Ian’s going to have to go and see his manager. He can’t keep his suspicions to himself and carry on as normal. Damn it! Ash was right all along. Iris is going to end up as their main suspect. She has motive; she has the right shoes and the right-size feet; and in all likelihood, she left a hair from her head on the victim’s body. Each of those things alone would mean virtually nothing. But together, it looks suspicious. Way too suspicious to ignore.
He tries to tune back in to the conversation, but it has become white noise with only the odd word here and there that Ian recognizes.Argument…jealous…love…threaten.Ian only realizes DC Ward has wrapped it up when she and the Spencer-Lyles stand up. Ian also gets to his feet, a step behind everyone else. His hands are clammy and he wipes them discreetly on his trousers before shaking Mr Spencer-Lyle’s outstretched hand.
‘I’ll walk you out,’ DC Ward says to the Spencer-Lyles, holding her arm out towards the door. ‘Are you all right, sir?’ she whispers over her shoulder.
He manages a nod and a tight smile. ‘Good work,’ he says.
Christ, his mouth is dry. He walks along the corridor and into the men’s toilets, where he splashes water on his face and drinks from the tap. His pale reflection stares at him from the mirror accusingly.
He comes out of the bogs feeling no better than when he went in, and heads along the corridor again. This time he stops at the last office on the right. He runs his fingers over the name plaque on the door. Detective Superintendent Nathan Hall. Ian looks up to his superior officer – literally (the guy is six foot three) and figuratively – Det Supt Hall has been mentoring and supervising Ian for ages, long before he was made the SIO of this case.
Ian hesitates for a few seconds, thinking again of his best friend, his goddaughter, his family, his career. He’s going to let everyone down. He’s overwhelmed with guilt and regret. But he has no choice. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the detective superintendent’s door.
Chapter 24
Iris
THEN
When everyone else went back to school after the Christmas holidays, Iris stayed off for two more weeks, holing up either at her mum’s or at her dad’s. Iris’s parents had been in touch with both the headmaster, Mr Brook, and the deputy head pastoral, Mrs Hamilton, on a regular basis and, although her parents didn’t seem satisfied with what the school was doing about the situation Iris found herself in, they’d all agreed that she’d be going back to school the following Monday. Iris was dreading it.
She’d kept up to date with her schoolwork. It was a welcome distraction. She caught up on the lessons she was missing and sent in her homework via the school’s Intranet portal. Most of her teachers had written to her directly and sent her feedback on her work.
Iris had steered clear of social media since that time she was supposed to look for evidence and had stumbled on those insulting messages. She’d deleted the WhatsApp groups, blocked the phone numbers of people who had sent offensive texts, deactivated her social media accounts and she hadn’t opened her emails. Until now, apart from that, she’d mainly had support from everyone around her – her parents, the staff at school, Olly and Melanie. Even Daniel had been supportive to her face. So she wasn’t exactly prepared for her first day back.
It all kicked off at registration. Millie sat next to her, but then sort of inched her chair a bit further away, pretending she wanted to talk to the girl at the desk next to theirs. Then the boys sitting at the desk behind Iris and Millie’s started to stage-whisper. It was obvious they meant for her to hear them.
‘She’s dumb, but she’s hot. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed,’ said Christian Pollard. He was this really geeky kid, with horn-rimmed glasses.
‘I’d like to bend her over and take her from behind,’ Rupert Mead chimed in. Rupert was the smallest boy in the year. Most of the girls were taller than him, too.
All the pupils within earshot of Christian and Rupert tittered.
Tears sprang to Iris’s eyes. She wanted to turn round and glare at them, but stayed eyes front. No way would she give them the satisfaction.
At break, Iris and Millie went together to the toilets, but when Iris came out, Millie had already gone. A toilet flushed and a pupil came out of the cubicle. The girl wasn’t in the same year or the same house and Iris didn’t know her name. Iris gave her a tight smile in the mirror as they stood side by side washing their hands.
The girl frowned at Iris’s reflection. ‘Slag,’ she said without breaking eye contact, then she turned and walked away.
Iris went back into the toilet cubicle, bolted the door, sat on the lid of the loo and cried. She sometimes fantasized about what superpower she would like if she was a Marvel heroine. The ability to make herself invisible. That would be awesome. She could sit in on all her classes, but no one would know she was there. When the bell went, she gave herself a stern talking-to. She couldn’t make herself invisible, but she could do the next best thing: keep a low profile. Keep her hand down. Try not to attract attention. So she got up and went to her English class. It was her favourite subject and Mr Lawton was her favourite teacher.
She was the last to arrive and everything went dead silent when she walked into the classroom. Everyone turned to gape at her. Killian Morrow looked her up and down and licked his lips like he was imagining her naked. Iris froze. Had he watched her video? Had they all seen it?
The seat next to Millie – Iris’s place – was already taken. There was a free seat next to a kid called Tom Fischer. Tom wasreallypopular. He usually sat next to Emiliano, the Italian exchange student. Millie had a huge crush on Emiliano. As did a whole load of other girls in their school. Emiliano was clearly absent today. Iris looked around. Nope, no other free seats.
‘Hurry up and sit down, Iris,’ Mr Lawton said, not unkindly.
She walked over to Tom’s desk. He removed his bag from the chair as she pulled it out to sit down. She got her books and pencil case out. Iris was fighting to hold it together, but a tear rolled down her face and plopped onto the cover of Daphne du Maurier’sRebecca. Tom bent down and rummaged for something in his bag. When he straightened up, he slid a pocket packet of tissues across the desk.
She looked at him, surprised. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered, taking out a tissue.
‘For what it’s worth, I think your ex is a wanker,’ he whispered. ‘He deserves to be expelled for what he did.’
That surprised Iris even more. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered again.
‘Tom, stop talking, please,’ Mr Lawton called. ‘Unless there’s something you’d like to share with all of us?’
‘No, sir,’ Tom replied.
