‘Yes, I do know that. And I won’t, I don’t know anything. Vague theories and background are all I’ve got at the moment. I’ve recently learned a lesson about online defamation, so I won’t post anything without “allegedly” or “according to a source”. And if I do find anything concrete, I’d come to you first anyway.’

‘Oh,’ Hawkins said. ‘Well, I appreciate that. So, with this podcast, how do you record your interviews?’

Why did he need to know that? Or was this just idle chit chat while he waited on something? What – for a colleague to look into her alibi? Surely that would take hours.

‘Just this audio software,’ Pip said. ‘Or if it’s a phone call, I have an app that can do it.’

‘And do you use microphones, say if you were recording someone face to face?’

‘Yes.’ Pip nodded. ‘Microphones that plug in by USB to my laptop.’

‘Oh, that’s very clever,’ he said.

Pip nodded. ‘Bit more compact than this guy,’ she said, gesturing her head towards the tape-recorder machine.

‘Yes,’ Hawkins laughed. ‘Quite. And do you have to wear headphones when you’re interviewing someone? Listen through those while you record?’

‘Well,’ Pip said, ‘yes, I put on my headphones at the start to check the sound levels, see whether the person is too close to the microphone or there’s background noise. But I don’t usually need to wear them throughout an interview.’

‘Oh, I see,’ he said. ‘And do they need to be specialist headphones, for that purpose? My nephew wants to start a podcast, see, and he’s got a birthday coming up.’

‘Oh right,’ Pip smiled. ‘Um, no, mine aren’t specialist. Just some big, noise-cancelling ones that go over your ears.’

‘And can you use them for everyday use too?’ Hawkins asked. ‘Listening to music, or podcasts even?’

‘Yeah, I do that,’ she said, trying to understand the look in Hawkins’ eyes. Why were they talking about this? ‘Mine connect by Bluetooth to my phone, good for music when you’re running or walking.’

‘Ah, so good for everyday use, then?’

‘Yep.’ Pip nodded slowly.

‘Would you say you use them daily? Don’t want to get him something he won’t use, especially if they’re expensive.’

‘Yeah, I use them all the time.’

‘Ah great,’ Hawkins smiled. ‘Do you know what brand yours are? I’ve had a look on Amazon and some are ridiculously expensive.’

‘Mine are Sony,’ she said.

Hawkins nodded, a shift in his eyes, almost a flicker.

‘Black?’ he asked.

‘Y-yes,’ Pip said, her voice catching in her throat as her mind doubled-back, trying to understand what was going on here. Why she had a sinking feeling in her gut; what had it realized that she hadn’t?

‘A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder,’ Hawkins said, running one hand up his sleeve, fidgeting. ‘That’s the name of your podcast, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good name,’ he said.

‘It has pizzazz,’ Pip replied.

‘You know, there’s just one other thing I wanted to ask you.’ Hawkins sat back, one hand crawling down towards the outside pocket of his jacket. ‘You said you haven’t had any contact with Jason Bell. Not since the memorial in April, right?’

Pip hesitated. ‘Right.’

A twitch in Hawkins’ cheek as he dropped her eyes, glancing down at his fingers as they dug inside his pocket, bulky with something, Pip finally noticed. ‘Explain to me then, why your headphones, the ones you use on a daily basis, were found inside the home of a murdered man you’ve had no contact with in months?’

He pulled something out. A clear bag with a red strip at the top reading Evidence. And inside the bag were Pip’s headphones. Undeniably them: the AGGGTM sticker Ravi had had made for her wrapped around one side.

They were hers.

Found at Jason Bell’s house.

And Hawkins had just made her admit it on tape.

The shock didn’t last long, not before the panic set in. Curdling in her stomach, rising up her spine, quick as insect legs or dead man’s fingers.

Pip stared at her headphones in the evidence bag and she didn’t understand. No, that couldn’t be right. She’d seen them in the last week, hadn’t she? When she was working on the audio of Jackie’s interview. No, no, she hadn’t been able to find them; she thought Josh had borrowed them again.

No, the last time she’d had them was... that day. She’d taken them off, put them in her rucksack before knocking on Nat’s door. But then Jason grabbed her.

‘Are these yours?’ Hawkins asked, his gaze a physical sensation on her face, an itch she couldn’t ignore, watching her for any giveaway. She couldn’t give him one.

‘They look similar,’ Pip said, speaking slowly, assuredly over the panic and her hummingbird heart. ‘Can I see them closer?’

Hawkins slid the evidence bag across the table, and Pip stared down at the headphones, pretending to study them while she bought herself time to think.

Jason had had her rucksack in his car. She’d checked before she and Ravi left the scene and she thought she had everything she’d packed that afternoon. She did, except the headphones. She hadn’t been thinking about them because they’d gone in after. But where, when...

No. That sick fuck.

Jason must have taken them out. When he left her there, wrapped up in tape, he went home. He looked through her bag. He found the headphones and he took them. Because they were his trophy. The symbol for his sixth victim. The thing he would clutch close to relive the thrill of killing her. Her headphones were his trophy. That’s why he took them.

That sick fuck.

Hawkins cleared his throat.

Pip glanced up at him. How should she play this? How could she play this? Was there any play left to make? He’d caught her in a lie, a direct link to the victim.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘Those are mine, of course. The sticker.’

Hawkins nodded, and now Pip understood that look in his eyes and she hated him for it. He’d trapped her. He’d caught her. Spun a web she couldn’t see until it was wrapped around her, cutting off her air. Not free, not safe, not free.

‘And why did a forensic team find your headphones inside Jason Bell’s house?’

‘I-I,’ Pip stuttered. ‘I honestly cannot tell you. I don’t know. Where were they?’

‘In his bedroom,’ Hawkins said. ‘Top drawer of his bedside table.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Pip said, and that wasn’t true because she knew exactly why they were there, how they got there. But she couldn’t find any other words because her mind was busy, the plan shattering into a million pieces, cascading behind her eyes.

‘You said you use your headphones daily? All the time,’ he quoted her. ‘Yet you haven’t had contact with Jason Bell since April. So how did your headphones get there?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, shuffling in her seat. No, don’t shuffle, that makes you look guilty. Stay still, stare back. ‘I use them all the time, but I haven’t seen them lately –’