SS:

No, none. I had plans with my friends.

Police:

Because redacted Sec 40 (2) said that when Andie left the house at around 10:30 p.m., she presumed Andie was going to see her boyfriend.

SS:

No, Andie knew I was at my friend’s house and wasn’t meeting her.

Police:

So where were you last night?

SS:

I was at my friend redacted Sec 40 (2) house. Do you want to know times?

Police:

Yeah, sure.

SS:

I think I got there at around 8:30, my dad dropped me. And I left at around quarter past 12 to walk home, my curfew is 1 a.m. when I’m not staying over somewhere. I think I got in just before 1, you can check with my dad, he was up.

Police:

And who else was with you at redacted Sec 40 (2) house?

SS:

redacted Sec 40 (2)

redacted Sec 40 (2)

Police:

And did you have any contact with Andie that evening?

SS:

No, I mean she tried to call me at 9ish, but I was busy and didn’t pick up. I can show you my phone?

Police:

redacted Sec 40 (2)

And have you had any contact with her at all, since she went missing?

SS:

Since I found out this morning, I’ve called her like a million times. It keeps going to voicemail. I think her phone is off.

Police:

OK and redacted Sec 40 (2) did you want to ask . . .

Police:

. . . Yeah. So, Salil, I know you’ve said you don’t know, but where do you think Andie could be?

SS:

Um, honestly, Andie never does anything that she doesn’t want to do. I think she could just be taking a break somewhere, her phone off so she can just ignore the world for a bit. That’s what I’m hoping this is.

Police:

What might Andie need a break from?

SS:

I don’t know.

Police:

And where do you think she could be taking this break?

SS:

I don’t know. Andie keeps a lot to herself, maybe she has some friends we don’t know about. I don’t know.

Police:

OK, so is there anything else you might want to add that could help us find Andie?

SS:

Um, no. Um, if I can, I’d like to help in any searches, if you’re doing them.

Police:

redacted Sec 30 (1) (b)

redacted Sec 30 (1) (b)

OK then, I’ve asked everything we need to at the moment. I’m going to end the interview there, it’s 4:06 p.m. and I shall stop the tape.

OK, deep breath. I’ve read it over six times, even out loud. And now I have this horrible, sinking feeling in my gut, like being both unbearably hungry and unbearably full.

This does not look great for Sal.

I know it’s sometimes hard to read nuances from a transcript, but Sal was very evasive with the police about what he and Andie were arguing about. I don’t think anything is too private that you wouldn’t tell the police if it could help find your missing girlfriend.

If it was potentially about Andie seeing another man, why didn’t Sal just tell the police? It could have led them to the possible real killer right at the start.

But what if Sal was covering up something worse? Something that would have given him real motive to kill Andie. We know he’s lying elsewhere in this interview; when he tells the police what time he left Max’s.

It would crush me to have come all this way just to find out that Sal really is guilty. Ravi would be devastated. Maybe I should never have started this project, should never have spoken to him. I’m going to have to show him the transcript, I told him just yesterday that I was expecting a reply any day now. But I don’t know how he’s going to take it. Or . . . maybe I could lie and say it hasn’t arrived yet?

Could Sal really have been guilty all along? Sal as the killer has always been the path of least resistance, but was it so easy for everyone to believe because it’s also true?

But no: The note.

Somebody warned me to stop digging.

Yes, the note could have been someone’s idea of a prank, and if the note was a joke, then Sal could be the real killer. But it doesn’t feel right. Someone in this town has something to hide and they’re scared because I’m on the right path to chasing them down.

I just have to keep chasing, even when the path is resisting me.

Persons of Interest Jason Bell Naomi Ward Secret Older Guy Nat da Silva Daniel da Silva

Fifteen

‘Take my hand,’ Pip said, reaching down and cupping her fingers round Joshua’s.

They crossed the road, Josh’s palm sticky in her right hand, Barney’s lead grating in the other as the dog pulled ahead.

She let go of Josh when they reached the pavement outside the cafe and crouched to loop Barney’s lead round the leg of a table.

‘Sit. Good boy,’ she said, stroking his head as he looked up at her with a tongue-lolling smile.