As they left, Gina grabbed her phone and checked to see if Hannah had messaged but there was nothing. She hoped that Samuel Avery had gone to his sister’s in London because that would mean that Hannah was nowhere near him. She now had the witness statement of a dead woman and Trevor Reed. This had to be enough to make a charge stick.
She’d left Robin Dawkins long enough to sweat it out. It was his turn next.
Briggs hurried along the corridor. ‘Update with regards to Robin Dawkins and you’re going to like this.’ That was just what she needed, some ammunition to enter the next interview with.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Cass’s finger hovered over the message she’d prepared for Kerry.
Kerry, is everything alright? I thought I’d have heard from you this morning. Hope you’re okay. Please message me when you read this.
The icon flashed, telling her that Kerry had read her message. She paced around her tiny lounge, stomach churning as she thought about Elvis and everything he was hiding. Had the neighbours seen him getting into the back of a police car? She pulled the curtain aside and scanned the streets and road below. No one was looking up at the house. No reporters had arrived to get a photo and dredge up Elvis’s past. As her mind ran away with that thought, she imagined trying to get out of the communal door below and being mobbed by people with microphones. Holly’s murder had already been on the news daily; they were hungry for a lead. Maybe they’d ask questions she didn’t have an answer to. Was Elvis having a relationship with Holly? What had he done time for? Maybe she’d been living with a rapist or a murderer. She’d read stories in her magazines, stories about women who’d lived with people and later found out that they’d done something terrible. Would she be another story?
She stared at her phone. Why wasn’t Kerry answering? Cass had skived off work and she wasn’t going back soon. Not only because she couldn’t face her judgmental colleagues if the news broke out about Elvis but also because she wanted to be there for Kerry. Today would test whether Kerry could be there for her too and now Kerry was ignoring her. Be patient, she kept telling herself. Besides, she couldn’t tell Kerry what had happened. Her mouth watered as she imagined Kerry finding out that Elvis had killed Fran. Is that what she thought?
Yes, he had been acting weirdly.
He’d been out at the time of her murder.
Maybe he’d been at Lilly’s house after the murder, at the same time Cass had been checking the last bridesmaid out, trying to decipher what Lilly had that she didn’t.
She felt her stomach roll as she imagined the headlines when it all came out. Elvis the Bridesmaid Killer. It had to have been him, especially with this past she had no idea about. The police had come for him and he had no option but to go, that confirmed his guilt.
She thought back to all the messages he was getting at all hours, the passwords on his phone and laptop, his evasiveness and his increasing irritation towards her; the fact that he was pushing her away when she wanted affection. All the signs were there. She had to find out what he’d been up to but he’d been one step ahead. She was sick of passwords. She hit send on another message.
Kerry, please answer me. I’m worried about you.
Maybe Kerry had been hurt. She had been fine when they’d been drinking together. Elvis had been out. Maybe when he went back out he’d hurt Kerry. Stop it, Cass. You’re letting your imagination run away with you.
Just tell me you’re okay then I’ll stop messaging. I need to know you’re safe. Please message me. Cass.
Phew, Kerry had now read all of her messages. Cass held her breath. Kerry was typing, then she stopped. She swallowed and swiftly went back to Kerry’s Facebook page, her trembling fingers almost accidentally closing the app. The last thing Kerry had posted was how sad she was over what had happened to Fran. She flicked over to Instagram. Kerry always posted at least a couple of selfies a day, but nothing. Not a selfie in sight. Twitter – nothing. Kerry started typing again. Cass bit her bottom lip as she waited.
Cass, please stop messagin me ov and over again. I’ve got nough to deal with and I cant handle all these messages. I’ve just lost my 2 best friends.
Kerry was still drunk. That was it. That had to be it, otherwise she’d want Cass to go over to be with her. The spelling in the message told her all she needed to know. She almost tripped over her rug as she started to pace again. Then again, didn’t drunken people always tell the truth? Maybe she was being officially friend dumped again. After all she’d done to change, all for Kerry.
I’m sorry. I just wanted to help you. I didn’t mean to upset you. Cass.
She couldn’t help sending another message. She had to smooth things over. She waited and waited. This time Kerry hadn’t read the message and her photo greyed out. She’d been blocked. She flung the phone onto the coffee table and slumped into the threadbare armchair. At this moment, she had no one. How dare Kerry dump her again? How dare she?
Cass gripped her over-spilling muffin top under her jumper and punched it with the other hand.
She wasn’t good enough. She hadn’t tried hard enough.
She stood and ran to the bathroom, taking a moment to stare at her reflection. The crooked eyeliner and deep pink lipstick made her look like a clown. Elvis was right. She looked ridiculous. She pulled a few sheets of dry loo roll and rubbed her face like she was scrubbing tidemarks from the bath. That’s all she was to everyone, a dirty, ugly, tidemark. She rubbed and rubbed at the make-up until it had smudged and her face had reddened. She looked even more revolting when she sobbed, knowing that she’d never be a Lilly, a Holly or a Frannie. Never would she be good enough for Kerry. She wouldn’t look good in a wedding photo.
She had to make Kerry see that they could become the best of friends still. She was upset, that was all. She hadn’t meant to block Cass from messaging her. Cass had to speak to her before rumour got out about Elvis going down to the station. This would not defeat her. She had some investigating of her own to get on with and it started with her boyfriend.
Hurrying to the bedroom, she emptied Elvis’s drawers, feeling along the backs of them for a clue, anything. She checked under his side of the bed and amongst his shoes. As she tipped his old Doc Martens boot upside down, several packages dropped out onto the floor. Tiny cellophane wrapped white powder and lumps of black, which she knew was cannabis resin. Wiping the tears from her face, she stood and put her coat on. She couldn’t sit around any longer. Kerry had made a mistake in blocking her and she was going to fix it.
Chapter Fifty
Gina and Briggs sat as they waited for Robin Dawkins to say something. A twinge ran through her hand – she wanted to slam it onto the table and demand that he talk. Also, Phillip Brighton’s solicitor had turned up. Jacob and PC Smith were interviewing him at that very moment. Gina felt a warmth coming from Briggs as she pulled her chair in closer.
‘Mr Dawkins, please answer the question. Where were you last night between six and eight in the evening?’ It was the third time she’d asked him and her patience was wearing thin. Given his past assault on a girl at school he had now shot up to the top of her list of suspects. She pictured her hand slamming onto the table and him recoiling as he spilled out all the answers. She gripped her hands together in her lap.