Good Girl, Bad Girl(36)

Lenny looks from face to face, making sure that everyone is on the same page.

“One of Farley’s neighbors saw him on Tuesday morning carrying a bundle of clothes in a trash bag. He said he was giving them to charity, which is why we’re going to check every secondhand shop and clothing bin in Nottingham.”

There are groans from the detectives. Lenny ignores them, glancing instead at the clock.

“We can hold Farley for another twenty-three hours, unless we apply for an extension. The clock is ticking. I want to know everything about him. Talk to workmates, friends, family, ex-girlfriends, neighbors. Trace his movements. This is our guy—I’m sure of it.”

“What about DNA?” asks Monroe.

“The results will take three or four days. I want a confession before then. I’m going first team with Edgar. Monroe and Prime Time you’re second team.”

“Has he lawyered up?” asks Nobody.

“Not yet, but we do everything by the book. We give him a break every two hours. Plenty of liquids and regular meals. Go in hard, but don’t bully him. Next briefing is at four o’clock.”

As she turns away, she is handed a phone. The chief constable is on the line. I hear Lenny responding: “Yes, sir . . . about an hour ago . . . reasonably certain . . . we’re about to start now . . . yes, sir. I will, sir. You’ll be the first to know.”

Lenny hangs up and motions for me to follow. We head downstairs to the interview suites, located at the rear of the building. The white-painted room is furnished with a table, three chairs, and a one-way mirror that allows the interrogations to be observed and filmed.

Craig Farley is alone, slouching in a chair, biting at a hangnail as though it’s a splinter. He stands suddenly and walks to the door. He raises his fist, as though ready to knock, but changes his mind. Now he’s in front of the mirror, glancing past his reflection with a studied casualness, as if he’s aware there might be someone watching him.

There is nothing unusual about his looks. He’s five ten, brown-haired, and thirty pounds overweight. Although anxious, his face is strangely blank, as though he’s not completely sure how he managed to get here.

Lenny and DS Edgar enter the room and introduce themselves. They ask Farley if he’d like something to eat or drink. He says he wants to go home.

“You’re under arrest,” Lenny explains.

“There’s been a mistake. You got the wrong person.”

“For what?”

Farley hesitates. “For whatever you think I did.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” says Lenny. “Because things were looking pretty serious for you, Craig. But if it’s all a misunderstanding, we should be able to sort this out tout suite.” She pulls her chair closer. I watch how Farley examines her, checking out her breasts and her hips. He can’t help himself.

“Exactly what mistake have we made?” asks Lenny.

“I had nothing to do with that girl.”

“What girl?”

“The one in the papers.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Jodie something.”

“You mean this one,” says DS Edgar, opening a file and taking out a photograph. “For the record, this is a recent picture of Jodie Sheehan. It was taken by a school photographer in March 2018.”

Farley looks at the image and away again.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” asks Lenny.

“Not my type.”

“What’s your type, Craig? We know you like them young.”

He doesn’t answer.

“You had sex with a minor.”

“I was never charged.”

Lenny corrects him. “You were never convicted. According to the medical report, you really tore her up.”

Farley nods. “She wanted it.”

“And she was your girlfriend.”

“Yeah.”

“So why be so rough on her?”

“Her dad was the problem, not me.”

He looks from face to face, wanting to be understood.

Lenny switches focus. “So where did you meet Jodie?”

There is a momentary glimmer of recognition in Farley’s eyes, but he’s taken too long to answer.

“I never met her.”

“What about at the hospital?”

He frowns.

Lenny produces a small plastic test tube from her pocket. “Do you know what this is, Craig? It collects skin cells from inside your cheek. Open wide and I’ll have a quick brush around inside.”

Farley shakes his head. “I don’t trust you. You’re going to plant my DNA at the scene.”

“What scene?” asks Edgar.

“On that girl. You’ll take my spit and you’ll spill it around.”

“We’re trying to remove you from our list of suspects.”

Farley presses his lips together and shakes his head.

“It won’t matter, Craig,” says Lenny. “We can hold you down if necessary. I can get four officers in here right now and we’ll do this the hard way.”

Farley shrinks from her and glances at his reflection in the mirror, raising his hand as though he’s unsure if he’s watching someone else being interrogated.

“What’s your dog’s name?” asks Edgar.