Lying Beside You (Cyrus Haven #3)(54)

‘Where do you live, Evie?’

With each question they’re getting closer to Cyrus. I want to magic myself away, to disappear, to slip through the cracks. I need a Cloak of Invisibility like Harry Potter. With one of those, I could sneak past them.

‘Where’s my dog?’ I ask.

‘We called animal control. They’re coming to pick her up.’

‘You can’t do that. They’ll put her in a gas chamber.’

‘No, they won’t,’ says Mrs Beaumont, looking alarmed. ‘Where do you get such ideas?’

‘I want to see her.’

‘Not unless you answer our questions,’ says PC Pimple.

‘If I tell you my name – can I see my dog?’

‘If she’s still here.’

I nod in agreement.

‘Is Mitchell Coates really your uncle?’ she asks.

‘No, he’s a friend.’

‘You lied about that,’ says PC Pimple.

‘People lie all the time,’ I reply. I motion to his partner. ‘Do you fancy her?’

‘No.’

‘See? You’re lying.’

I watch him blush. Cute. I still want to pop his pimple.

‘Let’s get back to the subject,’ says PC Blonde, who is hiding a smile.

Finally, I give them my address and she jots down the details. The officers leave. They’ll be typing my name into a computer, looking for information, but they won’t find anything about me. I’m a non-person, a ghost, a shadow. There are court orders that protect my identity, which is ironic given what I’m being accused of doing.

I hear voices in the corridor outside. One of them sounds familiar.

‘Please don’t tell Cyrus,’ I whisper under my breath, but Mrs Beaumont hears the words.

‘Who is Cyrus?’ she asks.

‘My conscience.’

‘That must be nice.’

‘It’s a pain in the arse.’





35


Cyrus


The viewing room clears. I’m alone with Lenny, who begins clearing the plastic coffee cups and torn sugar sachets, scooping them into a wastepaper bin. It’s not her job, but she does it anyway, out of habit or because she hates seeing the mess or feels sorry for the cleaning staff.

My silence seems to irritate her.

‘Foley is good for this,’ she says.

‘Absolutely.’

‘He had the motive, the opportunity, the means.’

‘Open and shut.’

There is another long pause, which could be a pregnant one, but I’ve never understood that term.

‘OK, what’s bugging you?’ she asks.

‘Nothing. You’ve taken out the trash. You’ve cleaned up the gene pool. We can all sleep more easily tonight.’

A beat of silence. Now she’s even more annoyed.

‘Out of interest – did they find any evidence of Maya Kirk at Foley’s house?’ I ask.

‘No, but she vomited in his van.’

‘Which he’s admitted. Have you tracked his phone?’

‘Of course.’

‘Where did Foley go after he left Maya’s house?’

‘Back to his house. Most likely, he dumped his phone then took Maya somewhere else.’

‘Where?’

‘We’re still looking.’

‘What about his computer – any evidence of violent pornography? Ropes? Knives?’

‘He seemed to prefer the revenge-porn sites.’

‘Anything sadistic?’

‘That’s sadistic enough for me.’

I’m following her, along the corridor and up the stairs. We pass two constables on the landing, who are arguing about an arrest. Lenny gets a jump on me and I have to jog to catch up.

‘I’m not saying you’re wrong. All the evidence points to Foley. He drugged Maya. He took her home. He sexually assaulted her. Rohan Kirk woke up and found them. Foley panicked and killed him. Everything fits except …’ We have reached the double doors.

‘Except what?’ asks Lenny.

‘I can’t understand why he’d wear gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints, but not care about leaving his semen on the sofa and on Maya’s dress. Isn’t that a bit amateur-hour?’

‘It’s like you said, he panicked.’

‘Yes, but he didn’t run. He stayed in the house. He cleaned himself up. He managed to get a semi-conscious woman to his van. He went home, dropped off his phone, and then took Maya somewhere quiet, where he kept her for two days. Somewhere secret, where he bound her in a very particular way. He fed her. He gave her water. He cut off her hair. Was that always his plan, do you think?’

‘I don’t know if he had a plan,’ says Lenny, through clenched teeth. ‘I think he made it up as he went along.’

‘Or he’s telling the truth.’

Lenny scoffs, ‘You think someone else showed up at the house and took her away? How unlucky can one girl be? Meeting a pervert and a killer in the same night.’

She’s right – it defies logic – yet so many aspects of the crime make no sense.

Upstairs, Hoyle addresses the task force, knowing the job is only half done.