Lying Beside You (Cyrus Haven #3)(64)

‘Did you ever have doubts about the Lilah Hooper case?’ he asks.

‘No.’

‘She didn’t see her attacker’s face or hear his voice.’

‘His DNA was all over her flat.’

‘Because he looked after her dog, and he found her the next morning. He called the police. He gave a statement. He provided samples.’

‘Because it made him look innocent.’

‘Or he was innocent.’

The statement hangs in the air between them.

‘Hoyle ran that investigation,’ says Cyrus. ‘He should have seen the similarities between the attack on Lilah Hooper and the murder of Maya Kirk – the hacked hair, the ropes … He didn’t say anything.’

‘The offences are eight years apart.’

‘Even so, don’t you think it’s odd?’

‘No. You’re suggesting that a senior police officer withheld information, or deliberately misled an investigation.’

‘I’m suggesting that Hoyle made a mistake.’

‘A jury took less than twenty minutes to convict Coates.’

‘And juries never get it wrong.’

The comment lights a fire in Lenny, who swallows her first attempt at a reply.

‘Go home, Cyrus. We start again tomorrow.’





43


Cyrus


I wake before dawn with a warm body next to me. Evie’s hair has fallen across her eyes and her lower lip trembles as she breathes. I don’t remember her coming into my room and crawling into bed.

I try to move without waking her, but her eyes open.

‘You can’t keep doing this, Evie.’

‘You were having a nightmare.’

‘What?’

‘Last night. I heard you moaning. I was going to wake you, but I couldn’t remember if you’re supposed to wake people or not.’

‘That’s sleepwalking.’

‘Oh, yeah. Well, you were moaning in your sleep.’

‘Are you making this up?’

‘No.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t get into bed with me. We’re friends, that’s all.’

‘Friends can share a bed. You’re dressed. I’m dressed. Nothing happened.’

‘Yes, but you shouldn’t tempt people.’

She half sits up. ‘Were you tempted?’

‘No! Definitely not!’

‘Why? Am I that disgusting?’

‘That’s not what I mean. But there’s an age difference and a power imbalance and I don’t want Elias thinking we’re sleeping together.’

‘What power imbalance? You’re not my guardian, or my therapist, or my boss. You told Elias I was your lodger.’

‘It’s not up for discussion, Evie. Stay in your own bed.’

‘Even when you have a nightmare?’

‘Yes.’

My phone is buzzing on the side table. I reach for it. Fumbling. Answering.

Lenny in my ear. ‘The rideshare service says Daniela Linares was a no-show.’

‘But Evie put her in the car.’

‘The driver turned up outside the bar, but nobody was waiting. He called Daniela’s number and she didn’t answer.’

Swinging my legs to the floor, I sit with my back to Evie, who rolls into the warm spot.

‘Where was Foley?’ I ask.

‘Playing poker with his mates.’

‘How solid is his alibi?’

‘Pictures were posted on Instagram.’

‘Someone else picked up Daniela. He knew her name.’

‘Hoyle is talking about an accomplice,’ says Lenny.

‘It doesn’t feel like two people,’ I say, but logistically it might make more sense. Someone spiked Daniela’s drink and took her mobile phone. A second person could have been waiting outside to pick her up or follow her home.

‘We’re looking at Foley’s search history and social media feeds. He might have met someone in an online chatroom or forum,’ says Lenny. ‘Where was Mitchell Coates?’

I try to remember what Mitch told me. His landlady kicked him out of the boarding house. He was sleeping at a homeless shelter or on the streets. Either way, it makes him a suspect.

‘You can trace his phone,’ I say.

‘We will be. Hoyle is briefing the task force at ten.’

‘I can be there.’

‘I think you should stay away. You antagonised him last night.’

‘Not on purpose.’

‘Really?’ she asks sarcastically. ‘Is Evie with you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did she get a good look at the driver?’

Evie has been listening. She rocks her hand from side to side.

‘Maybe,’ I say.

Lenny puts me on hold. A few minutes later, she returns. ‘There is a police sketch artist at the Arncliffe Centre. He’ll be waiting for her.’

Twenty minutes later, I’m showered and shaved and yelling up the stairs for Evie to hurry. After ten more minutes she appears with a blob of pimple cream on her forehead.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asks accusingly.

‘You can barely notice it.’