‘DI Hawkins called me, asked me to come in for a chat,’ Pip replied, digging her hands into her back pockets so Eliza wouldn’t see how they shook. Calm down. Need to calm down. She could crumble inside, but she couldn’t let it show.

‘Oh, right.’ Eliza stepped back. ‘I’ll just go tell him you’re here, then.’

Pip waited.

She watched as an officer she knew, Soraya, hurried through reception, stopping only briefly to swap quick hellos and how are yous. Pip wasn’t covered in blood this time, not the kind you could see, anyway.

As Soraya walked through the locked door at the back, someone else came through the other way. DI Hawkins, his limp hair pushed back, his face paler than usual, greyer, as though he’d spent too much time in this building and its colour was leaching into him too, claiming him.

He can’t have slept much since Jason’s body was found.

‘Hi, Pip.’ He beckoned her over and she followed.

Down that same corridor, from the bad, bad place to the worse, worse place. Treading in her own out-of-time footsteps again. But this one, this Pip, she was the one in control, not that scared girl who’d just seen death for the first time. And she might be following Hawkins now, into Interview Room 3, but really he was following her.

‘Please, have a seat,’ Hawkins gestured her into a chair, taking his own. There was an open box on the floor beside him, a pile of files inside, and a tape recorder waiting on the metal table.

Pip sat on the edge of her seat and nodded, waiting for him to begin.

He didn’t though, he just watched her and the darting of her eyes.

‘So,’ Pip said, clearing her throat. ‘What did you want to ask me about?’

Hawkins leaned forward in his chair, reaching for the tape recorder, the bones in his neck clicking. ‘You understand that even though this is voluntary, and we just want you to help us with our inquiries, I still need to interview you under caution and record our conversation?’ His eyes searched her face.

Yes, she understood that. If they seriously considered she had something to do with it, she would have been arrested. This was standard practise, but there was a strange look in his eyes, like he wanted her to be afraid. She wasn’t, she was in charge here. She nodded.

Hawkins pressed a button. ‘This is Detective Inspector Hawkins interviewing Pippa Fitz-Amobi, the time is 11:31 a.m. on Tuesday the 25th of September. This is a voluntary interview in relation to our inquiry into the death of Jason Bell and you can leave any time, do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Pip said, directing her voice towards the recording device.

‘You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’ Hawkins sat back, his chair creaking. ‘So,’ he said, ‘I heard the trailer for the new season of your podcast, as did hundreds of thousands of other people.’

Pip shrugged. ‘I thought you could use some help on this case. Considering you needed me to solve two of your previous cases for you. Is that why you asked for a chat today? Need my help? Want to give me an exclusive for the podcast?’

‘No, Pip.’ The air whistled through his teeth. ‘I don’t need your help. This is an active investigation, a homicide. You know you cannot be interfering and posting important information online. That’s not how justice works. The journalistic standards apply to you too. One might even see this as contempt.’

‘I haven’t posted any “important information”, it was just a trailer,’ she said. ‘I don’t know any details of the case yet, other than what you said in the press conference.’

‘You released an interview with a...’ Hawkins glanced down at his notes, ‘Jackie Miller, speculating about who might have killed Jason Bell,’ he said, widening his eyes as though he’d scored a point against her.

‘Not the whole interview,’ Pip said, ‘just the most interesting clips. And I didn’t name the person we spoke about. I know that might prejudice any potential future trial. I do know what I’m doing.’

‘I’d say the context made it quite obvious who you were talking about,’ Hawkins said, reaching down for the box of files beside him. He re-righted himself, a small pile of papers clutched in one hand. ‘After I heard your trailer, I spoke to Jackie myself, as part of our inquiries.’ He shook the pages at her, and Pip recognized an interview transcript. He placed the transcript down on the metal table, flicked through it. ‘I think there was a certain amount of bad blood between Max Hastings and Jason Bell,’ he read aloud. ‘You hear these things around town, especially when you own a café on the high street... Jason must have hated Max for what he did to Becca, and how it was connected to Andie dying... certainly seemed like Max didn’t like Jason either... A lot of anger there. It was pretty violent. I’ve never had a situation like that between two customers. And, as Pip said, isn’t it concerning that that was just two weeks before Jason was murdered?’ Hawkins finished reading, closed the transcript and looked up at Pip.

‘I would say it’s a fairly standard first step in an investigation,’ Pip said, not dropping his eyes, she wouldn’t be the first to look away. ‘Finding out if anything unusual happened recently in the victim’s life, identifying anyone who had any ill will towards him, potential persons of interest. A violent incident leading up to his murder, interviewing a witness. Sorry if I beat you to it.’

‘Max Hastings,’ Hawkins said, his tongue hissing three times as it tripped over the name.

‘Seems like he’s not very popular in town,’ Pip said. ‘Has a lot of enemies. And apparently Jason Bell was one of them.’

‘A lot of enemies,’ Hawkins repeated her words, hardening his gaze. ‘Would you call yourself one of his enemies?’

‘I mean,’ Pip stretched out her face, ‘he’s a serial rapist who walked free, hurt some of the people I care about most. Yes, I hate him. But I don’t know if I have the honour of being his worst enemy.’

‘He’s suing you, isn’t he?’ Hawkins picked up a pen, tapped it against his teeth. ‘For defamation, for a statement and an audio clip that you posted to social media the day the verdict was read in his sexual assault trial.’

‘Yes, he was going to,’ Pip replied. ‘As I said, great guy. We’re actually settling out of court, though.’

‘Interesting,’ Hawkins said.

‘Is it?’

‘Well.’ He clicked the pen in his hand, in and out, and all Pip heard was DT DT DT. ‘From what I know of your character, Pip, from our handful of interactions, I’d say I’m surprised you’ve decided to settle, to pay up. You strike me as the type who would fight to the very end.’

‘Normally I am,’ Pip nodded. ‘But, see, I think I’ve lost my trust in the courts, in the justice system, criminal or civil. And I’m tired. Want to put it all behind me, start fresh at university.’

‘So, when was it you came to this decision, to settle?’

‘Recently,’ Pip said. ‘Weekend before last.’

Hawkins nodded to himself, pulling another piece of paper from a file at the top of the box. ‘I spoke with a Christopher Epps, the solicitor representing Max Hastings in this defamation matter, and he told me that you called him at 9:41 p.m. on Saturday the 15th of September. He says that’s when you told him you wanted to accept a deal he had offered you a few weeks prior?’