Child's Play (D.I. Kim Stone #11)(24)

‘But he could have done.’

‘No, it was—’

‘And you’re sure this was 11 p.m.?’

‘I looked at the—’

‘It couldn’t have been 10.45?’

‘I fucking told—’

‘Or 10.40?’

‘I know what—’

‘How do you know it wasn’t 10.35?’

‘I can tell the fucking—’

‘And you remember all this clearly?’

‘Objection, your honour,’ called the prosecution. About forty seconds too late in Penn’s opinion.

He understood the team was giving her a moment to collect herself, rein in her temper. Think before saying something she’d later regret.

‘Sustained,’ said the judge offering the defence barrister a warning look, which he acknowledged.

‘So, you are sure of your memory of all those events on the night concerned?’

‘Yes,’ she growled.

‘And there is no doubt in your mind?’

‘No,’ she spat.

‘Then please explain to the court why your original statement, the one closest to the actual event, states that your husband was home with you all night?’

‘I was confused,’ she said, colouring.

Most jury members were frowning yet riveted.

‘Confused about the date, time, your husband’s whereabouts, which is it, Mrs Nuryef?’

‘Yes, no, I mean…’

‘Four days after the murder of Devlin Kapoor you stated that your husband was with you at the time, yes?’

‘I had the wrong date. I couldn’t recall…’

‘Aah, you couldn’t remember exactly but you gave your husband an alibi for the murder?’

‘I assumed he was at home.’

The colour in the woman’s face had spread down her neck towards her breastbone.

‘Aah, you assumed. So, your memory is not to be trusted?’

‘No, I remember it clearly now. He was—’

‘You remember events more clearly now, months after the event, than four days later?’

‘Yes, I do,’ she snapped as the hostile defensiveness wiped out the nervous red stain on her skin.

‘So, you would have no ulterior motive in changing your story?’

‘Why would?…’

‘Nothing happened in the time between you changing your statement?’

She shook her head as though not trusting herself to speak.

‘Please answer the question.’

‘Nothing happened.’

‘No arguments?’

‘Nothing.’

‘No physical fights?’

‘I already said.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Nuryef, but I put it to you that your memory has failed you once again, or that for some reason known only to yourself you are perjuring yourself on the stand.’

‘I am telling the truth. He did it. I know he did.’

‘I put it to you, Mrs Nuryef, that you are telling barefaced lies to the court for some reason.’

‘He’s the fucking liar not me,’ she screamed, pointing at her husband and looking in his direction for the first time. ‘He’s the one who has been lying for fucking years.’

Her eyes were filled with hatred and her tongue dripped venom as her gaze locked on her husband.

‘I fucking hate you; now rot in hell you lying, cheating bastard.’

Penn let out the breath he’d been holding throughout that exchange.

It was over and the courtroom was silent.

Penn didn’t need to look at the prosecution, the defence or the jury to gauge how much that had hurt them.

It had kicked them in the nuts.





Twenty-Four





Halesowen College began its life in 1966 as one large building. In the early Eighties four more blocks were added and in the years since a further eight blocks had been added to incorporate Sports Studies, Media, Music and Performing Arts, ICT, Science and Animal Care. In addition, the college had a Science and Technology centre at Coombswood and a Hair and Beauty facility right by the Shenstone traffic island.

‘You feeling like we’ve done something wrong?’ Bryant asked as yet another member of staff passed them and glanced their way.

Sitting outside the principal’s office was not something she’d ever done well, and she was glad that the college had not yet commenced its autumn term giving them thousands of students as a further gawping audience.

They were five minutes early for the pre-arranged 10 a.m. meeting with Felicity Astor, the head of the college. The woman was taking it to the exact minute by the looks of it. And it wasn’t as if they had a murderer to catch.

Kim stood up and began to pace in front of the glass window that looked into the admin office. Not every desk was filled as term hadn’t started, but the five women inside shared little conversation as they stared at the screen and typed busily.

All except one.

‘Wonder who she’s talking to that can be more important than us,’ Bryant observed. The receptionist had called through to let her know they’d arrived.

Kim took another pass of the window and tried not to stare.