Page 92 of Dream a Little Dream

“Before we start, this is being recorded.” He pointed to the camera in the top corner of the room.

Aaron glanced at it, strove to pierce it with his gaze. Kenny was at the end of that camera. He couldfeelhim.

“You are free to leave at any time. This is not an arrest. And you do not have to say anything.But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.Anything you do say may be given in evidence.” Bentley checked over his notes. “Have you been offered a solicitor?”

A bang on the door stopped Bentley in his tracks. A uniformed officer opened the door to a suited and booted man.

“For Aaron Jones.”

Aaron looked the bloke up and down. Heavy-set fella. Buttons straining on his blazer. Jervine had been quick with her selection. Aaron supposed this was a duty solicitor or someone she’d had handpicked when she’d found out where he was.

Bentley looked as though he hadn’t expected it. But he gestured to the chair beside Aaron, allowing the solicitor timeto take out his notebook and fountain pen, eyes trailing over to the corner of the room. Aaron peered over Bentley’s shoulder at the camera, too. Kenny was most definitely watching, then. He thought about blowing him a kiss, but Bentley started the interview by pressing record.

“Interview with Aaron Jones, Saturday October 26. Conducting the interview is DI Jack Bentley of Ryston Police. Also in the room is…” he gestured to the uniformed officer.

“PC Florence Jenkins.”

“And the solicitor for Aaron Jones…” Bentley nodded to the man next to Aaron.

“Julian Thatcher.”

“We’ll be starting the interview at,” he glanced at his watch, “five forty three p.m.”

“Aren’t you gonna say who else is watching?” Aaron angled his head to the camera.

“There isn’t anyone watching,” Bentley lied. “The recording is for safety.”

“Huh.” Aaron looked behind him again, right up into the corner camera. “So you’reonduty now?” He used his words deliberately and carefully. If Kenny was watching on, he’d know exactly what Aaron meant.

“It’s in case we need to draw on this later.” Bentley shuffled the papers. “Can you tell me the last time you saw Rahul Mishra?”

Aaron’s jaw tightened. He’d been expecting this, but the question still made his stomach churn. They were already pointing the finger at him. “Can’t remember exactly. Couple weeks ago.”

“How was he fitting in at university?”

“Don’t really know. We weren’t friends.”

“You lived next door to him?”

Aaron shrugged, leaning back in his chair, and crossing his arms. “We shared a hallway. I’d met him once. Sorry, twice. The beginning of term. We didn’t hang out.”

“But it was you who reported Rahul missing to the accommodation officer on Friday evening? Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you suspect him missing if, as you say, you weren’t friends?”

“Because he made me dinner once. It was nice. Liked it. Fancied it again. So kept knocking on his door. Never answered.”

“Did you ask anyone else if they’d seen him?”

“Course.”

“And they’d said they hadn’t?”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“Did you wait outside one of his lectures?”

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