Page 112 of No Safe Place
A fat ginger tabby with no discernible owners sauntered into the kitchen, winding its way around her legs. He looked pleadingly up at her as she sipped her coffee, as though it was something he was certain he’d enjoy, if only she’d make him one.
Field kneeled down to stroke the cat, and noticed several large chunks of glass that she must have missed the night before.
‘I need to apologise, don’t I, tabby?’ she said, scratching behind the cat’s ears.
Sensing there was no food on the horizon, the cat left again with a flick of its tail.
She busied herself showering and getting dressed, then gave the kitchen a proper sweep and hoover.
Before she knew it, it was already quarter to eight, and she was jumping into the car. She had to be at the Maudsley by nine, latest, to interview Callum.
She would text Toby. She knew she needed to say sorry – but later. First, she needed to find and speak to Andrew Levey, the last patient on their list.
Chapter 79
Sunday | Morning
Callum
DCI Field was back, on her own this time. Maxwell stayed as his appropriate adult. He had the same lawyer as the other day, in the same cheap suit.
They were in the dining room, sitting in the same places. It was like a grim parody of last time, except he didn’t feel out-of-his-brain anxious. Just his usual anxious.
‘How are you, Callum?’ Field asked.
‘Been better,’ Callum said, glancing at Maxwell. ‘But I’m okay, today. Thanks.’
‘Callum, I want to go into a bit more detail on a few things,’ Field began. ‘You understand that anything you say today is admissible in evidence?’
Callum nodded.
‘Good.’ DCI Field looked less tired than yesterday, and her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. ‘When did you last speak to Andrew Levey?’
He’d been expecting her to go through his alibi for each night, or ask why Sam might have been outside his house.
Clearly not giving them Andy’s name hadn’t stopped the police finding his details.
Field was clicking and unclicking her pen. He closed his eyes, screwed them up. Tried not to count.
Click.
He realised he hadn’t actually answered her yet.
‘Andy?’ Callum rubbed a hand over his scalp. He coughed, buying thinking time. ‘I don’t know. Maybe five years ago? A new year’s text or something.’
Click.
‘Why didn’t you stay in touch?’ Field asked.
The small room was heating up.
‘I don’t know—’
Click.
‘—I think Andy wanted to distance himself from the study, and from his illness.’
Callum could feel sweat gathering in his armpits.
