Gina glanced at the file. Phillip Brighton was only five foot six. Most of the men there had been taller. ‘Much taller or a bit taller?’
His stare was so intense, his eyes looked as though they might pop out of his head. ‘How am I meant to know? The ground was uneven and as I said, I was stoned. Average, tall, not sure. Not fat. He had a suit jacket on.’
‘Hair colour, features?’
‘He had a nose, two eyes and a mouth. He could have had hair – I don’t know. It was dark. I couldn’t see. I. Don’t. Know.’
Gina dropped her pen on the desk.
‘I do have something.’
Gina and Wyre sat up a little.
‘He was smoking.’
They were looking for a smoker.
‘Can you tell us where you saw him?’ There was a chance he may have left something behind. A cigarette butt, a footprint, anything.
‘There’s a small clearing. You follow the trodden path through the woods from the cut through in the garden. When you reach the oak trees, there is a small clearing. I fell asleep behind one of the oaks, in a bush. That’s where he was. Are you going to put a good word in for me?’
‘That’s all for now. I will add in your file that you cooperated.’
‘You’ll tell them I wasn’t dealing, that my stash is personal?’
Ignoring him, Gina continued. ‘When you went to the toilet, was there anyone else in there who can corroborate your whereabouts?’
‘I was taking a dump and I was on my own in the cubicle. No, I didn’t take anyone in with me.’
‘Did you go upstairs at all?’
‘You’re trying to fix this on me. I didn’t go anywhere but the shitter. I didn’t go up no stairs and I didn’t do anything I weren’t meant to be doing.’
‘That’s not entirely true. You shouldn’t have been in the building.’
‘You know what I mean. Tell them,’ he shouted to Mr Ullah. The solicitor whispered once again and Phillip pointed his shabby boot at the table and kicked the leg again, almost losing his boot. ‘Bloody hell! And I want my laces back.’
‘You know the rules.’ Gina knew he’d get his laces when he eventually left but not while he was in custody. She doubted Phillip Brighton was a suicide risk but the rules were there for a reason. ‘Anything else you can tell us?’
‘My client has been most helpful in your investigations. He’s told you all he knows and has given his full cooperation. I insist on a break so that I can liaise further with Mr Brighton.’
The investigation had just notched up. She was considering Phillip Brighton as a suspect in the case. He was in the building at the time of the murder. He claimed to be in the toilet and no one saw him in there. They had his DNA and fingerprints on file. Question was, would they find evidence of him having been in Holly’s room?
‘Interview ended at ten thirty a.m. on Sunday the tenth of May—’ Phillip leaned back and stretched in the plastic chair. ‘What is that on your jumper?’
‘What?’
Everyone in the room spotted the tiny fleck of red on his yellow jumper. ‘That?’ Gina pointed to the bloody fleck.
‘How would I know?’
Gina leaned in a little closer. ‘It looks like blood to me.’
His eyes widened.
‘There’s no evidence for that,’ Mr Ullah said as he slammed his paperwork down on the table. ‘My client is here to answer to a charge of supplying drugs—’
‘And now I want him to tell me why he has what appears to be blood on his jumper when he was at the scene of a murder last night.’
