Читать книгу Truth or Die - Katerina Diamond, Katerina Diamond - Страница 11

‘Please state your name for the tape,’ Imogen said. She had barely got into work when she was informed about the young girl waiting to be processed and questioned.

‘Caitlin Watts,’ the girl said, not looking at Imogen but clearly sizing Adrian up.

‘And how old are you?’

‘I just turned nineteen.’

‘You were spotted breaking into the old chapel on Smalling Street, is that correct?’ Adrian said.

‘Yes, I’m sorry.’ She tilted her head down, keeping her eyes on him.

‘Was there a reason for that?’ Imogen asked.

‘Not a good one. I just wanted to see if I could,’ Caitlin said, still staring at Adrian.

Imogen noted that there was no nervous disposition with this girl at all; she seemed almost defiant, even a little defensive. What was her game?

‘We’re trying to get hold of the reverend in charge, who will tell us if anything is damaged or stolen.’

‘He’s away at the moment, gone to some pilgrim site in Kent.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I live with him,’ Caitlin said with a hint of a smile. ‘He’s my grandad.’

Imogen tried to gauge whether this was a lie or not; there was something very hard to read about Caitlin, a dishonesty about her. She looked over to Adrian, who shook off his surprise at this revelation very quickly and recomposed himself. Imogen could tell the girl was fixated on getting a reaction out of Adrian; her strange flirtation seemed to be working on him, he was visibly flustered by her.

‘Do you have any way of contacting him?’ Adrian said.

‘Not for a couple of days. He will be back before the weekend, though. He’ll tell you that nothing is missing or damaged; I’m not like that.’

‘If that were true you wouldn’t even be here at all,’ Imogen said.

‘We’ll check out your story – where will you be if we need to contact you?’ Adrian said.

‘I’ll be at my grandfather’s house, or at class. One of the two.’

‘What are you studying?’ Adrian said.

‘Psychology at the university. I want to be a shrink, get inside people’s heads and stuff.’ She smiled at Adrian.

‘You’re not staying in halls?’ Imogen said.

‘Not really any point, seeing as I live in the town. It saves money, which my grandad doesn’t have that much of.’ She answered Imogen coldly, seemingly annoyed that she was there at all, as though this would be a lot easier if Adrian were the only person in the room. She was an interesting girl – there was a definite vulnerability about her, something she was trying desperately to hide. Imogen could identify.

‘Are your parents not in the picture?’ Imogen asked.

‘No, apparently being parents was boring and not nearly noble enough, so they skipped off into the sunset together. I think they live in South America somewhere. They’re missionaries or something.’

That explained her strange behaviour – abandonment issues.

‘You don’t have any contact with them?’ Imogen pressed.

‘Not for around ten years now. But you know, I’m privileged apparently, so I don’t really deserve their attention. They only have time for Third World children.’ She brushed her glossy black hair behind her ears. The hair was the same colour as her perfectly groomed eyebrows, which almost looked painted on, but they were natural, Imogen could tell. Caitlin was making Imogen self-conscious; she watched as the girl’s striking blue eyes bore into Adrian and no doubt pulled at his heart strings.

‘I’m sorry, that must be hard,’ Adrian said.

Imogen shot him a look; it wasn’t like him to make personal comments like that. There was something a little mesmerising about Caitlin. She couldn’t tell whether it was intentional and manipulative or just the way she was, but Imogen was almost certain it was the former. Imogen was the one with a record for falling for suspects; it was the reason she’d lost the opportunity to get the DI job, because the DCI had found out about her relationship with Dean, which although not entirely illegal was most definitely frowned upon. The truth was that Imogen was a little relieved about not getting the position; she wasn’t sure she could handle the extra responsibility as well as everything else she had going on, on top of losing her mum.

That fleeting thought of her mother sent a chill through her; she couldn’t call her, she couldn’t go and visit.

Imogen shook off the impromptu melancholy and stood up.

‘We’ll check out your story. If your grandfather is happy not to press charges, you’ll be able to leave,’ Imogen said.

‘The uniformed officer will take you to the cell for a little while; it won’t be long though,’ Adrian said gently, taking the edge off Imogen’s words.

‘Thank you, Detective Miles.’ Caitlin smiled and blinked slowly, her thick black lashes closing then opening to reveal those eyes, almost in slow motion. There was an aura of ‘trouble’ around her, something Imogen couldn’t quite put her finger on.

‘Interview suspended at three fifteen,’ Imogen said and turned off the recorder.

Caitlin Watts folded her arms and winced a little.

‘Is something the matter?’ Imogen said.

‘I cut my arm on the window while I was trying to get through it, no big deal.’

‘Let me see?’

The girl pulled her cardigan off her shoulder, locking eyes with Adrian while she did it. There was a gash in the top of her arm, about ten centimetres long, certainly not nothing.

Imogen held her breath and counted to three before speaking again.

‘You need some medical attention. I’ll get hold of the doctor on call to come and see you. I think that’s going to need stitches.’

Imogen opened the door to see PC Ben Jarvis standing there waiting for instruction. Ben was new to the district and already he had made no secret of his interest in Imogen.

‘I need you to take the suspect to holding, then get the duty doctor to check her out,’ Imogen informed him.

‘Whatever you need,’ he said, smiling in a way that made her a little uncomfortable.

He brushed past Imogen – she felt like he was making sure that some part of his body was in contact with some part of hers – before leading Caitlin Watts out of the room.

Imogen sat on the edge of the table and looked down at Adrian, who was watching the girl leave, not pulling his eyes away until she wasn’t there to look at any more. She thought it was funny how his perception of the situation in that room was so different to hers; she had been preoccupied with Jarvis, he had been preoccupied with Caitlin. He hadn’t even noticed her awkward interaction with the PC. She folded her arms, and her movement made him turn and see her looking at him, his face reddening, as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘She’s pretty,’ Imogen said.

‘No. That’s not what I was thinking.’ He tried to hide his smile.

‘Then what? You seemed to find it hard to look away.’

‘Don’t you think there’s something odd about her?’

‘I think there’s something odd about you,’ Imogen said.

‘Pot. Kettle.’

‘Do you think she’s telling the truth?’

‘Not even slightly,’ Adrian said. ‘I mean, the stuff about her grandad? She’s definitely lying, God knows what about. You know those people who just lie about everything? I think she’s one of those. They just can’t help themselves.’

‘You think she was trying to steal something?’

‘No idea. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of her, though,’ Adrian said, still staring at the door long after Caitlin had been taken through it.

‘I’m sure you’re devastated about that.’ Imogen raised her eyebrows.

‘I’m not the one who’s into suspects,’ he said.

‘Touché,’ Imogen said, unsure whether to take offence or not. But she was uncomfortable having Dean and Adrian in the same headspace these days. She noted a hint of something whenever the subject came up between them, which was thankfully a rare occurrence. Was Adrian jealous? It certainly felt like it sometimes. Maybe she was paranoid, maybe it was wishful thinking. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

‘You didn’t tell me how your mum’s funeral went,’ Adrian said, cutting into her thoughts.

‘It went. It was tough. Glad it’s over.’

‘Was your father there?’

‘Still can’t get used to calling him that, but yes, Elias was there,’ she said, pulling the door open; she wasn’t in the mood for talking about herself right now. If she opened up to Adrian, she might start crying and never stop. She wasn’t sure she was ready for Adrian to see her like that just yet; she wanted him to think of her as strong.

As they left the interview room, they saw Denise walking towards them in the hall. There seemed to be some discomfort between her and Adrian, as they avoided eye contact. Workplace relationships rarely worked out, unless you were lucky enough to find ‘the one’ – an ideal Imogen wasn’t entirely sure she believed in. Most of the time, though, all that was left after the intimacy was resentment and embarrassment. Imogen promised herself she would never put herself in that situation again, which of course meant it was absolutely inevitable.