‘It doesn’t prove anything,’ Hen pointed out, ‘except that you didn’t see the killer. Apparently.’
‘All I saw at Selsey were people acting normally. God knows why you asked me here. It’s not as if I witnessed the murder.’
‘You placed two men near enough to the scene to be of interest to us. If you’d picked out the suspect we’d be a damned sight closer to charging him. We’ll have to release him now. There’s a limit to how long we can hold a man and we’ve just about reached it.’
‘Don’t you have any other witnesses?’
Hen watched her, level-eyed. ‘There is one actually.’
Jo suppressed the spasm of panic she felt. ‘Did they see the woman killed?’
‘Christ, no. If we’d got that lucky we wouldn’t need you. Just some guy who was out walking that afternoon like you and gave us a description.’
‘And did he identify the man?’
‘In a parade, you mean? No need.’
‘Why not?’
‘He’s local, like the suspect. He gave us the name of the bastard.’
Back in her flat, she tried to calm herself enough to get a sense of what had been going on. She was in no doubt as to whom their suspect was. She’d never seen anyone so shattered, looking just as you would after hours of questioning. The only conceivable reason for putting Jake through this ordeal was that the other witness must have seen him on the front at Selsey that fatal morning.
Jo couldn’t think how she had missed him.
Was one sighting enough for them to pull him in as a suspected killer?
They’d need more. What else had they got on Jake? Whatever it was, it could only be circumstantial. Maybe he was linked in some way to the victim. Had they managed to identify the dead woman? She hadn’t asked, and they weren’t telling.
Out of all this wretched business there was one consolation. She now understood why Jake had failed to meet her at Selsey yesterday. Not because he’d forgotten, or lost interest. It could only be because they’d arrested him.
Whatever the police suspected, she was sure Jake was innocent and he would get her backing. Poor guy, he needed oceans of support after this. Unfortunately there was a difficulty. She didn’t have his address or phone number. And it was too late in the day to phone his work and leave a message.
She spent the next hour trying to think of ways of contacting him. The police had said they couldn’t hold him any longer, so he’d be home by now. How frustrating was that?
Just Before seven, her phone rang. She picked it up and gave her name. At first no one answered. She waited in dread that it was only a cold call, someone in India trying to sell her cheap electricity.
Then a man’s voice said, ‘Sorry about yesterday.’ And she knew instantly who it was.
‘Jake. How are you?’
‘In a spot of trouble.’
‘I know. I know all about it.’
‘You do?’
‘I was there today for that stupid identification parade.’
‘You?’ There was a pause, then a despairing, ‘Oh, Christ.’
‘They made me do it because it was me who discovered the body on the beach. I was supposed to see if I recognised one of the men I’d seen. Jake, it freaked me out when I saw you in the line-up. God knows what the police think they’re doing. Anyway, you’re home, are you?’
‘Mm.’ He sounded preoccupied, still absorbing what she’d told him.
‘How did you get my number?’ she asked.
‘Number?’
‘The phone. I’m ex-directory.’ How it was done didn’t matter squat, but talking about it was giving her time to get her own jumbled thoughts in order and decide what to say next.
‘Gemma,’ he said.
‘Of course. Good old Gem. She’s in the book. She put you onto me. I really appreciate this call, Jake.’
‘Can we meet?’
‘Meet?’ Her pulse quickened. ‘I’d love to.’
‘To talk.’
‘I understand. All right. When? Tomorrow?’
‘Tonight.’
‘Are you sure? You looked out on your feet.’
‘A pub would do.’
‘What’s the one near the beach in Selsey? The Lifeboat Inn.’
‘I can come to Chichester.’
‘I won’t hear of it after all you’ve been through,’ she told him. ‘Selsey. Definitely Selsey.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Eight-thirty in the Lifeboat?’
He was already at a corner table with a pint in front of him when she arrived. The sight of him here, a free man again, was a huge reassurance. The dark rings were still around his eyes, but some of the strain had gone from his face. She said she’d have a tonic.
‘How long did they hold you at the police station?’ she asked when he put the drink in front of her.
‘Since yesterday morning.’
‘Oh my God. Is that legal?’
He nodded.
‘But you haven’t done anything.’
‘It’s a murder case.’
‘They told me you were seen by someone at the beach the day I found the body,’ she said. ‘Surely that isn’t enough for them to arrest you. Were you really there? I didn’t spot you.’
‘Thought I might get lucky,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You said… ’ The words stopped coming.
‘Go on.’
‘… you walk there sometimes.’
Her heart felt like Big Ben striking. ‘You were there because of me?’
He shrugged. ‘Anyway, it’s not a bad place to walk. Normally.’
If his remark was meant in humour, it escaped her. She was seized by the need to let him know she’d shared his idea. ‘That’s why I went, in hope of meeting you. How could we have missed each other? Jake, I’m sorry. If I’d known you were about, I wouldn’t have gone back to the car. Do you know who it was who spotted you?’
‘Some local guy.’
‘And what was he doing there?’
‘Walking his poodle dog.’
‘Him! In combat clothes. I saw him. I told the police about him, but they didn’t show any interest.’
‘He knows who I am.’
‘It doesn’t mean he’s in the clear. He could be shifting the interest away from himself. I was really shocked when I saw you in that line-up. Did they rough you up? You looked awful.’
His mouth twitched into a half-smile. ‘So what’s new?’
‘I don’t suppose you slept at all. They should have found out in the first two minutes that you had nothing to do with it.’
He sighed and stared into his drink. The broad shoulders sagged. ‘There’s something you don’t know.’
Her skin prickled. Were the new shoots of joy about to be trampled? She was so certain he was a decent man, unfairly accused.
He said, ‘I’ve got form.’
‘What?’
‘A record. Been in prison.’
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘Tell me.’
‘When I was nineteen… ’ He primed himself with a sip of beer. ‘When I was nineteen, in Cornwall, there was a main road built near where I lived, a bypass.’
She nodded, but so much was going on in her own shocked brain that she was hearing his voice as a distant sound.
He passed a hand over his head and held it against the back of his neck. He was making a terrific effort to speak more than his usual few words. Gaps came between sentences, but he persevered and Jo heard him out. ‘I was against it. Habitats were under threat. Trees, ecosystems
… I joined the protesters. We set up camp, lived rough, in the trees. Said the developers would have to kill us if they felled the trees. That didn’t stop them… They sent in the police, then the army. Ordered us down through loudhailers. We refused, but they had the equipment.’ He paused for longer at this point. The words had been flowing more than anything he’d communicated before. ‘It was no contest. I’m lashed to a branch in a sixty-foot beech. Three squaddies come for me. I try to hold them off, but one gets a grip on my foot. I stick my free boot against his shoulder and brace my leg. He falls off. He’s on ropes, but he hits a branch and breaks his spine. Paralysed.’
Jo had a vivid picture in her head. She whispered, ‘What a nightmare.’
‘Lots of people saw. It was filmed. They got me down soon after. Threw me into a van with the others. Charged me. Grievous bodily harm. When it came to court… ’ He paused to summon up more words. ‘In court the judge said the injury warranted a long custodial sentence.’