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‘So why the initial lie to your roommate?’ DI Wilson’s narrow-set eyes studied me for tells; a bead of sweat on the brow, an averted gaze. I tried not to betray any.
‘I was embarrassed. She already thinks I spend too much time at the library and not enough time enjoying myself. She doesn’t understand that those two things are one and the same.’ A tiny attempt to soften myself.
‘Ms Fitzwilliam alleged that you were unaware of what time you returned to the room. Is that true?’
As I nodded, I realised just how heavy my head felt. I was bone-tired, and faintly dizzy. ‘I fell and hit my head on the way home, hence all the blood. I think I had some kind of concussion, because getting back to my own bed is a little blurry.’
I decided to stick with the fell-and-hit-my-face story, because what other narrative did I have? Besides, judging by the ache in my skull, a DNA test of the blood on my shirt would soon return a result in my favour. I was sure of it. Whose else could it be, when I’d been in the library all that time? I must have fallen face down when I blacked out after the ritual. I should’ve gone to the philosophy section this morning, I realised. Any large maroon patches there would confirm this theory.
But I’d already said I fell on the way home. The spiderweb of lies was snaring me already.
DI Blenkinsopp spoke for the first time in a while. ‘How long after leaving the library would you say you fell and hit your face?’
I frowned. ‘I’m not sure. Why?’
‘Well, the library is very close to the North Tower, and I wondered if you might have seen anyone coming or going as you were leaving.’
I sensed a trap on the horizon, like a looming attack on a chessboard. I didn’t seem to be in immediate danger with this line of questioning, but if I specified where I fell and hit my face, they’d likely be able to check that area for signs of blood to corroborate my story. But if I claimed not to remember, that would look suspicious in itself. I settled for somewhere in between.
‘No, I didn’t see anyone when I was leaving, but then again I wasn’t really looking. I think I fell around halfway back to Willowood.’ Hopefully this was vague enough that they’d struggle to confirm it, but specific enough to avoid casting unnecessary aspersions over myself.
‘Around halfway? Where exactly, if you had to narrow it down?’
My lungs tightened. ‘There’s a tree with a crook in its branch that looks like an elbow. Around there, I think, but like I say it’s a little hazy.’
‘All right. And you’re absolutely sure you didn’t know the victim?’ DI Wilson took a photograph out of her shirt pocket. I was amazed they had one to hand already. ‘This is Ms Kerr.’
At the sight of the face staring back at me, it took everything I had not to gasp.
It was the pretty ginger girl I’d seen talking to Hafsah Al-Hadi.
She’d been in the library with me.
Throat arid, I managed to say, ‘No. No, I didn’t know her.’
