She runs the footage, and I watch as what appears to be a female enters left of screen. I say female, though I can’t be sure because the face is completely obscured by the hood of the ubiquitous black puffer-type coat they’re wearing, but I sense it’s a woman by the build and the way she carries herself. I watch the back of their hooded head as they press the buzzer. A moment later, Milo Harrison opens the door of his apartment before instantly shutting it again – less than a split second. The look on his face tells me that whoever this visitor is, they’re not especially welcome.
‘So who might this be?’ I almost slosh my coffee down yesterday’s shirt as I move closer to the screen to get a better look.
‘Maybe the stalker that the neighbour mentioned, gov?’ Davis suggests as she starts flipping through her notes. ‘… here we go… Mr Abdul Ahmed, lives next door, apartment 35. He claims that during a recent conversation, Milo Harrison mentioned something to him in passing about a woman he’d had a brief encounter with – a one-night stand, basically – who’d been, I quote, “bothering him”. He’s also the same witness who heard the raised male and female voices coming from the apartment around the time of the incident. Milo never gave MrAhmed a name or description of the potential stalker woman he’d mentioned to him, sadly.’
I’m holding my breath as the hooded individual presses the buzzer again. There’s no audio, but I get the impression they’re speaking to him through the door. Pressing the buzzer a couple more times, they wait for another fifteen seconds or so, before finally walking away and?—
‘Hang on!’ Something has caught my eye. ‘Go back.’
Baylis rewinds the footage.
‘Pause it! There! As they turn!’
At this angle – every angle in fact – the face is still completely obscured, but I see it, a nanosecond flash of white light juxtaposed against the black hood.
Blonde hair.
NINE
DAN
‘Where is Detective Riley? Has Samantha turned up?’ Tilly stands with a sense of urgency as Parker and Davis enter Interview Room 1. ‘When can I go home?’
Her eyes dart between them, frantically searching their faces for answers. I watch from the camera link in the next room as she drags her palms down her face.
‘We’re doing our best to locate her, Tilly,’ Davis reassures her. ‘Let’s sit down, take this one step at a time, OK?’
‘I don’t understand.’ She retakes her seat on the plastic chair. ‘Why hasn’t she come forward? What’s happened?Where is she?’
‘It’s OK, Tilly.’ Parker’s voice is soothing, which is partly why I’ve decided to place him this side of the screen, along with the more experienced Lucy. His self-effacing demeanour helps put people at ease whilst belying the dangerous weapon he conceals with him at all times – his sharp mind.
‘That’s why we’re here, to get some answers, find out what’s happened, OK?’
‘Yes.’ Her puffy eyes drop along with her volume. ‘Of course.’
‘What can you tell us about your friend, Samantha Valentine, Tilly?’
‘What can Itellyou about her?’ She says it as though she doesn’t specifically understand the nature of the question.
‘Well, for instance, how long have you known her, where did you meet?’
‘We met in the bookshop, where I work, around four months ago.’ Her mouth forms a small, slightly wan smile. She has a pretty smile though, and her teeth are small and neat and white, but not so white that it’s the first thing you notice.
‘We’re both avid readers, though Sam’s more into romantic fiction, fantasy stuff and what-not, whereas I prefer biographies and historical novels.’
The duty solicitor begins scribbling in his notepad.
‘Look, please, I want to say, now, on record, that I never meant to kill Milo Harrison.’ Her voice is a shaky plea. ‘I really didn’t intend to hurt him, or anyone… I acted in self-defence!’ She removes her glasses, rubs her eyes. ‘He had a knife! And… I just… there was a knife on the kitchen work surface and… I can’t remember exactly, but we, or she – Samantha – picked it up, and then somehow I was holding it, and then when he came at me, came at us both, I just…’ She makes a single stabbing motion with her hand – her left hand.
‘I just wanted to stop him from hurting her… I’m not a murderer!’ She breaks down again. ‘Am I going to prison for this?’ I can feel her distress coming through the screen. It’s uncomfortable viewing.
‘Which hand were you holding the knife in, Tilly?’
She wipes her nose with the back of her sleeve. Wearing standard custody uniform of a grey shirt and sweatpants that look at least two sizes too big for her, she reminds me of a child who forgot to bring their PE kit to lesson and had to wear something from lost property.
‘Sorry, can you repeat that? I… didn’t catch it…’ She taps her ear.
‘Of course, I’m sorry,’ Davis apologises. ‘Which hand were you holding the knife in when you stabbed Mr Harrison?’
