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Leaving Gibbon alone in the interview room to sweat it out some, Storm and Leo go to get a coffee in the break room.

“He’s right,” says Storm. “I don’t think he’s going to crack under interview pressure. We’ve got no hard evidence. We’re going to have to let him go.”

“I don’t like it,” says Leo. “He’s one arrogant bastard. There’s something not right with him. And he’s got no alibi. If we let him go, we should put a tail on him. He’s angry. I wouldn’t put it past him to go to the hospital to shut India up.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” says Storm. “Rachel was the one he fancied. She was the one who was leading him on. Why would he kill the girl he wanted and abduct the one he didn’t want? He showed no interest in India at all.”

“Maybe he messed up,” says Leo. “Maybe he got it into his head that he wanted to abduct Rachel. Things went wrong and he killed her by accident, so he decided India would do instead.”

Storm shakes his head. “He’s a bully, but he’s a coward. He liked Rachel because she was the sweet one. The one he thought he could manipulate and control. But India was a werewolf. He didn’t want India. He wanted the girl that he could make into his victim. He wanted the girl who would kneel, the soft one who would feed his ego. Not the one who would challenge him. And he likes to operate in secret.”

Storm downs the rest of his coffee. “Rachel’s killer attacked the girls in the street where anyone could have seen it. He didn’t care that both girls were together. He was brutal and efficient. Totally different MO to Kurt Gibbon. I don’t think it was him.”

Leo nods reluctantly. “It looks like Rachel wasn’t quite the sweet Miss Innocent that everyone thought she was. Which means there might be other people with a motive to hurt her. We should let Diana have a crack at Gibbon before we let him go. I wouldn’t put it past her to pick up something he’s not telling us.”

Storm nods. He dials Diana with one hand as he rinses out his mug with the other. Diana does not answer. The call goes straight to voicemail. He wonders if she is sleeping. She has been looking tired these past couple of days. He leaves her a message asking her to call him back and hangs up. He’ll offer to send her a car if she feels up to coming in. He smiles. No way is Diana going to let a little tiredness get in her way.

“Do you think this thing about so

me woman attacking Gibbon is related or a coincidence?” asks Leo.

Monroe sticks his head into the break room. He sees Storm and Leo and his expression brightens. Clearly he had been looking for them.

“DI Zael’s guy finally got the footage we were after,” he says. “It’s the video from outside where Rachel Garrett was killed. They refused to send it earlier, said they were reviewing it, but I doubt they got a lead off it. You’ll want to see it.”

Storm and Leo follow him back to his desk. He presses play on his computer. The footage from a night vision camera plays, its image black and white. It shows Rachel and India arguing near the parking bay gate. A car pulls in, its headlights on, making the girls instinctively stagger back a few steps towards the gate. The license plate is not visible in the glare of headlights. The car waits but the girls are too busy shouting at each other to get out of its way. India is waving her arms about, clearly angry about something.

The car’s door opens. A figure emerges and walks towards the girls, as if to break up their fight. The figure jabs something at India’s neck. She looks backwards, startled. Then her knees buckle and she collapses on the ground. Rachel runs to India. She reaches for her. She leans down. The figure stabs her in the back. The arc of the knife is brutal. It flashes again and again, relentlessly. Rachel falls on top of India, trying to protect her. The figure drags Rachel by the hair off of India and unleashes a flurry of frenzied stabbing until Rachel stops moving. It is over in less than a minute.

The figure drags Rachel by the hair towards the gate, pushes it open and carries her into the car park. Then returns quickly to lift India’s limp body into the back seat of the waiting car. The car drives off. All the while the glare of its headlamps in the dark and the figure’s hooded jacket hide any identifying features completely from the camera. The bright light, the stark black and white image, the silence, all lend the scene the feel of a horror movie. It is impossible to see who the killer is. One thing is clear. The figure is slim and athletic, not bulky and awkward.

“No way is that Kurt Gibbon,” says Leo.

“Could the killer and Kurt Gibbon be in it together?” asks Monroe hopefully.

“It’s conjecture,” says storm. “We have no reason to believe the killer had an accomplice.”

“That figure could have been a woman,” says Monroe. “In that bulky jacket and with the glare it isn’t possible to rule it out. Gibbon said he was attacked by a woman, didn’t he?”

“Nothing Gibbon gave us confirms whether the woman he claims assaulted him is related to this case in any way,” says Storm. “But Gibbon is still our strongest suspect at this point. We’ll sweat him until Diana gets here. After that we’ll have to cut him loose, but we’ll keep a tail on him”

Storm’s phone rings. Thinking it might be Diana calling him back, he pulls it out of his pocket. The caller ID shows it is DI Zael.

Intending to give Zael an earful for delaying getting the footage to Monroe, Storm answers it. “Storm speaking.”

“She’s gone!” DI Zael yells into the phone. “India Lawrenson has escaped from the hospital. She’s poisoned my officer, and she’s run off. I told you she was guilty!”

Chapter 21

ALYS

The moment I take Rachel’s phone out of my bag, India’s eyes glue to it. It is like I have taken Rachel out of my bag. The case is a sleek ribbed gold. Classy. Distinctly Rachel. No wonder India looks horrified.

Before I hand it over, I tell India exactly what to say. It had taken some persuading and cajoling and near downright threatening to get her to agree to make this phone call. She is crying. Too right she should be. She’s the reason that Rachel is dead and she knows it.

“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “You’re with me now. And I won’t let him get you.”

The emotion of getting her memories back must have addled her mind because she had nodded along, and agreed to do it. Believing that I would protect her.

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