Page 26 of Nothing Hiding

She still wasn't sure whether he was evading so desperately because he was the killer himself or because he'd been shirking his duty. But she was starting to think that it was the second theory. He'd been lazy and careless and hadn't been at his post half of the time. If he made a habit of that, the killer could have seen and could have known how easy it would be to sneak past with his victim.

"I might have stepped out once or twice," he mumbled, turning red.

"Give us times," Wyatt insisted loudly.

"Well, the expo opened for setup at six-thirty. I was there at six-thirty, but then I went for coffee with my girlfriend," he mumbled.

"Who's your girlfriend?" Juliette asked. “Where did you go with her?”

"Her name is Alicia. She came to meet me at about seven, and we went to the local coffee truck down the street. We had coffee there, and breakfast, and chatted for a while," Griggs replied, his gaze flickering nervously.

"And when did you get back?"

"About half seven, but then there were various things I had to sort out. People needed help moving equipment and setting up, so I went to try to help. I mean, it was just guarding a door into an expo! It wasn't even open to the public yet!" he said defensively. “It’s part of my job to go and help if people need it and not just stand at a door.”

Juliette and Wyatt exchanged a glance. It now appeared that Griggs wasn’t the killer, but his negligence in going for coffee, and also the fact he was on call to help exhibitors, could have given anyone an opportunity to sneak in undetected.Without a permanent presence at that back gate, the killer could have taken advantage of it.

The one thing they did need to do was to see whether Griggs had an alibi for last night. That would clear him once and for all. Juliette still wasn’t convinced that he’d run from them simply because he hadn’t been at his post. That didn’t make any sense. And nor did being spooked by the police. Not such a massive overreaction. There had to be another reason.

"Last night, Friday. Where were you?"

"I was with my friends. With Alicia and a few of the guys from my group. We went out for drinks and then we went to a club in South London."

"What time?"

"The club?" He wiped a trickle of sweat from his face. "We got there about ten, and I think we left at around two in the morning. I know I didn't get much sleep because of having to be here so early."

Now that Juliette looked more closely, she could see that he was red eyed. And more than that, he was shifty eyed all over again. She was wondering if he’d enjoyed something illegal while at that club. What if some of those illegal substances had still been on his person when the police had arrived?

“Did you have anything with you that the police might not approve of?” she asked and was rewarded by seeing his eyes jerk wide.

“Look, it wasn’t me, I swear, I didn’t realize. I thought it was just an energy tablet, that’s all. I swear that’s what I thought it was!”

Okay. Her hunch was right. He’d bought drugs at the club and had run from the police because he’d known he might face a possession charge. Somewhere on his headlong run, he must have dumped whatever he had. That was a fight for another day, and Juliette didn’t have time to retrace his steps and search for a stash of drugs.

"I’m not taking any action over your purchases at the club, but you’re very lucky. You could spend years in prison if you’re convicted for possession of class A or class B drugs, which I’m guessing those were. That’s a serious offense. Your life could change forever because of that decision. Do it again, and your luck might just run out. But for now, I’m focusing on a murder case. Can you prove where you were, and for how long?"

He stared at her in consternation for a moment and then, as if his brain was finally activating, he nodded. "Yes, I mean I've got messages and stuff on my phone, and the nightclub sent us a message when we were in. And I did buy some drinks on my card during the night. So yeah, I guess I can prove it? And I’m sorry. I mean, I take the warning seriously. I really do." His hands were still shaking from his close call about those illegal substances.

Juliette took his phone from the tray containing his personal possessions, and he opened it for her. Scrolling through, she saw that the messages did confirm his presence at the club last night. There was also a series of messages this morning, setting up the coffee date with his girlfriend. And talking about their hangovers.

Juliette was annoyed with him for running, but she had to accept that he wasn't to blame for the murder. He'd been irresponsible, but he wasn't a killer.

And now, Juliette's phone was ringing.

With a flash of worry, she saw it was a central London number. That might spell trouble.

Picking up, her suspicions were confirmed. It was the ambassador himself, who had obviously had the police on his doorstep telling him the tragic news. Emotion resonated from his cracking voice. Primarily, at this moment, it was fury.

"My daughter's dead! She's dead! You didn't find her in time, and now this has happened!" he raged.

"I'm so sorry this has happened," Juliette began, knowing that there were no words to console an inconsolable parent. But McKay was on the warpath.

"I need you in here, right now. I'm changing tack. I've asked for Scotland Yard to get involved immediately. You've failed me, so now you must work with them. I’m pulling all available resources onto this case, and I’m doing it with the police commissioner’s permission. The team's on the way, and I want you here in half an hour."

Juliette grimaced in concern, but there was no chance to say more because McKay had hung up.

Working with two brand new detectives, with all of them under massive pressure, might be productive, but it might also be a huge disaster. Egos and territory and a myriad of other factors could come into play. But they had no choice.

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