When You Are Mine(89)

‘My girlfriends took me out clubbing. I drank too much or my drink was spiked.’

‘Which one was it?’ he asks. ‘Were you drunk or drugged?’

‘I don’t know. What’s this about?’

‘Darren Goodall.’

‘What’s he done this time?’

‘He’s dead.’

I’m staring at Fairbairn, trying to decide if this is some sort of sick joke, but I can see he’s telling the truth. My stomach cramps and I feel another wave of nausea.

‘What happened?’

‘He was murdered. We’re following up on anyone who had dealings with Detective Goodall. When did you last see him?’

‘A few days ago. I was in court when his wife applied for a DAP order.’

‘You accompanied her?’

‘I offered her moral support.’

‘As a friend.’

He makes me sound compromised, as though I’ve been caught out in a lie. I feel myself growing annoyed.

‘Do I need a lawyer?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know. Do you?’ He looks at me quizzically. After a long pause, he smiles disarmingly, and finally sips his tea.

Henry is hovering in the doorway to the living room, wanting to know why a police officer is in our kitchen. I wave him away. Fairbairn slips his notebook into his jacket pocket, patting it with his hand.

‘How did he die?’ I ask.

‘Detective Goodall burned to death.’

‘In his car?’

‘No, his house.’ Fairbairn glances at his mobile. ‘I can show you, if you’d like.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You seem to have taken quite an interest in Sergeant Goodall – searching the police database, talking to his wife … Perhaps you can help me understand why someone would do this.’

‘He must have made enemies.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Dylan Holstein was investigating him.’

‘You think this is payback for a dead journalist?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘His fiancée fell from a cliff seven years ago. She was drunk. It was windy. The coroner decided it was a terrible accident. Goodall didn’t care if some journalist was sniffing around, digging up dirt.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Stands to reason.’

Whose reason, I want to ask, but let him go on.

‘The chains. The breeze blocks. The swim in the river. That was a gangland hit,’ says Fairbairn. ‘The sort of thing your father might arrange.’

‘He’s a property developer.’

The detective finds this funny. I wait for him to stop laughing.

‘It was odd that you happened to be there when we found his body,’ he says.

‘It was a coincidence.’

‘Coincidences can sometimes take a lot of planning.’

I don’t rise to the bait.

‘How is your father?’ he asks.

‘Recovering from a heart attack.’

‘Yeah. That was a lucky break for us, having you identify him, given your family connections. How is your father?’

‘He had a heart attack.’

‘I heard. Shame. On the mend, I hope.’

‘Yes.’

‘Eddie McCarthy seems to have a finger in every pie these days. Must be handy having a daughter in the Metropolitan Police.’

‘I resent what you’re implying.’

Another smile.

‘Dylan Holstein was investigating the Hope Island development. Two local councillors resigned, another is dead, yet nothing stops Eddie McCarthy – not even a heart attack.’

‘If you have questions, you should ask him. You know his address.’

‘I do. It’s quite the manor.’ He scratches his unshaven chin. ‘Drugged, you say. I can take you to hospital if you’d like a toxicology test. Of course, if it turns out you’ve been taking recreational drugs it will be the end of your career.’

It’s already over, I think, but instead ask if I can take a shower.

Fairbairn waits. In the bathroom I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I have dark circles under my eyes and my lips are bloodless and cracked. I look like a zombie. I feel like a rape victim.

Henry sits on the bed as I get changed.

‘You told me Tempe wasn’t invited,’ he whispers.

‘And you told her where we were.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

I’m about to argue, but he pushes back. ‘I didn’t know where you were going.’

‘Tempe said she called you.’

‘Yes.’

‘You must have said something.’

‘I said you’d gone out with your friends.’

‘Because you knew it would hurt her.’

Henry tries to change the subject. ‘Who spiked your drink?’

‘I didn’t think to take down his name,’ I reply. ‘Silly me.’

‘Was there anyone sniffing around you, or buying you drinks?’

‘Yes and no.’

‘To which question?’

I’m annoyed that I have to defend myself. ‘A woman should be allowed to go out without being drugged and assaulted.’