“Yeah, son. I know what you meant.” Eric felt a little aggrieved. There was no intent in the comment but his disdain for city living may have accidentally shown through. “If she isn’t here, you’re on your own. I’ve got a full caseload I’m working on and this is as much time as I can spare.”
“Fair enough,” Eric replied, smiling, trying hard to convey gratitude in the face of the perceived slight. They resumed course to the flat, two doors and barely four metres away. There was a window to the front shrouded in a net curtain and a half-glazed front door. Eric rang the doorbell, hearing it sound inside. They waited but there was no movement. He pressed it again, holding it down for altogether longer than was polite. Leaning forward, he tried to see though the obscured glass.
“I guess that’s that.” Chambers thrust his hands into his pockets. “You’re more than welcome to hang around here but I’ve got things to—” A shadow appeared on the other side of the glass and the door was unlocked. A bleary-eyed woman cracked the door open, peering at them warily. Her general appearance was dishevelled and it was clear they’d woken her up.
“Police,” Eric explained, opening his wallet to reveal his identification. “Amanda Stott?” She nodded, glancing between the two of them before unlocking the chain and pulling the door open. They followed her inside. The flat was in a bit of a state, bearing the remnants of a heavy party the previous night. There was one living room, the kitchen and then another door presumably leading to the bedrooms. The air stank of stale cigarettes. Several ashtrays were dotted around, each full to overflowing. There were empty beer and wine bottles, takeaway cartons and associated crockery with dried on remnants of food.
Amanda offered them a seat. Eric wasn’t keen, worried he might sit in spilt alcohol, food or worse but didn’t want to appear impolite. Not twice in as many minutes. He cut to the chase. “I’m here to ask you questions about Ken Francis.” At mention of the name her eyes widened, if only slightly, and she took a deep breath.
“That’s all done. I’ve said everything I have to say on it. I made a mistake.” As she said the words, she averted her eyes from his and Eric knew he’d caught her off guard but she was more awake now, alert.
“We’re not here to reopen the case, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he explained. “I’m down from Norfolk. We’re investigating another matter and Ken has surfaced in the inquiry. I’m trying to get some background, that’s all.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I’m not looking to apportion blame nor make trouble for you but I need to know about the nature of your relationship with him. With Ken.”
“Relationship. That’s an interesting description for the pervy old sod.”
“Then why did you back out of the prosecution?” Eric asked. She didn’t strike him as one to be cowed. Ken Francis was an athletic man but hardly intimidating. Not to him at least. She met his eye before casting a nervous look towards Chambers. He was leaning on the doorframe, looking disinterested. Eric followed her gaze. Chambers took the hint.
“All right. I’ll wait outside,” Chambers said, sighing. Moments later they heard the door click and the two of them were alone. Eric was pleased. They could have an off the record conversation. He didn’t mind. Anything she said that could be used in a case would be useless anyway. Her prior withdrawal and change of statement would render her credibility highly suspect.
“You got a smoke?” she asked. Eric shook his head. He’d never smoked. Amanda looked disappointed. “It’s like this… I needed the money. I don’t like Ken and I know his type, acting all new-age and presenting as some kind of guru. He’s nothing but an egotist with a streak of misogyny running through him.” She started rummaging around the detritus on the table and opening cigarette boxes. The third proved a positive result and she found a couple of cigarettes inside. Offering one to Eric, he declined. She sparked one up, taking a stiff draw. “I’ll admit, I found him interesting. I thought he was into me, too, until I realised he would quite happily go at it with anyone who came into his studio. Randy old sod!”
“You wanted to get even?” There was no suggestion of judgement in his tone. It was clear she was hurt by his actions and people dealt with that in different ways.
“At first I was just angry. I had a go at him. He couldn’t care less but then…” She sat back, blowing smoke from her nose and shaking her head slightly. “I was so angry with him. I went back with the intention of hurting him the only way I could think of.”
“Which was?” Eric sensed reticence but anything she told him would be inadmissible for he was alone with her and she hadn’t been read her rights.
“I was going to trash his stuff. The pictures he did of me, at least.” She sneered and Eric thought she was reacting to the art.
“You didn’t like it?”
“Looking back, he had such a fetish for red, always wanting me to wear it. Red lipstick, dress, skirt… whatever. He said it was his signature statement or some other crap like that.”
“Takes all sorts,” Eric said with a smile. “Did you? Trash his pieces?” She shook her head. Maybe filing a claim of assault looked far more damaging and offered less personal risk.
“I went back but when I got there this girl came out.” Amanda’s knee was vibrating as she shook her leg. It looked involuntary to him. “This girl, that’s what she was, a girl… can’t have been older than sixteen, maybe even younger. It’s hard to tell sometimes, isn’t it. Anyway, she was crying. I looked after her. Took her away.”
“He assaulted
