‘Well, you asked, love.’
‘Did that piss you off?’
‘Course it did. I was pissed and she wound me up.’
‘So you followed her?’
‘No.’
‘You were seen going in the same direction.’
‘As were fifty other folks who were leaving at kicking-out time. At the end of the road, I turned right not left like they said in court.’
‘And you were carrying a beer bottle?’
‘I ain’t wasting beer,’ he offered, as though it was a criminal offence.
‘The bottle was never found?’
‘Fucked if I know where I lobbed it.’
‘So you insist you didn’t follow Gemma and assault her with the beer bottle?’
‘What would be the fucking point in that? That’s some weird fucking shit right there. I ain’t no freak.’
‘But the—’
‘What’s this all about, love?’ he asked, narrowing his gaze. ‘This is old news. I didn’t do it, jury says I did and now I’m here doing time for somebody else. Good for them and shit for me.’
‘And you’ve never met Lesley Skipton?’
He stared at her for twenty seconds as realisation began to dawn.
‘Ah, I see what this is all about and you can fuck right off. I never met her, and I never shagged her. Not with my dick or anything else.’
‘The similarities between the two—’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know. Coppers asked me all about her, but do you all assume that because I swear a lot I’m a dumb fuck?’
Stacey shook her head.
‘Good, cos I ain’t stupid enough to take that kind of risk.’
‘What risk?’
He pushed back his chair and signalled to Daisy that he wanted to leave.
‘I’m done cos it’s breakfast time and I ain’t missing it for this bollocks, so if you wanna know what I mean, check the fucking dates, love, check the fucking dates.’
Thirty-Eight
‘Okay, guys, let’s get started,’ Kim said as Stacey slid into her seat. The constable looked pensive after her early meeting at the prison. With such a troubled expression, Kim guessed the sexual assault of Lesley Skipton wasn’t getting solved any time soon.
‘You’ve all seen the second letter. Thoughts?’ she asked.
‘He’s pissed off,’ Penn offered.
‘Why?’