I See You(80)

‘Who’s behind the website, Gordon?’ Kelly had asked again. ‘The courts will look far more favourably on you if you help us out.’

Tillman had looked at his solicitor, who was quick to answer on his behalf.

‘That’s a bold promise, PC Swift, and one you are not at liberty to make. I have advised my client to make no further comment.’

There had been a half-hearted attempt at a bail application at court, based on Tillman’s previous good character, his standing in the community, and the impact his absence would have on his career; but the speed with which the magistrate refused the request suggested he had made up his mind some time earlier.

They hadn’t managed to get any information out of Tillman, but perhaps Luke Harris would prove more forthcoming. The stakes were lower; no allegation of rape, no custody-issue tracksuit, no time in a cell. Softly, softly.

‘The website,’ Kelly prompted now.

Luke leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his head between splayed-out fingers. ‘I joined a few weeks ago,’ he muttered to the thick pile of the rug beneath the coffee table. ‘Someone at work put me on to it. Zoe’s was the first profile I’d downloaded.’

Highly unlikely, Kelly thought, but she decided to let it go. For now. ‘So why not tell us that when we first asked?’

Harris looked up. ‘It’s run on the QT, as I understand it. Members are encouraged to be discreet.’

‘By whom?’ Nick said. ‘Who runs the site, Luke?’

‘I don’t know.’ He looked up. ‘I don’t! That’s like asking me who owns Wikipedia, or Google Earth. It’s just a site I use – I’ve got no idea who runs it.’

‘How did you find out about it?’

‘I told you, someone at work.’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t remember.’ Luke became more agitated with each question Nick fired at him.

‘Try.’

He rubbed his forehead. ‘A load of us were talking in the pub after work. It was a bit hardcore. Some of the guys had been to a strip club at the weekend – there was a lot of banter about it. You know what it’s like when lads get together.’ This was directed at Nick, who remained expressionless. ‘Someone mentioned the website. They said I’d need a password to open an account – that it was hidden in the phone number on an advert in the back of the London Gazette. A sort of secret code, just for people in the know. I wasn’t going to look but I was curious and …’ He tailed off, looking between Nick and Kelly. ‘I wasn’t doing anything wrong.’

‘I think you should leave us to decide that,’ Nick said. ‘So you downloaded Zoe Walker’s details, then you followed her.’

‘I didn’t follow her! I’m not a stalker. I just engineered it so I’d bump into her, nothing else. Look, all this’ – he waved an arm around, encompassing the penthouse – ‘is great, but I work bloody hard for it. I’m in the office seven days a week, on conference calls to the States every night … it doesn’t leave much time to meet women. The website gives me a leg-up, that’s all.’

A leg-over, Kelly thought, catching Nick’s eye. ‘Tell me what happened on the platform at Whitechapel, the first time you spoke to Zoe Walker.’

That shifty look again from Harris; his eyes flicking up to the left.

‘What do you mean?’

‘We’ve got a statement from Zoe,’ Kelly said, chancing her arm. ‘She’s told us everything.’

Harris closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, he avoided eye contact, staring instead at an illustrated guide to Italy in front of him on the coffee table. ‘I’d tried to get chatting to her that morning. I found her on the Overground, right where her profile said she’d be. I tried to speak to her, but she ignored me. I decided if I helped her with something it would break the ice: I thought I could give up my seat for her, or carry her shopping or something. But nothing like that came up. Then I was behind her at Whitechapel, and she was standing really close to the edge of the platform, and …’ He stopped talking, his eyes still fixed on the book in front of him.

‘Go on.’

‘I pushed her.’

Kelly took an involuntary breath. Next to her she felt Nick sit up. So much for the softly, softly approach.

‘I pulled her to safety instantly. She was never in any danger. Women like being rescued, don’t they?’

Kelly bit back her instinctive response. She glanced at Nick, who nodded. Kelly stood up. ‘Luke Harris, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the attempted murder of Zoe Walker. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something you later rely on in court.’





26


PC Swift rings me on Monday evening.

‘We’ve arrested the man you spoke to at Whitechapel.’

‘Luke Friedland?’

‘His real name’s Luke Harris.’ She pauses just long enough for me to wonder why he lied to me. The answer comes in the next breath. ‘He’s admitted to pushing you; we’ve arrested him for attempted murder.’

I’m glad I’m already sitting down, because the blood rushes from my head. I reach for the remote and mute the television. Justin turns to look at me, the half-formed reproach on his lips freezing when he sees my face. He looks at Simon and nods towards me.