Chapter Eighteen #2
Jen ignored Miller and turned to the son. ‘So, you’d be happy to let us take your fingerprints and a swab for DNA?’
Silence, and then the father spoke again. ‘I don’t think you can insist on that, Officer, unless you’re prepared to charge my son with a crime, and I really don’t think you have sufficient evidence to do that, have you?’
Now, Jen couldn’t keep quiet. ‘Most innocent people volunteer to help the police in this situation.’
‘Perhaps they do, but I’d prefer not to have my son’s details on record.’ He sounded now more like a dodgy lawyer than a businessman. Why was that? Perhaps he didn’t believe Daniel’s story either.
Ross turned back to the son. ‘You did leave the music festival at the same time as Lottie, though?’ His voice was unthreatening, but certain, implying that the two young people had been seen together, that they had a reliable witness, but really, it was no big deal.
Daniel took a little while to answer, as if he was dredging through his memory for the details.
‘We might have walked out of the field together,’ he said at last. ‘We chatted for a bit. I liked her. She was good fun. Didn’t mind a bit of banter.’
‘But then you drove home, just as you had on Saturday night?’
There was another moment of hesitation.
‘Yeah.’
‘You were seen leaving the festival field at about six. So, you’d have been back here in Torr at six-thirty, seven at the latest.’ Ross smiled and waited.
‘No!’ Daniel tried to sound indignant but only came across as shaken. ‘I had to get everything back to the pub.’
‘According to the Brennans the festival wrapped up early evening, and the beer tent was cleared soon after.’
‘Not the takings.’ Daniel was rattled now. ‘I had to drop them in.’
‘Was Lottie with you?’
Daniel shook his head. ‘No way. She didn’t want to go back into the Fisherman’s, not after the run-in with Jim Hooper.’
‘So,’ Jen said, ‘you did have a conversation with Lottie as you left the farm?’
‘I’ve already told you. We were chatting.’
‘How did she seem?’ Jen aimed for a gossipy tone.
‘A bit bored, to be honest. She was used to a bit more excitement in her life.’ Implying that he was too.
‘Is that why she made those videos, mocking MillsFest?’
Daniel shot her a look and laughed. ‘You know about those? Yeah, I guess.’
‘What time did you actually get back here on Sunday evening?’ Jen’s tone was sharper now. She looked across at Miller. ‘Perhaps your dad will be able to help with the details.’
‘I didn’t come straight back here,’ Daniel said too quickly. ‘I caught up with some surfing friends. Had a few drinks so I left the car at their place. I went from there to work on the Monday morning.’
‘Your friends will be able to confirm that?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘Did you actually come home on Sunday night?’ Ross looked at Miller first and then at his son.
‘I assumed that he was in,’ Miller said. ‘I was up here in the office. Fending off alligators.’
‘I’m sorry?’ For a moment, Jen thought the man must be mad, then she remembered Ben in his room at home, losing himself in some computer-generated battle. ‘Is that some sort of computer game?’
Miller gave a throaty laugh, relieving the tension in the room a little. ‘Nothing like that. Business jargon. It means fighting off a hostile takeover bid. I was advising a small company, talking through tactics.’
Jen turned to the son. ‘Well, Daniel, did you come home on Sunday night?’
He seemed about to bluster then thought better of it. He looked awkward. Very young.
‘Where were you?’ Jen persisted. ‘Of course we’ll check.’
‘Getting pissed in a bar on the harbour with a bunch of surfing mates. I crashed out on someone’s floor.’
‘Oh Daniel!’ The man was angry now. ‘I thought that had stopped. The drinking. The unsuitable friends. I thought you’d started growing up.’ He seemed more concerned now about his son’s adolescent behaviour than about the possibility that the lad could be suspected of murder.
‘We’ll need contact details for the person you stayed with,’ Jen said. ‘Of course we’ll have to check.’
‘Sure.’ There was the same mixture of arrogance and sullenness that made Jen want to hit him. ‘Sure. Sammy’ll be in now, I expect. He works late shifts in the bar at the Victoria. He’s not a morning person.’
* * *
Daniel had told them that Sammy lived in accommodation for employees at the Victoria Hotel.
Jen supposed they’d never keep seasonal staff if they had to find their own places.
All the rental flats would be ridiculously expensive, especially in the summer.
There was an ugly three-storey sixties block behind the hotel, shielded from the customers by a high brick wall.
The only view from the rooms would be of the car park or the kitchen.
It had the air of shabby student accommodation – single rooms with shared very basic kitchens and bathrooms. There was a key code to let them into the building.
Daniel had given them the code and directions once they got inside.
Sammy’s room was at the end of a corridor.
They could hear the music before they got anywhere close.
So, Jen thought, he was awake. She’d bet that Daniel had phoned his friend and warned him that they’d be coming.
But when they reached the end of the corridor and knocked on the door, there was no answer, and it seemed now that the thump of heavy metal bass was coming from the neighbouring room.
Jen pushed on Sammy’s door, but it was locked.
She banged on the door with the music. The sound was lowered.
‘All right, all right,’ someone shouted from inside. A woman’s voice. ‘I’ve turned it down.’
Jen banged again and shouted, ‘Police.’
The door opened and a skinny young woman with hair so black that it must have been dyed looked out.
‘What do you want?’ She pulled the door closed behind her, but Jen could still smell the blast of weed.
‘Not you, love. I want a word with Sammy.’
‘Oh.’ The woman sounded relieved that she wasn’t the target of their attention. ‘He’s left. He had a row with the management and walked out last night.’
Of course he did, Jen thought. And I bet he told his best mate Daniel that he’d be leaving. So, Daniel would know it was safe to name him as an alibi.
‘Any idea where he’ll be?’
The skinny woman shook her head. ‘Not a clue.’
Vicki Robb had been in the police station in Barnstaple, phoning hotels and B&Bs in Torr, trying to track down the Kinzalows. Jen saw there’d been a missed call from her as soon as they left the Victoria Hotel staff quarters and phoned her back.
‘What have you got for me?’
‘No joy. I can tell you where they were staying before they started camping at Millscombe, but Ross had already tracked that down and there’s no information about where they’ve been since they left.’
‘Okay, Vick. Maybe spread the net a little bit wider. We know they have a vehicle. They could be anywhere. They might even have headed back to London. But let’s check places within a twenty-mile radius of Torr to begin with.
’ She had a thought. ‘Did you check with the Victoria?’ It occurred to Jen that if the Kinzalows were shadowing the Armstrongs, this might be an obvious place to be.
‘If not, we’re here and can ask at reception. ’
‘Yep, it was one of the first places I tried. No one of that name staying there.’
‘Of course you did.’
Vicki was talking again. ‘The boss is on his way to London to speak to the dead girls’ head teacher. Shall I ask him to try the Kinzalows’ London address if he has time? I’ve found out they’re still renting an apartment in the city.’
‘Terrific. Thanks.’
‘What are you going to do now?’
Jen thought about that. It seemed to her that the whole morning had been a waste of time.
She was certain that Daniel Miller had been lying to her, but she couldn’t prove it and had no idea why.
She was tempted to go back to the flash new house where he lived with his family, demand to look at the student’s phone to see any messages between Daniel and Sammy.
But she suspected that any visit would be fruitless.
If Daniel had any sense, he’d be on a beach somewhere with his phone switched off surfing with his friends.
‘We’ll come back to Barnstaple,’ she said. ‘I want to check the videos that Lottie put on social media. Let’s see if they can give us a clue about why someone would have wanted to kill her.’