“A bit. Sometimes. Just a little bit, though. Nothing major.”
“What about Boulton Hall? Was Jenson selling drugs there?”
Will returned Mo’s gaze. “He might’ve been.”
“Who to? Undergraduates?”
“The place is full of fucking undergraduates.”
“So that’s a yes, then.”
“You’d have to ask Jenson.” The man curled his lip. “Oh no, you can’t, cos he’s dead.”
“Trust me, Will,” said Mo. “If we find out where Jenson got his drugs, it puts us closer to finding the person that killed him.”
“He weren’t killed by his dealer, if that’s what you think.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“And you know that how?”
“Cos I saw him talking to someone.”
Mo’s skin prickled. “Who? Why didn’t you tell us this yesterday?”
“Only remembered this morning. He was out front, chatting to some girl.”
“A woman?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“I dunno. About ten-thirty. She seemed pissed off.”
“Was she a student? Did you recognise her?”
“Sorry, mate. I’ve got net curtains, and it was dark. Their voices were muffled, like.”
“Did your girlfriend see this?”
“Shonda was in the loo. I was looking out the window, having a fag. Waiting for her to get back.”
“You’re sure you can’t remember what she looked like?”
“I saw silhouettes. Heard low voices. That’s all I got. Sorry.”
Chapter Seventy-Six
Zoe drove to the office, her fingers drumming the steering wheel. She struggled to pay attention to the road, so focused was she on the silent presence of her back-seat passenger.
They weren’t arresting Kayla, so in theory she was free to go. But placing her under caution meant anything she said could be used as evidence.
At last they arrived at the station. Zoe found a parking spot and watched the uniformed officer guide Kayla inside. Zoe sprinted to catch up with them, arriving just as Kayla was being checked in.
“Thanks, guys. I’ll take it from here.” She turned to Kayla. “We’ll go into an interview room and ask you some questions. The interview will be recorded and you have a right to a copy of the tape. Does that make sense?”
“Do I need a lawyer?”
“You are entitled to a lawyer. But you’re not under arrest, Kayla.”
Kayla was pale, her forehead beaded with sweat. She carried a rucksack which she held in front of her, her fingers stroking the handle.
“OK. I’ll answer your questions.”
Zoe gave her a smile. “Thanks. Come with me.” She gestured towards an interview room.
The PC who’d come with her to Boulton Hall, PC Jenks, followed them in. Zoe considered calling Dawson, like he’d asked her too. She’d get this done wick, he’d never know.
Inside, Zoe pointed out where Kayla should sit and turned on the tape recorder.
“Thanks for agreeing to this interview, Kayla. I need to ask you some more questions about Laurence Thomms and Jenson Begg.” She recited the standard words of the police caution.
Kayla stared back at her, unblinking.
“Can we get you a drink? Water? Cup of tea?”
“Water, please.”
“One moment.” Zoe poked her head out of the door and asked the duty sergeant to bring in a glass of water.
“Right, it won’t be long,” she told Kayla. “Are you OK to get started?”
“You said you’d have me back on campus in an hour. I’ve got a lecture at eleven.”
Zoe glanced at the clock: quarter past ten. This would be tight. “I’ll do my best.”
Kayla nodded. She still held her rucksack. She’d placed it on her lap and was clutching the straps. Her knuckles were white.
The door opened and the sergeant came in with a plastic cup of water. She gave Zoe a questioning look. Zoe nodded towards Kayla and the sergeant placed it in front of her.
“Thanks.” Kayla picked up the cup and drank greedily. She wiped her lips and placed it back down.
“Right,” said Zoe. “Let’s start with Jenson.” Hopefully this would be less contentious. “Can you tell me about your relationship with him?”
“We were going out.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“Only I’ve been told you weren’t really going out as such. Just staying in, really.”
Kayla blushed. “It was a passionate relationship.”
Zoe smiled. “Nothing wrong with that. But were you officially dating? Did other people know about it?”
Kayla gripped the plastic cup. Water splashed onto the table. “People knew.”
“Which people?”
“Lin. The people in Jenson’s house.”
“No one else?”
A shrug. “You don’t have to go trumpeting it to the world just because you’re in love with someone.”
“Did Jenson ask you not to tell people about your relationship?”
“Who told you that?”
“Answer the question, Kayla.”
“He thought the warden would have a downer on it. Abuse of power, shit like that.” Kayla looked up at Zoe. “I consented. He never coerced me.”
“I never suggested he did.”
“Good.”
“What made you say that?”
Kayla frowned. “You’re twisting my words.”
“Kayla, did Jenson ever force you into anything you didn’t want to do? Did he make you have sex with him? Did he force you to take drugs?”
“No.” Kayla placed her hands in her lap, one clutching the other.
“Did he sell you drugs?”
“No.”
“I’m not going to arrest you for taking drugs. Are you sure he didn’t sell them to you?”
“He gave them to me.”
“For free?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he do that?”
Kayla’s gaze was steady. “Because he loved me, maybe?”
“Or because he preferred you when you weren’t fully in command of yourself.”
“Jenson cared about me.”
“Like he cared about all his students.”
Kayla swigged from the cup of water and crumpled it up. She left it on the table.
“Was Jenson sleeping with any other undergraduates?”
“I don’t see why that’s relevant.”
“So he was.”
“I didn’t say that. There’s no law against having…”
“I know this is hard, Kayla. You loved him, you’ve told me that. But I believe that Jenson was manipulating people with whom he was in a position of trust.”
Kayla shook her head. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
Zoe sighed. Kayla was protecting Jenson. Maybe she wouldn’t be so quick to defend Laurence.
“OK, let’s move on to Laurence, then.”
“What about him?”
“In your witness statement, you said that you were going to knock on Laurence’s door ten minutes earlier than you did, but you decided not to. Why was that?”
“He was a creep. We didn’t want to talk to him.”
“You, or Lin?”
“Both of us.”
Zoe leaned back. “According to your statement, it was you who told Lin to start at a different room.”
Kayla pulled at her sleeve. “Yeah.”
Zoe watched the young woman’s face. Had Kayla considered that if she hadn’t done that, Laurence might have still been alive when they went in there?
“How do you feel about that decision now?”
Kayla shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Tell me why you thought of Laurence as a creep.”
“Everyone thought the same. It’s cos he was.”
“What happened to give him that reputation
?”
“Becca.”
“The alleged rape.”
“Yeah.”
“Was Becca his only victim?”
“How should I know who else that bastard tried it on with?”
Zoe eyed Kayla. The girl really hated Laurence. It felt like it was more than because of Becca. Was this personal?
“When did you find out about Laurence allegedly raping Becca?”
“After she reported it.”
“She reported it to Jenson, as her residential tutor?”
“Yeah.”
“And he told you.”
“Yea— no. I just heard it.”
“You’re not going to get Jenson into trouble, Kayla. Did he tell you about Becca?”
Kayla sighed. “He did. Not till after he’d talked to Dr Edwards, though.”
Well at least that’s something, Zoe thought.
“Did he tell anyone else, apart from you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“So just you. He confided in you.”
Kayla puffed out her chest. “He did.”
“Any reason why he might have told you?”
“He was my boyfriend. We talked a lot.”
“Did he tell you because Laurence had attacked you too?”
“He might ha— I mean, no. He told me because we talked a lot.”
“But he might have told you because of what Laurence did to you?”
Kayla stared back across the table. Zoe said nothing, leaving empty space for the young woman to fill.
“I didn’t make a formal complaint. I just told him.”
“You told Jenson that Laurence had assaulted you?”
A nod.
“And what did Jenson say when you told him?”
“He said… he said without any evidence, it would be my word against Laurence’s.”
“So you didn’t make a complaint?”
Kayla looked into her lap. “No.”
“When did this happen?”
“November,” Kayla muttered.
“Did you tell anyone else?”
Kayla shook her head. A tear dripped from the end of her nose. Zoe grabbed a box of tissues and held it out.
Kayla took the box, not looking up. “Don’t tell anyone, alright?”
“Why don’t you want me to tell anyone?”
“I should’ve reported it. He might not have… you know.”
“He might not have raped Becca.”
Kayla sniffed. She nodded.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yeah.” Kayla blew her nose. “Can I go to my lecture now?”
Zoe softened. “We won’t be much longer, I promise.”
Another sniff. Kayla balled up a tissue, shoved it up her sleeve, and grabbed another one.
“Why do you think Jenson told you not to report Laurence?”
Kayla looked up. Her eyes were puffy and red. “I told you. He said I had no evidence.”
“Evidence doesn’t always have to be physical, Kayla. Sometimes there are witnesses you don’t know about. Sometimes there are forensics you aren’t aware of. And sometimes, if there’s been another victim…”
“I know that, don’t I? I fucking know it. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have raped Becca, and he wouldn’t be dead.”
“You think he died because of what happened with Becca?”
“Course he did. Everyone hated him. He didn’t take drugs, someone forced them on him. Didn’t they?”
“Do you have any idea where that someone might have got hold of the drugs to do that?”
Kayla shrank back. “No.”
“Not from Jenson?”
Kayla clenched her fists. She pulled the rucksack closer. “No.”
“Kayla, do you have any idea if someone might have wanted to kill Jenson?”
“He died of an overdose. It was an accident.”
“That’s not what we believe now.”
Kayla’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“We have evidence suggesting he was murdered. Who might have wanted to kill him?”
The redness had left Kayla’s cheeks. She was the palest Zoe had seen her. “I don’t. I really don’t.”
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Connie parked her bike outside the office where the Forensics Scene Management team were based. It was only three miles from Harborne and the journey had taken her twenty minutes: probably faster than it would in a car. There were no bike racks, so she had to find a lamp post.
She took a deep breath and approached the door, checking her reflection in the glass before she pushed it open. Her hair was frizzy today; she wished she’d put oil in it last night.
She sniffed and went inside. A young blonde woman sat at the reception desk, gazing at a computer screen.
“Hi, I’m Detective Constable Williams.” Connie showed her ID. “Here to see the FSIs.”
“First floor, on the left. I’ll get someone to come down for you.”
“It’s OK, I’ve been up there before,” Connie lied. “I know my way.”
The woman shrugged. “Fair enough.” She pressed a button and the security barrier slid back.
“Thanks.” Connie shot her a grin but the woman was back at her screen.
Connie took the stairs two at a time, regretting her eagerness when she got to the top. She was out of breath and probably sweating.
She paused in a spot where the receptionist wouldn’t be able to see her from below, hidden from anyone beyond the glazed door into the FMS office. She took a few deep breaths, licked her lips and told herself to stop being so pathetic.
She knocked on the door and pushed it open without waiting for a response. She found herself in an open plan space with a bank of desks closest to her and workstations beyond it. Two white-suited techs stood at the workstations and three people sat at the desks. One of them was Rav.
He looked up and grinned when he saw her. She felt her heart leap.
“Connie.”
“Hi, Rav. You OK?”
“I’m good, thanks.” He leaned back in his chair, swinging it back and forth. “What can we do for you?”
“My boss has told me to come over here, make sure we get the results from the sampling as soon as they’re in.”
He had a lopsided smile that put a dimple in the centre of his right cheek. “No pressure, eh?”
“Sorry. You know what it’s like.”
Rav stood up. “Come on. We’re making good progress.”
He led her to the workstations and the two techs. One of them removed a mask. It was Yala.
“Hi, Yala.” Connie felt awkward. Could Yala tell she’d been flirting with Rav?
Had she been flirting with Rav, or had she just been acting like an idiot?
“Connie. Are you psychic, or something?” Yala asked.
“Er, no.” Connie’s gaze flitted to the workstation. Yala had been working on the DNA swabs. “Does that mean you’ve got something?”
“We have.”
“OK.”
Yala looked past Connie at Rav. “Haven’t you got work to do?”
Connie could feel Rav’s arm just centimetres from hers. She held herself very still, nervous of making contact.
Rav nudged Connie. “See you later, huh?”
Connie felt heat prick her cheeks. “Er, yeah.” She kept her gaze on Yala, who was suppressing a smile.
When Rav was back at his desk, Yala leaned in towards Connie. “He’s cute, isn’t he?”
“Sorry? I don’t know what…”
“It’s OK. I don’t blame you. He broke up with his girlfriend two weeks ago, she moved to Edinburgh or something. Field’s clear.”
“I don’t…” Connie wanted the floor to eat her up. “What about the DNA results?”
“Oh, those.” Yala pushed a stray hair behind her ear and turned back to a computer screen. “Afraid we don’t have a match between any of the samples we took yesterday and the DNA found inside Laurence’s mouth.”
“So I thought I’d check another sample.”
“Oh?”
“Jenson Begg. We have plenty of DNA from his murder scene.” Yala flashed her eyes at Connie. “We got a match.”
“A match between one of the students and the Jenson Begg scene?”
“No.” Yala bit her lip. “Between Jenson Begg and the inside of Laurence Thomms’s mouth. It’s his DNA that was left at the first scene.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Zoe dropped Kayla off outside the English department. Her phone rang.
“Mo, how’d it go at the house?”
“Interestingly. We spoke to one of the people living there, he says he saw a woman with Jenson not long before he died.”
“Any particular woman?”
“He couldn’t say. She was outside and he was looking through his net curtains, which I have to say are bloody grubby.”
“What time did he see this woman?”
“Ten thirty. He said she was pissed off, arguing with Jenson.”
“Could it have been Kayla?” Zoe looked towards the English building, wishing she still had Kayla with her.
“He says he’d have recognised her. He didn’t know this woman.”
“And he can’t remember anything about her?”
“Sorry. A pissed-off woman.”
“That boot print wasn’t large. Could have been a woman.”
“It could.”
“I’ve just spoken to Kayla,” Zoe said. “She seemed genuinely shocked when I told her we were treating Jenson’s death as suspicious.”
“You believed her?”
She considered. “I did, yeah. So I don’t think she was the woman anyway. Or if she was, she didn’t hang around, wasn’t the one who killed him.”
“We need to work through the timeline for Jenson’s evening.”
“Have you spoken to the rest of the people in the house?”
“Two guys in the upstairs rooms. Both out last night.”
“Typical. What about the woman downstairs?”
“Her boyfriend says she was in the loo when he saw this woman.”
“Still. She might have seen her come inside, or approach the house.”
“We’ll track her down.”
Zoe’s phone beeped. “It’s Connie. She might have the sampling results.”
“I’ll wait.”
“Yeah.” Zoe pulled her phone from her ear and frowned at it. She wasn’t sure how to take Connie’s call without cutting Mo off.
Deadly Reprisal (Detective Zoe Finch Book 5) Page 23
