Lying Beside You (Cyrus Haven #3)(69)

‘I was checking on the Maya Kirk forensics,’ I say.

‘Good. Write an email, make a phone call, send a carrier pigeon, but don’t come in here without my permission.’

I want to argue, but I have no authority and Dyson’s job is to make sure procedures are followed because any breaches will rebound on him. I empty my mug of tea into the sink and make my way outside, while Dyson berates someone else for not restocking the CSI kits.

Voigt follows me, looking embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry about that. He’s not usually so rude to people.’

‘Only to you,’ I reply.

He grimaces and glances skywards, as though searching for a sign or some warmth on a cold day.

‘You know the biggest problem with this job?’ he asks.

I could name a few.

‘People don’t trust the science any more. Back in the day, we had all these TV shows about crime scene investigators, which glamorised the profession, made us into heroes. But that only heightened expectations. Juries expect every crime scene to have DNA or fingerprints or fibres, the proverbial smoking gun.’

‘And you think that’s changed,’ I say.

‘Absolutely. I blame the pandemic. People started off listening to the health experts and the scientists, but slowly they drifted away. Some disappeared down rabbit holes and began believing in conspiracy theories and espousing quack cures. Livestock de-wormers. Anti-malarial drugs. Bleach. I could weep.’

My phone vibrates. It’s a text message from Alissa, Daniela Linares’ housemate. She can meet me at St Jude’s when her shift finishes at three. Elias is due to arrive at four. I must be home by then.

Moments later, I’m back with Evie. Frank has finished two drawings.

‘Miss Cormac was an excellent witness,’ he says. Evie scowls, thinking he’s teasing her. He’s not.

The drawings are pinned to the desk. Frank is spraying one of them with fixer. The first shows a man in profile wearing a baseball cap and dark-rimmed glasses. It’s a strange look, almost like a joke-shop disguise where the only thing missing is a fake nose and moustache.

Frank steps back. I glimpse the second drawing. Instantly, I recognise the mullet haircut and the poor excuse for a moustache.

‘Who is he?’ asks Evie.

‘Paulie Brennan. Maya Kirk used to babysit him.’





46


Cyrus


Alissa Hussein is waiting for me in the foyer of St Jude’s Medical Centre. She’s wearing a cardigan over her blue uniform, which has white piping on the sleeves and collar. Her dark eyebrows bob up and down as she talks in a scattergun stream of questions and statements.

‘Are the police looking for Daniela? I haven’t seen anything on TV. They came to see me. I told them what happened. We shouldn’t have left her. Harriet is beside herself. She couldn’t face working this week. She’s gone home to her parents’ house. I hate being alone.’

I offer to buy her a coffee, but she chooses a hot chocolate, without the cream. We take a table in the medical school café, away from the noise of the coffee machine and the busy counter. Colleagues acknowledge her, but don’t approach.

‘None of us had been out on the town for yonks, not together,’ says Alissa. ‘I used to love going to the clubs when I was younger. Back then we used a fake ID to get past the bouncers. On Friday I felt ancient. The girls were so young and empowered.’

She fishes a marshmallow from the froth.

‘Daniela wasn’t going to come along, but Martyn, her boyfriend, was away on a rugby tour, so we convinced her to join us. We left home at eight, shared a pizza at an Italian restaurant and stopped at the Little Drummer because it was happy hour.’

‘Did you see anyone you knew?’

‘A few people. It was busy.’

‘How did Daniela seem?’

‘Good. Happy. Until the police arrived.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They were showing photographs of Maya. Daniela grew upset. They went through nursing college together.’

‘Did Daniela have much to drink?’

‘We had a glass of wine at the restaurant and two cocktails. We bought the first round and the second arrived unexpectedly. The barman said we had a secret admirer. We thought he’d come over and introduce himself – try to chat us up, you know. We were checking out the guys in the bar, trying to guess who it might be, but nobody showed up.’

‘How did this guy know what you were drinking?’

‘He must have been watching our table. Is that important?’

‘We think Daniela’s drink was spiked.’

A shadow passes across her eyes.

‘Who delivered them?’ I ask.

‘The manager – the one with the curly moustache.’

‘Why did Daniela not go with you to the nightclub?’

‘She said she needed the bathroom. The club was only two streets away and we thought we’d have to queue. Daniela told us to go ahead and she’d catch up. The bouncer let us straight through the ropes and we went inside. We were dancing and Harriet shouted Daniela’s name in my ear. I sent her a text message and tried to call. She didn’t pick up.’

‘What time was this?’

‘Midnight, maybe. I thought she must have gone home.’