‘Maybe they’ll take notice of us, though.’ Vicky scanned the street. ‘Wonder where the parents are?’
‘What, because you broke up their little gathering?’
‘Right. I mean, it’s not exactly far away, is it? Why has it taken them this long to get back here?’
‘Maybe they’re waiting for Carly’s parents? That whole moral support thing?’
‘Maybe.’ Vicky peered in the front window. Dark inside, and hard to make anyone out in the flickering strobe, but the music cut from house music to something Vicky hadn’t heard in a long time. ‘Poison. The Prodigy. Christ, that takes me back.’
Kids started jumping around inside the room, shouting ‘Ya!’ in time with the record.
‘Bugger it.’ Karen tried the door handle, and it opened wide, the music bleeding into the reeking smell of cannabis. ‘Christ, the parents are only a few doors away, not in Spain.’ She stepped inside and cupped her hands around her mouth. ‘Police!’
The music stopped dead and the kids all looked around, the nearest girl’s mouth forming a shocked O. She looked about twenty, older than the others.
Vicky charged over and grabbed her arm before she could flee. ‘We’re looking for Ashley Mitchell.’
She frowned. ‘That’s me. What have I done?’
‘Do your parents know about this?’
Ashley shrugged. ‘They’re cool with it. Out at some lame-ass dinner party.’
Vicky checked around the room again. Karen was doing a good job of blocking the door and stopping anyone leaving. A lot of drunk teenagers, hiding behind the dining table covered in DJ equipment. The mixmaster himself looked about forty, though.
Vicky focused on Ashley again. ‘Aren’t you a bit old for this crowd?’
‘What? I’m sixteen.’
‘Right.’ Vicky wasn’t sure that was true. ‘We’re looking for Carly Johnston and Teresa Ennis.’
‘Very pleased for you.’
‘It’s a serious matter.’
‘So?’
‘So, Ashley, you need to talk to me.’
‘Free country.’
‘Even freedom has its limits.’ Vicky held her gaze, and it was much harder than it should be with the blonde fringe covering Ashley’s eyes. ‘Especially as Carly’s body was found this evening.’
The O returned to her lips. ‘What?’
‘This isn’t about your party, Ashley, but your parents will probably be here soon, so you should get this lot packed away.’
‘Right.’ Ashley waved over at the middle-aged superstar DJ. ‘Kenny, can you—?’
‘Aye, aye.’ His voice was a fractured squeak.
Ashley led Vicky away from the throng towards a warm-looking kitchen. A young couple snogged by the window and didn’t pay much attention to anything except each other’s underwear. ‘Okay, were Carly and Teri here?’
Ashley let out a sigh. ‘Aye, they were. But for like five minutes. Too cool for this kind of thing.’
‘Know where they went?’
‘Think they went to meet their boyfriends?’
A statement voiced as a question. Did that mean she was more or less likely to be telling the truth?
‘Do you know where?’
‘Sorry, but they’re like really stuck up?’
‘Did Carly or Teri ever talk about their boyfriends?’
‘Look, I don’t know what you think is going on.’
‘Your parents were at Carly’s house. Aren’t you close?’
‘Carly ain’t my friend.’ Ashley rolled her eyes at them. ‘We used to be, but she, like, thinks she’s better than us.’
‘Right. I totally get that.’
‘I mean, Teri is good people.’ Jesus, all these Americanisms. Dundonian slang will be a lost art soon enough. ‘She sits next to me in English.’
‘And did Teri ever talk about any boyfriends?’
‘Like, I think so.’ Ashley’s eyes darted around the room. ‘But I don’t know.’ She frowned. ‘Carly’s really dead.’ Her questions were like statements.
Vicky nodded. ‘Her parents just identified her.’
‘What happened.’
‘We just need to speak to her boyfriend.’
The couple in the corner broke off from their snog. The boy – tall and skinny – was smirking. ‘Isn’t it Gary?’
‘Shut up, Josh?’ Ashley shook her head at him. ‘And get out of here! She’s a narc.’
Josh and his dark-haired lover darted out of the room.
Vicky settled her gaze on Ashley. ‘I’m not a fed.’
‘You are?’
‘No, I’m a police officer.’
‘Same difference.’
‘Ashley, who is Gary?’
She rolled her eyes again. ‘Josh is such a douchebag. Why did he have to do that?’
‘Okay, but you know who Gary is?’
Still shaking her head, Ashley pointed into a big dining room extension. ‘He’s in there.’
‘Thank you.’ Vicky walked back into the hall and spotted Karen, still guarding the door, and got the thumbs up. Not her first rodeo, by any stretch. Vicky turned and entered the dining room, still with that smell of fresh paint.
A few kids sat around a dining table playing poker and smoking a cigar. A cigar that smelled funny. What did they call it when they hollowed a cigar out and replaced it with marijuana?
Great, these kids thought they were rappers.
‘Put the…’ oh yeah, ‘…blunt down.’ Vicky stood at the head of the table. ‘Which one of you is Gary?’
The kids were barely sixteen, but were trying to look and act like adults. They left their cards face down, poker chips in the middle of the table, and all got up.
The one with the blunt rested it on the edge of a can of Hooch alcoholic lemonade and pointed to the back of the room. ‘That’s him.’ He shot off after his mates.
Someone was shouting, ‘It’s the pigs!’ Through the house, doors slammed, kids shouted and thundered down the staircase.
Karen had lost the battle.
This room looked out onto a well-kept but narrow garden, pebbles spread out around flower beds, some mature trees with benches, and the giant oak at the back with a swing on it. Only one pair of kids had braved the elements to sit on the swing and kiss. Probably so pissed they weren’t aware of the police presence.
A lone kid was watching them, hand pressed against the glass. Dark hair down to his shoulder, greasy and something he could hide behind. He held a box of red wine, swigging from the nozzle.
‘Gary?’
He turned around to look at Vicky, frowning and completely off his face. Eyes rolling, mouth hanging open. ‘Huh?’
‘Are you Gary?’
‘Depends.’ He burped, long and loud. ‘Who’s asking.’
‘Detective Sergeant Vicky Dodds.’ She held out her warrant card.
‘Right.’
