Page 60 of The Best Friend
‘Calm down. You’ll be fine. I’ll call Beth just as a precaution.’ He pauses. ‘What about Darcy? Should someone tell her about Mike?’
‘Let the police do it,’ I say. ‘You need to stay with Joe, and it’s not something you can tell her over the phone. She’ll need to be with someone.’
‘Okay. So, let me ring Beth and then I’ll call you straight back.’
‘I might not be able to answer. The police…’
‘Well, okay, ring me as soon as you can. Give me five minutes to talk to your sister.’
‘Okay.’
The lift door opens again and several people get out. I assume they must be police officers, even though they’re not in uniform.
‘They’re here,’ I say to Jared. ‘The other officers. I better go.’
‘Okay, speak soon.’
‘Love you,’ I say.
‘You too.’
I notice Jared didn’t say the actual words. He normally says he loves me, too. The window has steamed up. I run my finger across the glass, turn around and brace myself for more questions.
I’ve been ‘invited’ to the police station for an interview to answer more questions. I already told them everything back at Mike’s flat but apparently they want to clarify some things. So here I am, two-and-a-half hours later, in a tiny interview room with stained blue walls and no window. A musty smell permeates the small space – it’s so bad, I’m not sure whether it’s better to breathe through my mouth or my nose.
Sitting opposite me are the investigating officers DS Locke and DC Benson. They’ve both been studiously polite, offering me a sandwich and a cup of tea, but I’m not hungry. So I sit on my chair with a plastic cup of water, waiting for the interview to begin, a black video-recording device between us on the fake wooden table, a ceiling camera angled down at me.
When I first got here, they took my clothing as evidence, so now I’m wearing a borrowed navy tracksuit. It’s clean, at least. I voluntarily gave them my fingerprints and DNA as a precaution to eliminate me from their enquiries. I’ve been told I’m not under caution and I don’t need a solicitor. That this is purely a witness interview. Yet my heart still clatters like a guilty person. It’s so loud, I’m sure the two officers can hear it. I wish Jared or Beth were here with me to tell me everything’s going to be okay.
‘Stick the air con on, will you,’ DS Locke says to his colleague. ‘It smells rank in here.’
I’m already freezing but at least the fresh air might get rid of the cheesy smell. Benson nods, stands and leaves the room. I’m left alone with Locke for a moment. Rather than look at him, I stare fixedly at the wonky blue carpet tiles. After a brief moment, a faint hum emanates from a vent high up on the wall. Benson re-enters the room and sits next to Locke, their faces merging as my vision blurs with anxiety.
‘Have you told Darcy yet?’ I ask. ‘Mike’s wife.’
‘We’ve informed Mrs Lane,’ Locke replies, ‘and she’s currently helping us with our enquiries.’
I wonder if she’s here, too, in a different interview room. I wonder whether she’s taking the news calmly, or if she’s hysterical with grief. God! I hope she doesn’t spin any of her lies.
‘Do you know who did it, yet?’ I ask. ‘Who killed Mike?’
‘We’re trying to establish that, Mrs Sullivan,’ Locke replies.
‘Do you think you could call me Louisa?’ I ask.
‘Sure. We’ll be recording the interview now, and DC Benson will also take notes, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I reply.
Locke presses the record button. He states the date, time and place, and we all have to introduce ourselves. Then Locke asks me all the same questions they asked back at Mike’s flat, and I answer in the same way, telling them how the apartment door was open and so I went inside, which was how I found Mike on the floor. That I never touched anything apart from the door handles and light switches, and then I called 999.
‘And why were you at the apartment, Louisa?’ Locke continues.
I tell him about Darcy and Mike’s break up. How Mike was upset and wanted me to come over.
‘Have you visited Michael Lane’s apartment on any previous occasion?’ Locke asks.
‘No.’
