Chapter 56
Chapter fifty-six
The clock ticked on towards nine. Sloan took one sip of the vending-machine coffee and left it to go cold.
She’d paced, then read every poster on the wall—everything from knife crime statistics to “If you see something, say something” public service announcements.
Eventually, she sat in the cleanest-looking plastic bucket chair in the corner.
Her knee bounced hard enough to rattle the entire row.
Gloria had called twice; the only bright spot, if she were honest. Her mum was taking an interest—not because she meant to be snarky, but because she was concerned.
It reminded her of life before the stroke, before her dad had passed—days when Gloria had been someone else.
Something Matty had helped bring back.
She let her thoughts roam and couldn’t help the small smile that played on her lips when she thought about Matty. Then doubt crept back in. How well did they actually know each other?
She snapped out of it when the door opposite her opened and a balding Black man in a sharp suit stepped out and looked around. He was neat and composed, jaw dark with stubble that was well on its way to being a beard.
Everything about him said ‘detective’.
Sloan watched as he spoke with the duty officer, then glanced at her and turned back to him before nodding and finally turning to walk towards Sloan.
Sloan straightened her posture on instinct, smoothing her skirt as he approached.
“I’m DS Dale Saint. I believe you wanted to speak with me?” he said. His voice was soft-spoken, kind—the sort of tone that put you at ease.
“Yes.” Sloan stood. “I’ve been told my girlfriend is here and you’re holding her for some reason. I’d like to know why.”
“I’m not at liberty to give you much at this stage. I can tell you that we are holding Ms Bradford, and we are taking this very seriously.”
“Taking what seriously?” Sloan asked urgently. “What has she done? She’s not a criminal.”
He half-smiled at her. “Evidence will decide that. And right now, that’s what I’m gathering. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”
Sloan stepped back. “Me?”
“For corroboration. How long have you known Matty?”
“A few months. She works for my mother. She’s been helping to take care of her while I’m working.”
He nodded. “So, you don’t know her very well?”
Sloan narrowed her gaze at him and brought her voice down to a whisper. “I know enough to be very comfortable leaving my disabled mother in her care.”
“I hear you.” He guided her back towards the corner. “Have you ever visited Matty’s home?”
“The horrible little bedsit above the Polish shop?”
He smiled again. “That’ll be the one. I’m taking that as a yes.”
“Yes. Once.” She stopped. “Unless you count this evening. That’s how I discovered she was here.”
“What can you tell me about her flatmate?”
“Which one?” Sloan asked.
His head tilted slightly, his face taking on a curious look. “Any of them.”
“Well, the man…can’t think of his name.” She thought hard. “Brendan? Anyway, he’s…” She turned her nose up. “A character, if I’m being generous. He smokes weed. The whole place stinks of it.”
Saint nodded. “Go on.”
“The woman, I don’t know much about, but then neither did Matty.
She said she was a bit of a mystery, out all night with friends partying, home most of the day recovering.
She seemed…rough round the edges, if I’m being honest. When I arrived unexpectedly to see Matty, the woman shouted—no, bellowed—up the stairs that I wasn’t the police. ”
“So, she was expecting the police?”
Sloan shrugged. “I assumed it was so Brendan would get rid of whatever he was smoking.” She pursed her lips. “Brandon…it’s Brandon, not Brendan.”
“And what does Sarah look like?”
“Uh, white, about five foot four maybe, average build. Dark hair. Attractive, if you like shabby chic.”
“Okay, thank you. That’s really helpful.”
“And what about Matty? When are you letting her out?”
“I imagine she will be with us for most of the night. You should go home, get some rest.”
“Is she entitled to make a call?”
“If she wants to,” he answered. “She hasn’t as yet.”
“Have you offered? Isn’t that her right? Or is that just the movies?” Sloan sighed. She was so out of her comfort zone.
“If she wants a call, we will arrange it.”
“Does she need a solicitor?”
“It probably wouldn’t hurt to think about that. She’s asked for a solicitor, so one will be provided for her tonight.” He turned and walked away.
When he reached the door, Sloan said, “Detective Saint?”
He turned back towards her. “Yes.”
“Can you tell her I’m here?”
“I’ll see what I can do, but right now, she’s in a heap of trouble. She needs to focus on that.”
Sloan nodded but said nothing further.