Sister Sister(66)

This time Evans retrieves a till receipt. ‘Looks like it’s for this paint. Bought yesterday at the garage on the main road into Brighton. Paid for with cash. At seven p.m.’ She looks up at me. ‘Can you tell me where you were at this time?’

My mouth dries a little. This isn’t looking too good for me. ‘I was on my way home from the hospital. I’d been to see Pippa.’

‘Ah, Mrs Stent. And this was after you had an argument with her about her daughter’s accident?’

I nod. It would be at this point I’d advise anyone to seek legal advice. I realise that the evidence is stacking up against me. It’s not exactly overwhelming evidence, although admittedly, we’re heading for ‘without reasonable doubt’ territory. There is nothing solid to place me at the scene or to prove I bought the aerosol and then went to Pippa’s. Although the traces on red paint on the towbar of my car aren’t exactly in my favour, it doesn’t mean I did it.

‘We’d like you to come down the station with us for questioning and to make a formal statement,’ says Evans.

‘Are you arresting me?’ I ask

‘No, at the moment we’re still gathering evidence. You do, of course, have the right to refuse and then I perhaps would consider formally arresting you on the grounds of suspicion of causing criminal damage,’ says Evans. ‘But, then, you know all that anyway.’

‘But I have work,’ I say. Leonard will go mad if I don’t turn up, especially after taking the afternoon off yesterday. ‘Can I come down at lunchtime?’

‘No, Mrs Tennison, we would like to you to come now, voluntarily.’

I decide not to oppose. The quicker this is done, the quicker I can get to work.

‘I’ll ring Leonard,’ says Luke, already one step ahead of me.

‘And, please don’t touch the car,’ says Evans. ‘We’ll be sending someone out to take photos and paint scrapings in case we need forensics to do a paint match.’ What she really means is, in case I don’t confess to reversing into Pippa’s car, covering it in graffiti and, instead, make up some other story as to how I have red paint on my car, a dent and an aerosol can.

I follow Evans and Doyle out to the squad car. I look over at Luke, who gives a shake of his head before turning back to the house. As the car pulls away, I look back to the house and see Alice watching from the living-room window. I’m struck by the memory I have of Alice leaving with my father. I sit back in the seat and concentrate on trying not to cry.

It’s three hours before I’m finally allowed to leave the police station. I’ve made my statement, been interviewed by Evans and Doyle and steadfastly refused to admit to causing the damage to Pippa’s car, pointing out that it is circumstantial evidence thus far. Evans says she will look at the CCTV footage from the garage before they go ahead and press any charges.

Luke collects me from the station and I give him a quick résumé of the past three hours.

‘Basically they are checking CCTV, checking the aerosol can for fingerprints and taking some paint samples from the tow bar in case they need to run it through forensics for a match on Pippa’s car. Oh, and let’s not forget the poo sample from my shoe to check for a DNA match with the poo on Pippa’s car.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes. Apart from the DNA bit, but the way that bloody Evans was going on, I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s hardly a murder.’

Luke lacks any empathy for my black humour. ‘They haven’t charged you?’

‘Not at this point.’ We sit in silence. Neither of us knowing what to say. We seem to have run out of words for each other. I call Leonard.

Never one to beat about the bush, Leonard gets straight to the point. ‘Clare, what the fuck is going on? I’ve just had to deal with McMillan out of the blue. You had an appointment with him today. I’ve had to convince him he’s not dealing with some Mickey Mouse outfit.’

‘McMillan? I didn’t have an appointment with him today, I say. ‘It’s tomorrow, I’m certain.’

‘You rearranged, apparently.’

‘Yes, I did, but for tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.’ I run my hand down my face. I feel as if I’m losing my grip on reality. All these things that I think I may or may not have done. None of it is making sense.

‘I don’t think you’re up to the job at the moment,’ says Leonard. ‘As such, I’m taking over the case. I want you to take some time off work to get whatever is going on at home sorted out.’

‘I’m on gardening leave?’ I feel indignant. We’re equal partners and yet he’s treating me like I’m an employee. ‘I don’t think that’s up to you to decide.’