Daisy in Chains(78)

‘I only saw one, but there could have been others.’

‘The girl he was with, was it the one you mentioned, the one on the course?’

He thinks for a moment, and shakes his head. ‘No. This was a blonde girl, even bigger than Daisy.’

‘Daisy?’

‘Yeah, Hamish’s girlfriend. Well, sort of. They obviously weren’t exclusive.’

‘Did any of the tapes feature Daisy?’

‘Not that I saw, but I do remember hearing the others talking about a tape with Daisy in. They described it as a bit special.’

The door opens and a rush of cold air comes in, along with a middle-aged couple. It is completely dark outside now, the lights of the town stretching up and over the moors.

‘What happened to Daisy?’ Maggie asks.

‘She disappeared. When it all kicked off.’

‘What kicked off?’

‘The business I tried to testify about. It happened one night in Hilary term. That’s between Christmas and Easter.’

‘Thank you, I know. Go on.’

‘Simon and Oliver came banging on Chris’s door. They woke me up. I went outside, asked them what was up, and they told me, “Nothing, go back to bed.” ’

‘Your room was next door to Chris’s?’

‘That’s right. I couldn’t hear much of what they were saying and they left quickly, but I did hear them talking about picking up Hamish. I assumed that they were on their way to Warwick’s house.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I went back to bed. What else could I do? But next day, there were rumours going round about the police being called to Warwick’s house. That someone had died there in the night. The university kept it quiet. There was a small piece in the Oxford Mail about an unnamed girl being found dead in a Magdalen College house, but then nothing more was heard until the inquest.’

‘Did you ask them about it?’

‘I asked Chris. But he said they hadn’t gone to Warwick’s, and they knew nothing about what happened there. He said they’d gone to Hamish’s because he’d drunk too much and they were worried about him.’

‘Did you believe them?’

‘No. I saw Hamish that day. He didn’t look to me like he was nursing a hangover. He looked like he was shitting himself.’

‘Did you say anything to the authorities?’

‘What was I supposed to say? That three guys had gone somewhere in the night and I’d just assumed they were going to Warwick’s?’

‘So, what do you think happened?’

‘I think Warwick took a girl home with him, planning to make a video. I think something went wrong. Maybe he was trying something a bit more adventurous than normal. Maybe it wasn’t just him, maybe Oliver and Simon were involved too. Something went wrong and the girl died. The gang got together and made it look like she’d died accidentally.’

‘Not as easy as it sounds, surely?’

He gives her a pitying look. ‘They were medical students. They knew about causes of death and what post-mortem examinations look for. If nothing else, they would have stripped the room of the recording equipment, removed any signs of kinky sex. At worst, Warwick killed that girl and the others helped to cover it up. At best, they conspired to pervert the course of justice. And they got away with it.’

Laurence’s hands are shaking noticeably now.

‘You’re angry about it, aren’t you?’ she says.

‘Yeah, I’m angry. I’m angry that some people believe themselves to be a cut above the rest of us. I’m angry that the rule of law doesn’t apply to all of us equally, and I’m seriously pissed off that my word, when set against that of five upper-class, over-privileged twats, wasn’t believed.’

She gives him a moment. ‘Tell me about Daisy.’

‘What’s to tell? Nobody saw her again after that night.’

‘Do you think they killed Daisy too?’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.’





Chapter 76


NEW YEAR’S EVE is arguably one of the most depressing shifts to work in a police station. The 0600–1400 hours crew had practically congaed their way out to the nearest pub when their shift ended, but the 1400–2200 bunch are having to make do with soft drinks and snacks. Halfway through the shift, the cola is warm, the crisps are soft and the team are feeling the party might have passed them by already.

Liz comes back from the loo, makes a quick detour to her own desk and then leans over Pete’s. ‘Fifteen possibilities,’ she says, putting the file down in front of him.

Pete reaches across and sees a printed list of industrial estates. Liz has followed Maggie’s instructions to the letter: look for modest-sized units, rented out in January 2013, due for renewal in 2018. ‘We can get round them all in the next week or so,’ she says.

Pete nods. ‘I suspect Maggie is working on it as well. She could find it before we do. If it exists. Which I seriously doubt. Did I mention that?’

Liz smiles, starts to walk away, then turns back again. ‘If Hamish gets out, it won’t be good for you,’ she says. ‘Not in the short term.’

Pete wonders if he can sneak a beer out of the Asda carrier bag under his desk. The chances of a call-out at this hour on New Year’s Eve are slim, but you never know. ‘I guess at the end of the day, all we can do is the right thing,’ he tells her.