Kelly looked at Dan, who took over.
‘That’s nai way to speak to a lady, laddie,’ Dan said.
‘You can fuck off as well then, mate.’
‘I’m not your mate.’
‘Can I remind you this is an interview under caution, Kevin, which will be played in court.’
‘Fuck the lot of yer,’ he added for good measure.
They persevered.
‘Where were you on the afternoon of Friday the 11th of July?’ Kate asked.
He glared at them.
‘We have you on camera arriving at the Old Man Guesthouse in Skelwith at around 8 p.m. and not leaving. Who did you go to see?’
‘No comment.’
‘Was it Angelina Robbins?’
‘No comment.’
‘Do you think the DNA we have taken from you in hospital will match the samples taken from room 13 and Angelina’s body?’
‘No comment.’
‘Why did you rape her?’ Kelly asked.
The question garnered a flicker of Kevin’s left eyelid and Kelly leant into the camera.
He grinned.
Kelly wondered if Kevin Streeting had a nanochip in his skull too, because he behaved like he’d had a lobotomy. But dumb animals can be dangerous ones. Lethal ones.
‘Why was it so public? Why take her to the lake and leave her to die?’
This elicited a genuine response.
He thought she was already dead.
‘She drowned by the lake,’ Kelly said. ‘Your beating with the lampstand didn’t finish her off.’
Streeting sniffed and looked away but it wasn’t an emotional gesture; it was more playground bravado: the kind of tough guy snuffle that precedes a punch.
‘Did she reject you? I know how this goes… She turned you down and you decided to stray from your brief. You left your DNA inside her too.’
Kate reached out her hand to place it on top of Kelly’s. She squeezed it.
‘Who told you to go to the address on Rydal Water? To the property of Melvin Stone?’
‘Father Christmas.’
‘Where were you on Saturday 12th of July?’
‘In the bath.’
