Page 46 of Dead Fall

‘I meant the record company people. I heard that she was refusing to make the album that they wanted. Now they can do what they like with the material and make seriously big bucks out of her death.’

‘That hit track of hers is everywhere at the moment,’ Flyte mused. ‘But seriously? Some record company suit murdering an artist? It’s just not plausible.’

It was hard to disagree.

‘I’m afraid the chances of getting a fruitful lead two weeks after she died are close to zero,’ said Flyte quietly.

‘No!’ The word came out louder than Cassie intended and Flyte blinked rapidly. ‘Sorry. I mean, look, you have to keep trying. You’ll find something.’

Flyte was looking at her with open curiosity. ‘What is about Bronte’s death that has got you so involved?’

Good question – but one she had no intention of answering.

‘Christ, look at the time,’ she said. ‘I really do have to go. But, you know, call me if I can help with anything.’ Their eyes met for a long moment and Flyte managed a wan smile.

FLYTE

Flyte spent the rest of the day in the Bronte incident room feeling like a spare part. But as she was heading home, DI Bacon caught up with her in the corridor. ‘Ah, glad I caught you,’ he said. ‘We’ve finally got this “Charly Detective” – real name Charlotte Wiggins – in interview room one and it never hurts to have a female present.’

Flyte frowned. ‘To get her to open up?’

‘No, so that I can scare the bejesus out of her while you work the sisterhood angle,’ said Bacon with a piratical grin.

*

‘So let me get this straight, Charlotte.’ Streaky was still smiling at this point. ‘You didn’t actually get this story about Ethan Fox strangling his lovers for kicks from one of his ex-girlfriends, did you?’

‘It came from someone in the know,’ said Charly, leaning back, combat-trouser-clad legs splayed, playing the defiant journalist. ‘But obviously I’m not revealing my source.’

Bacon turned to Flyte with an exaggerated look of confusion. ‘Did I ask anyone to reveal their source?’ She shook her head. ‘Oh good, I thought I was losing it for a moment there.’ He levelled a neutral look at Charly. ‘I’m asking you whether you spoke directly to someone who claimed he had strangled them during sex.’

Charly gave a sulky shrug/headshake. ‘Not directly. But that doesn’t make it any less true.’

After eighteen months living in Camden, Flyte was inured to the pink buzz-cut hair, the tunnel ear-piercing and tattoo reaching up her neck, but the girl’s attitude made her itch to reach across the table and give her a slap.

‘Here’s the thing, Charlotte,’ said Bacon with an insincere smile. ‘I could walk out of here and say that you admitted to killing Bronte yourself. There’s no tape recording because you aren’t being interviewed under caution .?.?. yet. So how would anyone know that I was lying?’

Charly sat up a little straighter. ‘Obviously I’d say you misquoted me.’

‘There you go. But without the testimony of Ethan’s mystery ex-girlfriend, there’s no opportunity to confirm or deny this so-called story either. In court, the unconfirmed testimony of a third party is called “hearsay”. It’s more commonly known as gossip.’

Picking up an invisible cue from Bacon, Flyte took over with a smile. ‘Look, Charly, I realise that you were motivated by concerns that Ethan might have a history of abusing women.’

‘Exactly!’ she said, grasping gratefully at this offered straw.

‘Talk me through how you came across the photo showing these supposed bruises on Bronte’s neck would you?’

‘It was on a tiny online site a while ago, but nobody else had spotted the bruising – least of all the cops.’ Charly sent a look at Bacon, who didn’t react, preoccupied with using his little finger to excavate the contents of one ear.

‘I’ve seen a lot of domestic abuse cases,’ Flyte told Charly, her tone confidential. ‘So an image like that is obviously a red flag.’

‘That’s right!’ said Charly, leaning forward.

‘Could I see it again? Because the original doesn’t appear to be online anymore.’

‘I .?.?.’

‘It’s surely on your phone?’ – indicating Charly’s phone sitting in front of her on the table.

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