‘Having a McDonald’s.’
‘What time was that?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Were you alone?’
‘Don’t know.’
Gilchrist sighed.
‘Who are your best friends at school?’
‘Don’t have any.’
‘A loner, are you?’
‘Suppose I must be.’
‘Are you popular?’
Cassidy gestured at herself with her taped fingers.
‘Doesn’t seem like it, does it?’
‘Do you have particular enemies?’
‘No.’
Gilchrist glanced again at the WPC who was staring blankly at the opposite wall.
‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
Cassidy twisted her mouth into a sneer.
‘Did. You lot put him away.’
‘In a youth detention centre?’
Cassidy shook her head. A look that might have been pride came on to her face.
‘In prison.’
Gilchrist sat back.
‘He’s in prison? How old is he?’
A smug expression crossed the young girl’s face.
‘Twenty-two.’
‘And you are?’
‘Coming up to fourteen.’
Gilchrist pursed her lips.
‘What’s he in for?’
Cassidy’s expression changed to something less certain. Something confused.
‘Killing his best friend.’ Gilchrist stared at her. ‘Then chopping him up.’
Gilchrist started.
‘Your boyfriend is Gary Parker?’
The look of pride came back on to Cassidy’s face.
‘You’ve heard of him?’
Some months earlier Gilchrist had taken a call from a man saying that his friend, this Gary Parker, had phoned from Hove to brag he’d just killed his flatmate and dismembered him. Gilchrist had gone to the scene and found the remains of a dead man with various body parts strewn around the flat. An arm had been discovered in a children’s paddling pool on the seafront and Parker had been found sitting under the Palace Pier, cradling his friend’s head in his lap.
Gilchrist found it hard to keep the revulsion off her face as she looked at this young girl bragging that the creature Gilchrist had unfortunately encountered professionally was her boyfriend. She needed to get out. She stood.
‘OK, well, that will do for now. If anything comes back to you before we visit again, just give us a call.’
Gilchrist turned for the door.
‘Have you heard of him?’ Cassidy said.
Gilchrist nodded without looking round.
‘I’ve heard of him.’
As Gilchrist reached the door, Cassidy called: ‘Don’t worry about whoever did this. My dad’ll sort ’em.’
Gilchrist turned.
‘Who’s your dad?’
Cassidy had the smirk on her face again.
‘They’ll wish they’d never been born.’
‘So you do know who they are?’
‘I told you I didn’t.’
‘Then how is your father going to sort them if you don’t know who they are?’
Cassidy gave a little shrug.
‘Does your father live in Milldean?’
Cassidy shook her head.
‘Sarah Jessica, who is your father?’
‘Who said you could use my first name?’
‘Names, actually, Miss Cassidy, names. And, incidentally, if I hadn’t come along when I did, you would quite probably be dead now.’
As she stalked down the corridor, Gilchrist regretted saying that. Her mind was reeling with the thought of this girl with Gary Parker. She was curious about the identity of Cassidy’s father. But most of all, as she glanced at her reflection in the windows she passed, she was thinking of one thing.
‘
On the way out of the hospital Gilchrist bumped into a hard-faced blonde who’d clearly had a boob job and wanted everyone to know it, judging by the amount of cleavage on display.
‘Mrs Cassidy,’ Gilchrist said. ‘Could I have a quick word?’
‘I’ve already told you I don’t know nothing,’ Cassidy said, in a cigarette-wrecked voice.
Gilchrist ushered her over to a bench. When they were seated, Gilchrist said: ‘It’s about her boyfriend.’
Cassidy fished out a cigarette from her coat pocket.
‘My daughter is very independent for her age.’
‘You didn’t mind her going out with a twenty-two-year-old man?’
‘She goes her own way.’
‘You didn’t mind she was probably having sex with a twenty-two-year-old man?’
‘Look, dear, I don’t know about you but I lost mine when I was twelve. To my dad. He’d been poking about before then but he’d always said he’d wait until I was a woman — you know, until I’d started my periods — before he gave me a proper seeing to. And I know you’re not supposed to say this these days about whatchamacallit — incest? — but he was quite good at it. I’d much rather a twenty-two-year-old who knows a bit than a pimply thirteen-year-old who can’t find the right hole to stick it in.’
‘Even if he murders and cuts up his flatmate?’
Cassidy adjusted her left breast unselfconsciously, lifting then releasing it.
‘Yeah, well, that came after.’
‘But he’s clearly a psycho.’
Cassidy thrust her face at Gilchrist.
‘Look, dear, I don’t know what la-di-da men you knock about with but we live on Milldean. Different world, different rules. All I’ve ever known is violent men. He was a bit rough round the edges but until he did what he did he seemed normal.’
Gilchrist slid back along the bench a few inches.
‘So you accept that what he did wasn’t normal?’
‘Course I bloody do — I’m not touched, you know.’
Gilchrist cleared her throat.
‘Who is Sarah Jessica’s father?’
Cassidy narrowed her eyes.
‘None of your fucking business; excuse my French.’
‘Sarah Jessica said he’d sort out her attackers.’
