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“Tell us about Rachel Garrett,” Storm says.
The sudden change of topic seems to disconcert Kurt Gibbon. His piggy eyes blink rapidly. “What about her?” he says pugnaciously.
“You were seen at The Half Moon pub on Friday the night she was murdered.”
“So I went to a pub. So what? I didn’t know she was there.”
“You were seen talking to her.”
“I meant I didn't know she was going to be there. So I talked to her. I knew her, didn't I?”
“We’ve spoken to two of your pals. They tell us you had a soft spot for Rachel. You were always buying her nice things. Expensive things.”
“That’s not true.”
Storm removes a selection of plastic evidence bags from a file box one by one. He slides each one across to Kurt Gibbon, whose jaw tenses as each one emerges. Inside them is a selection of jewelry, perfume, expensive makeup.
“Did you give these things to Rachel Garrett?”
“No.”
Storm pulls out a fancy presentation box from Harrods that has a silver charm bracelet inside. “If we run your fingerprints against the ones on this box, do you think we’ll get a hit? Or how about if we check your bank statements? Do you think will find that you bought this charm bracelet?”
“So what if I did?” says Gibbon. “She was a pretty girl. Men give nice things to pretty girls all the time.”
“So you’re confirming that you gave these things to Rachel?”
Gibbon clearly decides he has lost this point. He smirks. “She liked me or she wouldn’t have taken them.”
“And you liked her?”
“Sure I liked her. I like a lot of girls.”
Leo gestures at the evidence bags. “This stuff is worth a lot of money. And you’re not exactly making big bucks. This girl was special to you. You liked this girl better than all the rest.”
“Did you see what she looked like?” Gibbon licks his lips. “She was gonna give it up to me any day. I was this close to popping her cherry.” He holds his index finger and thumb a centimeter apart.
“Did you get jealous when you saw her at the bar with other men?” says Storm. “Young successful city banker men? Dancing and flirting late in the night?”
Gibbon shrugs. “It didn’t bother me. She was coming home to my house at the end of the night, wasn’t she?”
“But she didn’t come home that night. Did you follow her out of the bar? Did you try to make her come home with you? After all, you’d given her all of this expensive stuff and she’d given you nothing. She was stringing you along, keeping you wanting more. Did you get tired of it?”
Gibbon laughs. “She was a little tease. That sweet face and that tight little body.” He licks his lips. “She liked to pretend to be a good girl, but I knew she was bad. I knew she wanted it.”
“A little tease, huh?” says Leo. “Maybe she teased you too much. Maybe you weren’t going to put up with it anymore. Is that why you killed her?”
“I didn’t need to kill her. She was gonna give me what I wanted. It turned her on. A dirty little secret. She liked that as much as I did.”
“I look at you, and then I look at her, and I just can’t see it,” says Leo. “She was twenty-three, at the start of her life, the sort of girl any successful young man would want. And here you are, fifty-four, unemployed, two failed businesses behind you. Not exactly a catch.”
Gibbon leans back in his seat and shrugs. “It was a game. She liked to play games.”
“Maybe it was you that liked to play games,” says Leo. “Maybe you followed her to the bar. I bet you liked that. Invading her space. Cornering her in front of her friends. Embarrassing her. Making her afraid that you would tell everyone her dirty little secret. Is that what you did?”
Gibbon laughs. “Maybe that is what I did. So what? Is not illegal to go to a bar and talk to a girl. You’ve got nothing on me.”
Storm and Leo keep at him, but the slimy bastard gives nothing up. He knows they have nothing on him. He knows Storm’s team are not going to be able to hold him with that lack of evidence.
