She frowned but Ferreira saw the affection in her eyes. It surprised her but of course Nadia had feelings for Patrick Sutherland. He’d groomed her, charmed her, sprung her from Long Fleet and brought her to his home. Twenty years old, vulnerable and alone, how could you not feel a little love for the person who did that for you?
‘By the time he’d finished tidying up, he seemed a lot calmer as well,’ Nadia said, her face clouding over. ‘He was fine until we went to bed.’
Ferreira felt a uneasy sensation creep across the back of her neck.
‘Patrick went for a shower and when he got out he couldn’t find his hairbrush.’ She looked between them, absolutely perplexed. ‘He was using this voice he has when he’s trying to sound reasonable, but I can tell he’s really irritated by something. He asked me if I’d moved it and I said I hadn’t. Then he asked if I’d used it, and –’ She gestured at her curls. ‘Of course I hadn’t. I don’t know why he was so wound up about it.’
‘Was it there before the break-in?’
She considered this briefly. ‘I think so. It was there before Patrick went to work because I remember him brushing his hair while I was in the shower.’
Ferreira bit down on the satisfied smile she felt tugging at her face.
Ainsworth had broken into Sutherland’s house for DNA to test against Dorcus’s baby. That was why he only went as far as the bathroom. He knew what he wanted and where he’d find it. He probably had no idea Nadia was even in the house. No idea she was with Sutherland at all maybe.
She glanced at Zigic but his profile was set straight and hard as he looked at Nadia.
‘Was anything else taken?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Just Patrick’s hairbrush.’
‘How did he act the next day?’ Ferreira asked.
Nadia inclined her head towards her, twisting her mouth into a thoughtful shape. ‘He was quieter than usual. I didn’t want him to go into work but he said he couldn’t let them down. They were short-staffed since Dr Ainsworth left and they were having trouble getting a decent locum. He was very stressed out at work.’ Spoken like a wife describing her long-suffering husband. ‘I was worried that Dr Ainsworth might come back again but Patrick said he wouldn’t. He was very certain.’
‘Why do you think that was?’
‘He said, “He got what he came for.”’ Her gaze drifted across the tabletop, as if she was still trying to understand the comment. ‘But I was still scared. I made sure everywhere was locked and closed all the blinds. I just sat on the sofa and waited for Patrick to come home.’
Zigic took a deep breath, resigned-sounding, but Ferreira knew he was readying himself for the next part. It felt like they were close to something but there was always the fear in the moments before you levelled your most important questions that they would result in answers you didn’t want.
‘On the Saturday night,’ Zigic said slowly. ‘Saturday the 4th, what did you and Patrick do?’
Again Nadia looked to Ms Hussein before she would answer and again the solicitor gave a reassuring little nod. It was beginning to look like prompting and Ferreira wondered if Zigic was thinking the same thing, how malleable Nadia would seem in a witness box. How a jury wouldn’t trust her testimony if it appeared to be directed like this.
‘Patrick was very quiet on Saturday,’ she said, sliding her hand nervously up the sleeve of her T-shirt and gripping her shoulder, looking defensive. ‘I wanted to go out but he wanted to stay at home, but then he didn’t want to do anything there either. He spent a long time in the bathroom with the door locked and I don’t think he was doing anything, he just didn’t want to be with me.’ She was troubled by the thought, hurt in her eyes as she recalled it. ‘We had dinner and watched a film and then Patrick said we should have an early night.’
‘What time was this?’ Zigic asked.
She shrugged. ‘Around ten, I think. I remember thinking it was too early to go to bed and I wanted to watch a couple of episodes of How to Get Away with Murder.’
Ms Hussein’s nostrils flared in alarm and Nadia realised what she’d said.
‘It’s just a show.’ She looked desperately between them. ‘It’s not like a how-to guide.’
‘Great show,’ Ferreira said reassuringly. ‘So addictive.’
Nadia calmed slightly and went on. ‘So, we went up and Patrick brought me my sleeping pill and I went to bed.’
‘Do you usually take a sleeping pill?’ Ferreira asked, already suspecting the answer by the matter-of-fact way Nadia mentioned it.
‘I’ve been taking them ever since I got out,’ she said. ‘I can’t sleep without them.’
‘And does Patrick usually decide when you’re going to take one?’
Nadia’s shoulders rounded even further, like she wanted to fold herself up. ‘No, he isn’t like that. He’s not controlling.’
‘But he insisted that night?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘And I didn’t think it was that weird because I wasn’t feeling great, and he was trying to look after me and make sure I got enough sleep, so I thought, he’s a doctor, I should probably listen to him.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I fell asleep and that was it.’
‘Did Patrick leave the house that night?’ Ferreira asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Did you hear anything? His car leaving maybe?’
‘I was knocked out,’ she said. ‘They’re really strong pills.’
‘What about the next morning? What time did you get up?’
‘My alarm’s set for eight.’
‘And was Patrick at home?’
‘Yes, he was in bed with me.’
‘How did he seem to you?’
‘Normal,’ Nadia said. ‘He didn’t wake up when my alarm went off but he doesn’t always, so I left him in bed and went down
