27 | What happened
27 | what happened
CARA
‘Could you state your full name and date of birth for the record, please?’ DC Shelby Collins asked, her tone both gentle and authoritative. Beside her, DC Nathan Okonkwo sat, ready to document the details on his laptop.
I complied, my voice trembling slightly with nerves.
‘Please, tell us what happened tonight, Miss Darby,’ Shelby continued, her pen poised to write supplementary notes in a pocketbook.
I glanced at the small digital camera mounted on a tripod in the corner of the compact room, then at the voice recorder placed in the centre of the white table before me. A sense of gravity settled over me, knowing that every word I uttered might later echo in a courtroom.
Taking a deep breath, I began recounting the events of the evening, from when William and I arrived at the hotel to the moment I accompanied him to the hospital. My voice broke occasionally as I paused to collect myself, the persistent ache in my chest a constant reminder of the night’s trauma. Beside me, John sat still, his hand over mine as he listened. I glanced at him now and then, seeing his bloodshot eyes and the silent tears that escaped him.
After allowing me a brief pause, Shelby asked gently, ‘What’s the nature of your relationship with William?’
I swallowed, my eyebrows furrowing. ‘Well, strictly speaking, I’m not his girlfriend yet, but it’s heading in that direction.’
Shelby tucked a curly, copper-coloured lock behind her ear, a bemused expression on her face. ‘Could you elaborate a bit more on that?’
I bit my lip, struggling to find the right words. ‘We’re involved, but unofficially. We haven’t really defined what we are to each other yet.’
Nathan leaned slightly forward, his brown, doe-like eyes seeking mine. ‘Could you clarify what you mean when you say “unofficially”?’
‘Yes, sorry. I mean that we’re seeing each other, as in dating, but we’ve maintained discretion as we explore things. A few people know about us, but we’re not at a stage where we’ve publicly announced that we’re in a relationship.’
Shelby nodded, writing something down. ‘Whose idea was it to keep things discreet?’ she asked, her tone soft.
A frown creased my forehead. Why did the specifics of how William and I managed our privacy matter to them?
‘Er, mine,’ I admitted, stealing a quick, uneasy glance at John. ‘Will’s wanted to make things official for a while now – since we met, really.’
As Nathan’s fingers flew across his laptop keyboard, he looked up briefly. ‘Why did you want to keep things discreet?’
The question made me squirm, especially under John’s watchful presence. ‘I’m interning at William’s workplace, and he’s my boss. I’m… supposed to be shadowing him, not dating him.’
To my relief, there was no judgement in their eyes – not from Shelby, Nathan, or even John. A small, grateful sigh escaped me.
‘Have you been seeing each other exclusively?’ Shelby asked.
From her tone, it sounded like it was important to distinguish this fact. I paused, reflecting on their questions – so focused on the nature of our relationship. It hinted at a deeper motive. As I mulled over it, a chilling thought began to form: was there a connection between our romantic relationship and the attack?
A fierce wave of nausea hit me, my heart throbbing with dread. The idea that my involvement with William could have played a role in what had happened to him was too much to bear.
‘Yes,’ I said, swallowing hard. ‘Exclusively.’
Shelby nodded. ‘When did you meet?’
It was easy to remember the date. It was just three days after William’s birthday, after all. ‘April twelfth, this year.’
Shelby wrote something down. ‘Have things been stable between you the whole time?’
I averted my gaze and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. For a fleeting moment, I regretted having John here. Exposing him to the more unflattering aspects of my personal life wasn’t my intention, and I feared it might alter his perception of me. Yet, I knew full transparency could be necessary for the investigation.
‘Not exactly,’ I murmured. ‘We were on-and-off in the beginning, but that’s my fault.’
Nathan paused, his fingers combing through his frizzy, black beard. ‘Why is that?’
‘It’s complicated.’ I sighed, fidgeting with my gown under the table. ‘When we met, I wasn’t looking to date anyone. Then I found out he was Jason’s brother and soon to be my boss for the vacation scheme. It just seemed inappropriate to get romantically involved with him.’
‘Why did it concern you that he’s Jason’s brother?’ Shelby inquired.
‘Jason’s my best mate. I was worried that if things went pear-shaped with Will, it could ruin our friendship.’
She nodded, taking notes. ‘And how did William react to your reluctance to get romantically involved with him?’
‘You don’t need to answer that,’ John said calmly, stepping in. ‘I’m not sure how this pertains to the matter at hand.’
I paused, tilting my head as I tried to make sense of their line of questioning. ‘I’m also unclear on the relevance,’ I said, looking between the detectives.
‘Detective Collins,’ John said, ‘could you clarify how these details are relevant to your investigation?’
Shelby and Nathan exchanged a quick, unreadable glance.
After a moment, Shelby replied, ‘We’re just trying to get an idea of William’s character. Understanding his temperament could shed light on tonight’s incident.’
John’s hand came to rest reassuringly on my shoulder. ‘Cara, remember, you’re not obligated to answer any questions, especially if they’re not directly related to the assault.’
Nodding, I straightened on my chair, resolved to avoid providing any details that might inadvertently harm William. ‘Could we proceed to the next question, please?’
Shelby’s lips tightened into a thin line. She glanced down at her notes before meeting my gaze again. ‘Miss Darby, at the gala, did you observe anything that struck you as unusual or concerning?’
My thoughts immediately went to Nigel. ‘Yes. There was a man who approached William – Nigel Ashcombe, General Counsel at Gastronomy Group. They talked about a complaint William recently lodged with the CMA regarding Gastronomy Group’s business dealings.’
Nathan quickly typed on his laptop. ‘Could you tell us a bit more about that?’
‘Yes, of course.’ I recounted the conversation between the two men, emphasising that it had seemed less like an offer for constructive dialogue and more like a veiled threat. ‘For example, I vividly remember Nigel saying that he hoped William would make the right decision, and that in their profession, the line between oversight and overreach can be thin, and the consequences of crossing it unexpectedly severe.’
Shelby and Nathan exchanged another glance, then took a moment to write down my account. Meanwhile, I sensed John’s gaze on my profile. I turned to him, feeling a pang of guilt for not sharing this with him sooner. His lips were parted with shock, his eyes brimming with concern.
‘Anything else?’ Shelby asked, drawing my attention.
I hesitated, meeting her gaze as I sifted through my memories. Was there more to tell? Anything I might have missed? I bit my lip, the responsibility heavy on my shoulders as I desperately wanted to provide something, anything that might assist William. My thoughts spun, yet nothing more surfaced.
‘No, not that I can recall right now,’ I murmured, feeling a sense of defeat.
Shelby nodded understandingly before turning to Nathan. Their eyes locked briefly in a silent exchange before Nathan focused back on his laptop. The room felt unusually tense as the sound of his keystrokes filled the silence.
After a brief pause, he raised his gaze to mine. ‘Miss Darby, does the name Oliver Seymour ring any bells for you, perhaps from direct contact or otherwise?’
My heart stuttered at the mention of the name, a sense of unease tightening around my chest. Oliver? Why did that name unsettle me so? Then, like a slow, creeping tide, realisation washed over me, freezing my blood. Oliver – the banker. William and I had chatted with him earlier, his presence barely registering in my mind until now.
As the pieces fell into place, a cold dread enveloped me, sending a shiver down my spine. I recalled the precise moment I last saw Oliver: he’d been walking toward the gents shortly after William had gone in the same direction. I’d been dancing with Alex at the time.
Was he the one who had harmed William? But… why? Their earlier exchange had seemed amiable enough. Yet, as I dwelled on it, I remembered the faint stiffness in William’s smile. Then, as we excused ourselves, Oliver’s stare had pressed heavily against me, his expression shifting ambiguously as our eyes met.
‘I…’ I paused, closing my eyes as I sought to quell the tempest within. ‘The name Oliver does ring a bell. William and I briefly chatted with a man named Oliver at the gala, though I never got his surname.’
Nathan rotated his laptop toward me, the screen alight with the photo of a man. Recognition coiled tight within me as I beheld him – his dark hair, his green eyes, that trimmed black beard and those rugged features.
‘Is this the man you spoke with?’
‘Yes.’ Tears sprang to my eyes, blurring my vision. I felt sick, my stomach churning. ‘Is he the one who attacked Will?’
‘Yes,’ Nathan said and turned his laptop back around.
I grimaced, my whole body starting to tremble. I had talked to him. Completely unsuspecting, I had talked to the man who had beaten William within an inch of his life. He had even smiled at me right before he attacked.
‘He smiled at me,’ I said, my words breaking into sobs. ‘That monster actually smiled at me right before he went after Will.’
Nathan and Shelby looked at each other.
‘Did he?’ Nathan’s tone was gentle, probing.
‘Yes,’ I said vehemently, tears streaming down my cheeks. The shock of his duplicity was almost too much to bear. I could scarcely believe it – that he would smile at me, all the while planning to harm William. ‘Right before he attacked Will,’ I repeated. ‘I was dancing with Alex.’
John took my hand, holding it firmly.
Nathan folded his arms, taking a moment to consider his next question. ‘Did you notice anything when you talked to him? Was there any tension between him and William? Anything you found… conspicuous or odd?’
I breathed deeply, wiping my cheeks with my free hand. ‘They seemed friendly.’ I snuffled. ‘I got the impression they hadn’t talked in a while – that they weren’t very close. Merely acquainted. Will’s smile was a bit stiff, but he was friendly and polite, as was Oliver. They briefly discussed work and things like that. Trivial things.’
Shelby’s expression softened, her eyebrows knitting together as her lips turned downward in a show of sympathy. ‘Would you like to take a break, Miss Darby?’
I shook my head, swallowing hard to steady my voice. ‘No, I’m fine, thank you.’
Nathan leaned back. ‘Did William mention anything about Oliver to you after your interaction?
‘Not really. He seemed unfazed,’ I said. ‘He quickly shifted his focus to introducing me to Alex’s mother, Beatrice.’
Shelby nodded thoughtfully. ‘Besides what you’ve shared about Nigel Ashcombe, has William ever mentioned receiving any threats, perhaps related to his professional life or otherwise?’
‘No. Not to me, at least.’
Nathan rubbed his neck. ‘When you talked with Oliver, did either of them share how they knew each other?’
I shook my head. ‘No. But William mentioned afterwards that he met him while he studied at Cambridge.’
Shelby reached for a bottle of water on the table, unscrewed the cap, and set it down in front of me. I let go of John’s hand and quickly grabbed it, taking a grateful swig. All this crying was drying me out.
Nathan leaned forward again, asking, ‘Do you know whether William was seeing anybody else before you came along?’
I nodded. ‘He’s got an ex named Kate – I forget her surname – but they split about five years ago.’
‘Katelyn Leigh Irving,’ John interjected. As he spelled it out, Shelby quickly wrote it down.
‘Nobody more recent?’ Nathan asked, his tone neutral.
I frowned. ‘Seeing anybody’ was a bit ambiguous. ‘Do you mean romantically or sexually?’
Shelby shrugged. ‘Either, or both.’
‘Then, yes,’ I said, the confirmation heavy on my tongue.
‘Yes?’ Shelby subtly cocked her head to the side. ‘Meaning?’
‘He was.’
‘Sexually, romantically, or both?’
‘Sexually,’ I clarified, glancing briefly at John. His expression was unreadable, his eyebrows giving a quick twitch that revealed nothing of his thoughts.
‘Have you met them?’ Shelby asked.
I paused, parsing her words. Was she implying she knew about multiple partners, or was it a general inquiry? Her use of the plural form gnawed at me. Could she know about William’s past liaisons? It seemed improbable given William’s discretion and her lack of direct contact with him. Could Andy have disclosed something?
‘Yes,’ I finally responded, maintaining my composure. ‘I’ve met them.’
‘What’s their name?’
I didn’t fail to notice her switch to singular form. She didn’t know, then; she was fishing.
I clenched my teeth, torn between naming Francesca or Violet, but lingering too long on the decision might arouse suspicion. Trusting my instinct, I said, ‘Francesca Strafford.’
Shelby looked at Nathan, who quickly typed something, then swivelled his laptop around to show another photo. My heart contracted as I recognised the striking features of the dark-skinned beauty, her hazel eyes gazing back at me.
Francesca.
‘Is this her?’ Nathan asked.
One of them.
‘Yes,’ I said, feeling a heavy weight drop in my stomach. How was Francesca related to this?
My gaze fell on Shelby’s freckled face as Nathan turned his laptop back toward himself. Each new revelation hit me harder than the last, filling me with dread. I feared what might still be lurking in their files – some hidden detail that could, with just a few misplaced words from me, perhaps cast William in an unfavourable light.
Shelby leaned back in her chair, toying with her pen. ‘How would you describe William’s relationship with her?’
‘You don’t have to answer that,’ John cut in firmly. I gave him a nod, grateful for the reminder.
‘Next question, please,’ I said.
Shelby’s lips tightened momentarily, a sign of her frustration. Beside her, Nathan shifted in his seat and inquired, ‘Has William ever mentioned any boyfriends or exes of Francesca to you?’
I frowned, puzzled by the direction of his questioning. Was he implying Oliver was Francesca’s ex? ‘No.’ I swallowed, a cold shiver rippling down my back. ‘Why?’
Shelby held my gaze, unblinking. ‘Apparently, Oliver’s been Francesca’s boyfriend for the past seven years.’
Her words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs.
‘What?’ I wheezed. ‘You mean they’re still together?’
Nathan and Shelby exchanged a glance before Shelby said, ‘According to Oliver, they ended their relationship two weeks ago, but we haven’t had confirmation from Francesca yet.’
Their stares bore into me as I grappled with this new information. If their claims held any truth, William had been involved with Francesca while she was still in a relationship with Oliver.
Suddenly, Oliver’s motive became crystal clear: he was a spurned lover seeking revenge.
‘There’s no way William knew about their relationship. He would never have got involved with her if he knew,’ I blurted out. Almost immediately, a troubling thought surfaced: given William’s ties to both of them, it was conceivable that he might have known at some point. But… No, it didn’t add up. William would never have slept with a woman who was in a relationship with somebody else. Francesca must have deceived him; she must have told him they had broken up, and since William hadn’t met Oliver in a long time, he wouldn’t have known that she was lying. Nothing else could explain this.
‘Anything on your mind, Miss Darby?’ Nathan’s deep voice broke through my contemplation, laced with a hint of suspicion. He must have caught the brief hardness that overtook my features.
I shook my head quickly, easing the stiffness from my posture. ‘No, it’s nothing. I’m just taken aback. I’m sure William believed she was single.’
Nathan looked at Shelby, their thoughtful expressions telling me they were considering their next steps.
‘Any more questions on your end?’ he asked her, his eyes briefly flicking back to his laptop screen.
Shelby took a moment, her eyes darting between Nathan and myself. ‘I reckon we’ve covered what’s necessary for now. However, we want to be thorough. Is there anything else you think we should know, Miss Darby?’
After my negative response, Shelby seemed satisfied. She pressed a button on the voice recorder. ‘Thanks for your cooperation,’ she said, her tone indicating that they had got what they needed from me – at least for now.
‘Is Oliver still in custody?’ I asked, my voice laced with anxiety.
‘Yes.’
‘Will you press charges? Surely this must qualify as grievous bodily harm. He attacked Will with a knife.’
Nathan shook his head. ‘We can’t speak to that so early in the investigation.’
‘But just, hypothetically, if you were to charge Oliver with GBH, would he be granted bail?’ My voice was edged with desperation as I searched for any assurance that Oliver would remain behind bars.
Nathan paused, stroking his thick, black beard. ‘Hypothetically, it would depend on whether it’s GBH with intent. Should we determine there was intent, bail would be highly unlikely.’
‘That’s all for now, Miss Darby,’ Shelby said, offering me a small smile. ‘We appreciate your time. You’ve been a great help – thank you.’
Getting up, I gave John a grateful look.
‘Could you get Mrs Night to come over?’ Shelby asked me then. ‘We’ve got a few questions for her and Mr Night as well.’
‘Of course.’
After a final handshake with the detectives, I returned to where the others were waiting. Daphné was nestled against Jason, both of them eyeing me with a blend of curiosity and concern.
‘Daphné,’ I called softly. ‘They’d like to speak with you and John next.’
She stood up slowly, her expression sombre, and made her way to join her husband.
Taking the seat Daphné had just left, I sank back, the reality of the situation settling heavily on my shoulders. Relief that I wasn’t to blame for what had happened to William did little to ease my distress; it couldn’t undo the fact that he lay unconscious, his future hanging by a thread.
‘What did they want to know?’ Jason asked, his hand clasping mine, his palm slightly clammy.
I turned to him, my eyebrows curving slightly. ‘They wanted the full run-down of the evening first. After that, they moved on to how I know William, and they ended up telling me who attacked him.’
‘Oliver Seymour,’ Andy interjected. ‘Francesca’s boyfriend – or ex.’
I faced him, seeing his heavy nod and the fury swirling in his eyes.
‘Do you think Will knew about them?’ I asked.
He frowned, his jaw tensing. ‘Absolutely not.’
‘I met him earlier – at the gala,’ I murmured. ‘He and Will seemed to be on friendly terms.’
‘You spoke with him?’ Jason’s voice cracked with disbelief.
I averted my eyes, my gaze falling to my lap. ’We both did, briefly. Will mentioned knowing him from his Cambridge days, but it seemed like they were just acquaintances.’
‘Will and I studied at Cambridge together, and I never met Oliver,’ Andy said, rubbing his hands together between his knees. His expression turned thoughtful, his brow creasing. ‘Will must have met him via Kate,’ he murmured. ‘Kate and Francesca were best friends back then, and Francesca was with Oliver at the time.’
‘I see,’ I whispered, barely audible, and rested my head on Jason’s shoulder.
We turned quiet after that. Jason’s familiar scent enveloped me, a comforting presence amidst the chaos. I hoped my presence was as reassuring to him.
William was the love of my life, but at that moment, my heart ached for Jason and his parents. John and Daphné had watched their son grow from an infant into the accomplished man he was now. To face the prospect of losing him… I had always believed that losing a child was the deepest grief one could endure. And for Jason, the potential loss of his brother – his role model and best friend – it had to be crushing. My sympathy for their anguish was boundless; such a devastating possibility was more than any family should ever have to endure.
As we sat there, waiting for more information, my heart throbbed painfully. I shut my eyes, silently praying again, pleading with God to let William pull through, to give me a chance to rectify my mistakes.
He doesn’t even know that I love him , I thought in despair. Dear God, please let him wake up. I need him to know that I love him, that I’ll never stop. I’ve learned my lesson now. I’ll never take our time together for granted again. Just please, let him wake up.
Time seemed to stretch and bend until finally, Daphné and John returned.
Jason looked at them, his eyes wide with questions. ‘Well?’
‘We’ll talk about it later,’ John said. ‘Now’s not the time.’
Jason nodded understandingly, his gaze drifting toward the detectives as they headed for the hospital exit. ‘Where are they off to now?’ he asked.
John glanced at me. ‘To another witness.’
Probably Francesca, I thought bitterly.
John and Daphné settled into the seats opposite us, their hands linked in silent support. My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. We had been in this sterile waiting room for hours, yet there was still no word on William’s condition.
Time crawled by until I noticed a female doctor entering through the doors leading to the major trauma centre. I had seen her earlier, when I arrived at the hospital with the ambulance crew. She approached the reception desk with purpose, speaking briefly with the receptionist before turning to address the room.
‘Daphné Night?’ she called out.
Daphné rose tentatively, her light-blue eyes flickering with the first signs of hope I had seen in hours. My heart ached for her; the weight of her fear was palpable.
‘Yes?’ Her voice was fragile, unsteady.
The doctor approached, her narrow face marked with dark circles of fatigue around her eyes. Her brown skin glimmered under the harsh fluorescent lights. ‘I’m Dr Jacintha Patel,’ she introduced herself, extending a hand to Daphné. ‘I oversee your son’s care. He’s just woken up. ’