled Erica. Had she been threatened in some way? Someone trying to keep her quiet, perhaps? Or was she here to confess to Adam’s murder? Perhaps the guilt had become too much.

  Interview room one was free, so she showed her into that.