by Sally Rigby
‘Situations like what?’ Whitney asked.
‘I’m not stupid. I study law. I know when there’s been a murder the most likely culprit is someone close to the victim.’
‘Mr Harris. We’ll be speaking to everyone who knows Millie. Including you. Now, I can assure you at the moment all we want to do is talk. If you believe it’s in your best interest to call a solicitor, by all means do so. I don’t have time to waste, as I have a press conference to attend. So, what’s it to be?’ She locked eyes with him, and he shifted awkwardly in his seat.
‘Let’s get on with it,’ he finally replied. ‘I just want you to find the bastard who did this to Millie.’
‘Thank you. I’d like to confirm you’re here voluntarily. You’re not under caution and can leave at any time. This interview will be recorded for our records.’ She turned on the recording equipment. ‘DCI Walker, DS Price, and Nathan Harris, Monday fourth November. Mr Harris, please confirm for the record you are here of your own volition to answer our questions.’
‘I confirm,’ Harris said.
‘Thank you. Nathan, please could you tell me how long you’ve known Millie Carter?’ She’d start with the easy questions, so he’d relax a bit.
‘I’d noticed her for a couple of years, from around campus. I didn’t actually get to speak to her until about a month ago when we got together one evening in the student bar.’
‘Had you been wanting to get to know her before then?’ Had he been fixated on her for years and then finally managed to get her to go out with him? Or perhaps she’d finished with him, and he couldn’t take it.
‘I suppose so,’ Harris replied.
‘Is that a yes?’ Whitney asked.
‘I’d always liked her but didn’t think I stood a chance.’ Harris looked down at the table.
‘Why not?’ Whitney pushed.
‘The other guys I’d seen Millie with were all taller than me. I thought short guys wouldn’t be her type. In case you hadn’t realised, I’m at least six inches shorter than she is.’
‘How did that make you feel?’
‘Frustrated.’
‘And how did you deal with this frustration?’
‘I don’t understand the question.’
‘Did you get angry? Did you hang around Millie trying to get her to notice you?’
‘No. I didn’t need to.’
‘Why not?’
‘Mutual friends introduced us, and we got on really well. When I asked her out, she said yes. My height didn’t come into it.’
‘So, when you finally got together, how did you feel?’ she probed.
‘Good. It was good. Especially once we started seeing each other regularly.’ He leaned forward in the chair, resting his arms on the table. His eyes glazed over with tears, and he blinked them away.
‘How often did you see each other?’ Matt asked.
‘We’d meet for lunch on the days we were both at uni and saw each other most nights. Millie would come around to my house. She preferred it there,’ Harris replied.
‘Why?’ she asked.
‘It was quieter because my flatmates usually go out. We’d get the house to ourselves.’
‘When was the last time you saw her?’
‘That’s the thing.’ He shifted around in his seat. ‘I haven’t seen her since Friday. We met for lunch, as usual, and agreed to see each other on the Saturday afternoon, as she was going out with her friends that evening. But she didn’t turn up.’ His bottom lip quivered. ‘I can’t help thinking if I’d tried harder to find her or called the police, she might still be alive.’
‘What did you do when she didn’t turn up?’ she asked.
‘I called several times and left messages. After she didn’t respond, I thought she didn’t want to see me anymore.’
‘All it took was a couple of unanswered calls and messages for you to think it was over. I find that hard to believe. She could have had an accident. Been detained. Lost her phone. Didn’t you consider any of these? And what about her friends? Why didn’t you ask them?’ His story didn’t add up. What was he hiding?
‘Well. We sort of … sort of. We—’
‘What are you trying to tell me?’ Her heart skipped a beat. She was onto something.
‘At lunch on Friday, we had an argument. Millie stormed off.’
‘What did you argue about?’ She locked eyes with him, but he averted his gaze after a couple of seconds.
‘I didn’t want her going out with her friends,’ he mumbled.
‘Why not?’
‘I thought she’d hook up with someone.’
‘Had she done that before?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘But you didn’t trust her.’
‘You’ve seen her. You’ve seen me. Of course I didn’t. She was way out of my league.’ His voice wobbled.
Such insecurity. But did that make him a murderer?
‘What did you do after she left you on Friday lunchtime?’
‘I texted her to say sorry, but she didn’t reply. Then I went to class, and after I went home.’
‘And on the Saturday, you tried to contact her again.’
‘Yes. I’ve already said so.’
‘Do you have your mobile with you?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Why?’
‘I want to see a record of the texts and calls you made.’
He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and slid it across the table. Whitney’s eyes travelled down the list of texts. He was telling the truth.
She gave him back the phone.
‘Thanks,’ he replied.
‘What did you do on Saturday night, once you’d decided Millie had finished with you?’ she asked.
‘I went out with friends for a drink.’
‘What time did you get home?’ Whitney asked.
‘I don’t know. I got totally shit-faced. I don’t remember anything until Sunday afternoon, when I woke up fully clothed on top of my bed.’
Whitney refrained from giving a lecture about consuming so much alcohol it caused a blackout.
‘Where are the clothes you were wearing?’ she asked.
‘In my room,’ he replied. ‘Why?’
‘Have you washed them?’ she continued.
‘No. I only do my washing once a week, if that.’
Whitney winced at the thought of how smelly his room must be, full of dirty washing. Still, his poor hygiene could be their good fortune.
‘We’d like them for forensics, to eliminate you from our enquiries, if you don’t object?’ She could insist, but it was better to have his continued cooperation.
‘Fine.’
‘What exactly were you wearing? My officers can pick them up from your house,’ Whitney asked.
‘Blue check shirt, jeans, and a cream jumper,’ he replied.
‘Your underwear?’ Whitney asked.
‘I’m still wearing my boxers,’ he replied, lowering his head sheepishly.
‘We’ll need them, too.’ Thank goodness she had a girl and not a boy. Tiffany, if anything, was over the top clean. She only had to wear something once and it was in the dirty washing basket. ‘I’ll ask my officers to bring you some underpants and socks. Do we have permission to go into your room?’
‘Yes,’ he replied.
Whitney pulled out her phone and texted Frank, asking him to bring in the clothes and saying they had permission to enter Harris’s room.
‘Thank you. You say you don’t remember anything about Saturday night. Who were you with?’
‘My flatmates.’
‘And they can vouch for you, from Saturday through to Sunday night?’ Matt asked.
‘I think so. You’ll have to ask them,’ he replied.
‘We will. I’d like you to tell me where you and Millie went over the last couple of weeks. I’m assuming you didn’t stay in all the time?’
Harris sat thinking for a few moments. ‘We stayed in most evenings, but two weeks ago, on the
Saturday night, we went to a concert at a pub in town.’
‘Who was the band?’ Whitney asked.
‘Dogbone.’
She’d never even heard of them. She must be old. ‘Were you on your own?’
‘No. A group of us went. The week after, we went out on the Wednesday night to the student union, as it was half-price beer night. Then, apart from lunches, we didn’t go out until last Saturday, when we went to a birthday party in town.’
‘Whose party?’ she asked.
‘Twins called Henry and Harriet. I don’t know them well. One of Millie’s friends invited us. There must have been over a hundred people there. We didn’t stay long because Millie started a migraine.’
‘Were you annoyed at having to leave?’ Whitney asked.
‘No. Why would I be?’
‘I’m just asking. When did you see Millie this week?’ Whitney asked.
‘We had lunch on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. We went out Wednesday night, and that’s it. Is there anything else you need to know? Can I go home?’
‘For now. We’ll let you have your clothes back once forensics have finished with them. We may wish to question you again, so don’t leave the area.’
‘I’m meant to be going home to see my parents in two weeks.’
‘That’s okay,’ she replied, making a note of it on the file. ‘Other than that, make sure you stay in Lenchester.’
‘But…’
‘This isn’t up for negotiation. We’re dealing with Millie’s murder, and we will do everything we can do catch whoever did it. If our investigation happens to put you out, then deal with it.’
Chapter Eight
‘Stop. I’m begging you. Stop. Please. Why are you doing this to me? Let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I just want to go home. Let me go home. I want my mum.’
I rewind the tape.
I must have watched the “Millie Carter Experience” at least twenty times. It’s so good.
I never tire of it. There’s always something different to capture my attention.
Everything is recorded, starting from our contrived meeting in town, to how easy it was to persuade her to come back to the house. And the look on her face when she finally realised what she’d got herself into. When she understood there was only one way this was going to end.
It was utter perfection.
But it didn’t stop the stupid girl begging me to stop.
Or promising to keep it a secret.
Did she really believe I’d fall for it? What an idiot.
If you ask me to choose my favourite bit, it would have to be the way her face distorted as my hand tightened around her neck and she drew her last breath.
That feeling of having control over a human life. To be the one who determines whether they should live or die. Wow.
Millie Carter was a great choice. She was so easy to play. Because playing is what it’s all about. It’s one big elaborate game. I made her think it would soon be over, that I’d let her go. There were times when she even started to believe me.
What a weekend it was.
She went from trying to appeal to my nicer side, to being angry.
She writhed in agony during the sex. Then cried after.
I saw every side of her.
Except she didn’t laugh much. Actually, not at all.
She was told not to shout out, but when the post was pushed through the letter box, the dumb bitch did. Then the duct tape stayed on, apart from when I fed her.
Her favourite food was jelly and ice cream with sprinkles, so I gave it to her. It was the least I could do, knowing it would be her last ever meal.
She spat it out, the ungrateful slag. I forced it down her throat. She wasn’t getting one over on me.
The only thing that didn’t go to plan was how quickly she was found. Too quickly, really. My plan, which I believed was meticulous, had been for students to find her during morning break or at lunchtime, when the location was most populated, especially by couples who often go by the river for a session. I wanted to give them a session to remember. I even ensured she couldn’t be seen from the path.
What was someone doing there, so early in the morning? Funnily enough, I’d gone down to check at nine, before class, and couldn’t believe the police were already milling around. Millie had only been there a few hours.
Next time I’ll make sure everything goes to plan.
And there will be a next time.
I can’t even begin to describe the high I was on the entire weekend. Everything seemed lighter. Fun. Exciting. At times, it was almost too much to bear. Until the pinnacle. The moment her life was hanging by a thread, and I was the one to determine when the thread broke. I controlled, to the very second, when she expelled her last breath. Have I already mentioned that? Whatever. It’s worth repeating.
Because when it happened, my head exploded like there were a thousand fireworks going up simultaneously. Lighting up my brain with a million watts. It was fucking awesome.
Then she was gone. And I came back down from paradise. Although I had a brief reprise when I laid out the body, in that special way. I wanted to show her begging for mercy. Mercy she wasn’t granted.
Anyway, who to pick next? It took a while to decide Millie was the perfect specimen. She was my first, so it was important to get it right. Millie was chosen because she always came across as being fun and up for a good time. She reminded me of my mother, those times when my father wasn’t there. Then everything changed. Nothing was right when he was home. But when he wasn’t, Mum was great, and we always had a good time with her. She’d take us sightseeing. We moved around a lot, so there was always plenty to see.
Millie wasn’t such fun while she was here. So maybe the likeness was a tenuous one. If she’d been more cooperative, she might still be alive.
No, she wouldn’t. I’m just kidding. I make myself laugh, sometimes, I’m so funny.
Anyway, back to my next plaything. I’m thinking she should be someone totally different from Millie. This time I’d like someone small and cute. Preferably with short dark hair and freckles. There are a few girls I can choose from.
I pick up my phone from the table and hit the photo button. Flicking through all the photos on there, I’m pleasantly surprised by the number of potential prospects. I take a lot of pictures, always have done. It’s easy to do on campus because no one takes any notice. Just another kid taking a selfie.
After going through the gallery, a couple of girls stand out. One, especially, has all the attributes I’m looking for. We have friends in common, so luring her in will be easy enough. The luring bit doesn’t excite me as much as everything else, so the easier that can be, the better.
Shivers shoot down my spine.
I’d better make my plans. Everything has to be just so. First of all, I need to find out what food she likes best. And I know exactly who can help me.
Chapter Nine
Whitney pushed her dinner around the plate, hardly eating anything. They’d come to a brick wall with the Carter murder. It had been almost two weeks since the body was found, and Jamieson was breathing down her neck about it. Everyone knew the more time progressed the harder it would be to find the perp. The only new thing they’d learnt was Millie had ketamine in her system. The trouble was, ketamine was so readily available, they had no idea where it had come from.
Despite their questioning and the scrutiny of all available CCTV cameras, there was no new evidence. It was like she’d disappeared off the face of the earth after Friday lunchtime. She hadn’t gone out with her friends as planned, but that hadn’t worried them because she was known for being unreliable. They’d assumed she’d decided to stay with Nathan for the weekend. There was nothing incriminating on Harris’s clothing, or in his room, which didn’t totally eliminate him, but made him much less likely to be guilty.
She glanced up at Tiffany, who was also sitting quietly staring at her dinner. She’d been neglecting her, and it didn�
��t sit right. Her daughter was her life and didn’t deserve that.
‘I’m sorry I’ve been so distant recently. It’s this bloody case. It’s going nowhere, fast. Let’s do something together at the weekend. Your choice.’
She couldn’t remember the last time they’d hung out together, work had got so demanding. Not just the murder but the screw-up case before, too. Not to mention all the paperwork she had to do. It was getting to the stage when she had to complete a form to request permission to complete a form.
‘If you like.’
Not the answer she’d expected.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Not really.’
‘What is it?’
‘I still keep thinking about Millie Carter. I’ve never known anyone to be murdered before.’
Tiffany’s anguished face stared across at her. How come she didn’t know Tiffany had connections with Millie? Tiffany shared everything with her. Didn’t she?
‘Most people don’t, love. How well did you know her?’
‘Not very. But that hasn’t stopped me thinking about it.’
‘It’s a totally normal response. I wish you’d told me. I hate to see you upset like this.’
‘I know how busy you are at work, and I didn’t want to worry you.’
She’d spent very little time at home recently and hardly had time to say more than a couple of sentences to Tiffany when they bumped into each other.
‘I’m sorry. But you know, you always come first, so don’t ever think you can’t speak to me.’ She picked up her glass of water and took a sip.
‘What happened to Millie, it’s so awful. It’s still all anyone can talk about at uni. Do you think there’ll be another murder?’
The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. She hoped not, but her gut was telling her otherwise. The murderer was still out there. And if he could do it once …
‘We’ve no reason to think there will be, so try not to worry. We’ll find the person who did this. You have my word. But just to be safe, I want you to promise not to go anywhere alone, especially at night. Not until we have the killer locked up.’
‘I never do. You’ve drilled that into me from an early age.’ Tiffany smiled.
