‘Lisa,’ said Gerry, ‘do you have any reason to think your attacker was non-white?’
‘No. I... It was him. Jason. He got me thinking it might have been. He says it’s usually people like that who... you know. He got me all confused. But I didn’t really see his hand. I couldn’t tell the colour he was. It was too dark.’
‘Lisa, are you saying you did see your attacker’s hand, but that you just couldn’t see it clearly? You never told me that before.’
‘I... I think I did. I just... I was too upset and confused.’
‘And Jason convinced you that your attacker might have been black?’
‘But it was dark,’ said Lisa. ‘How would I have been able to tell?’
‘Would it surprise you to know that most sexual predators are white?’ Gerry said. She turned to Jason. ‘Did you give your sister any reason to think her attacker may have been black?’
‘I might have suggested it,’ said Jason, slouching deeper in the chair. ‘So what?’
‘But you’ve no evidence?’
‘How could I have? If you lot can’t find out who did it, how do you expect me to?’
‘Jason, that’s enough,’ said his mother. ‘I won’t have you being rude to a guest in our own home.’
‘It’s all right, Mrs Bartlett,’ said Gerry. ‘It’s a version of the butler or the passing tramp. Nobody likes to think it could be someone just like them who’s committed such a crime. Jason’s just angry and frustrated, isn’t that right?’
Jason looked at her with sulky aggression. ‘If you say so.’
‘Did you ever see that boy Samir around here?’ she asked him.
‘No.’
‘Any other boys around Hollyfield Lane?’
‘Sometimes. From Cardigan Drive, like. They’d be coming out of that house where that bloke who died lived.’
‘Howard Stokes? You saw people coming from his house?’
‘Sometimes. Shifty-looking lot.’
‘How did you know it was his house?’
‘Saw him coming and going a couple of times. I mean, maybe he was just visiting like the others, but he did hang out in the park. I just assumed...’
‘What about a fair-haired lad, medium height, sometimes rode a red bicycle?’
‘That’s pretty vague. Nobody stands out. Lots of people ride red bicycles.’
‘Fair enough. Did you see any activity there last Sunday?’
‘No. But I wasn’t around then. I was playing rugby over in Helmthorpe.’
‘Did you ever go to number twenty-six Hollyfield Lane, Jason?’
‘What do you think I am? Everyone knows if you spend too much time over on the old estate you’re bound to catch something.’
‘Did you know the house was used for the sale of drugs?’
Jason turned away. ‘Doesn’t surprise me.’
‘Ever tried drugs?’ Gerry knew she was pushing it, with the mother there, but Jason’s immediate reaction was enough to tell her that he had, and that he was lying if he said he hadn’t.
‘I think we’ve had about enough for now, don’t you?’ Mrs Bartlett said to Gerry. ‘Jason needs to concentrate on his revision, and Lisa needs time to get well again.’ She tapped Lisa’s knee. Lisa flinched.
‘That’s all right, Mrs Bartlett,’ said Gerry. ‘I think I’ve just about finished here for the time being. Sorry if I’ve upset anyone.’
‘It’s not that,’ said Mrs Bartlett. ‘But... well, we’re all a bit over-sensitive at the moment, aren’t we?’
If Zelda was going to carry out her decision of the previous evening, she realised, she needed to make some preparations before heading to the Hotel Belgrade again.
She still didn’t know whether Tadić had spotted her last night when she knocked over her empty glass in her hurry to escape. True, she had felt his attention suddenly shift towards her, but that was probably just instinct on his part, a natural reaction to any unexpected sound or movement. He couldn’t have caught more than a glimpse of her from behind as she made her way through the crowd. He probably wouldn’t even remember. When it came down to it, she couldn’t even be certain that he would still be at the Hotel Belgrade, or if he would come to the bar for a drink. But Faye had said they hung out there, and they were creatures of habit. The place was some sort of centre of operations for the loosely-knit criminal gang. The odds were, Zelda thought, that if Goran Tadić was still staying there, he would show up before too long.
Besides, she had appeared very different then from the way she planned on looking tonight. Her clothes had been baggy enough to make her seem frumpy, especially with the cheap glasses she had worn, and her hair had been a mess. Tonight she was going to be elegant, sexy and enchanting, and to that end, she spent a while in the hotel’s spa, visited a nearby hairdresser, then went shopping and bought a new dress. She already had a nice tan from the trip to Croatia.
The dress was important. It was essential that it didn’t look obvious, tarty, or anything like a hooker. Yes, she needed to be sexy and alluring, but in a subtle way. Nothing was to be overdone. It wasn’t that she thought Goran Tadić was a particularly subtle human being — he wasn’t — but that she didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself. Subtle but sexy. Casual elegance. The way she planned it, she wouldn’t be out of place at the hotel bar. If she got the appearance right, everything else would fall into place.
She found what she was after in Little Black Dress, a shop where she’d had success before. It wasn’t black, but oxblood, knee-length, bare-shouldered, halter-top style. She also bought new underwear, black and lacy. Finally, she bought a jade pendant on a silver chain to go with the new look, and strappy white sandals, with the heels just high enough to accentuate the curve of her calves. She decided to go bare-legged and spent some time in the bath shaving her legs. Her last port of call was John Lewis, where she bought a set of sturdy kitchen knives.
When she was finally ready, she studied herself in the mirror for anything that seemed overdone. She looked like a woman on her way to meet a date, perhaps for a night at the theatre or a meal at a good restaurant, which was exactly the way she wanted to appear.
‘I don’t do that stuff any more,’ said Tyler Cleary, when Gerry tracked him down to the college pub that evening. The music was loud, and the bar was crowded, but she managed to usher him to a reasonably discreet corner for a chat.
‘That’s good, Tyler,’ she said. ‘This should be very quick then.’
‘What is it you want to know? I want to get back to my mates.’
‘You used to go to a house on Hollyfield Lane to score drugs, right?’
Tyler stared at her. He was a rather slack-jawed spotty youth with a shock of unruly dark hair falling over his eyes. ‘You expect me to admit to that? You must be mad.’
‘Tyler,’ Gerry said. ‘We know you did. We know you were there. It’s a drug house. We found your fingerprints all over the place.’
Tyler picked up his pint and slopped a little over his jeans before he got it to his mouth and swallowed some. ‘I don’t have to say anything.’
‘No, you don’t,’ said Gerry. ‘But it would be best if you did.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because if you don’t, I’ll take you into the station and have a search party down to turn over your flat.’
‘You wouldn’t.’
Gerry stared him out. ‘Try me.’
‘OK,’ said Tyler. ‘Suppose I did talk to you. Are you offering me immunity?’
‘I’m not offering you anything. I will say, though, that I’m not interested in your drug use.’
‘That’s all in the past.’
‘Whatever. Not interested.’
‘OK. But how do I know you’re not recording this? Show me your mobile.’
‘Screw you,’ said Gerry, getting up and taking Tyler by the arm. ‘If you think I’m going to show you my mobile or let you search me, you’ve got another think coming. Come on, we’re off to the station. And don’t forget your sentence is only suspended, not permanently cancelled.’