Eeny Meeny

7

‘Tell me how you got out of the pool, Amy?’

‘A ladder.’

‘I didn’t see a ladder there.’

Amy scowled and turned away. Pulling the hospital blankets up round her chin, she receded into herself once more. Helen regarded her, intrigued. If she was lying, she was a bloody good actress. She shot a look at Mark, then continued:

‘What sort of ladder was it?’

‘A rope ladder. It was dropped down just after I…’

Tears stung Amy’s eyes and she dropped her head to her chest. There were mild burns on the palms of Amy’s hands. Consistent perhaps with someone scrambling up a rope ladder? Helen gave herself a mental slap – why was she even considering the possibility? Amy’s story was insane. According to her, they’d been picked up on the motorway, drugged, abducted, starved – and then forced to commit murder. Why would anyone do such a thing? On the face of it, Amy and Sam were two good kids, but the answer to this awful crime must lie within their own lives.

‘Tell me about your relationship with Sam.’

At this Amy started to sob.

‘Perhaps now would be a good time to break, Detective Inspector?’ Amy’s mother had insisted on a solicitor being present.

‘We’re not finished yet,’ Helen snapped back.

‘But you can see she’s exhausted. Surely we ca-’

‘All I see is a dead boy called Sam Fisher. Who’s been shot in the back. At close range. By your client.’

‘My client doesn’t deny pulling the tr-’

‘But she won’t tell us why.’

‘I’ve told you why,’ Amy spat out in retaliation.

‘Yes and it’s a great story, Amy. But it doesn’t make any sense.’

Helen let her words hang in the air. Without having to be told, Mark took his cue to ratchet up the pressure.

‘Nobody saw you. Or the van, Amy. The truckers didn’t. The traffic cops didn’t. The other kids hitching that route didn’t. So why don’t you cut the crap and tell us why you killed your boyfriend? Did he hit you? Did he threaten you? Why did he take you to that awful place?’

Amy said nothing, refusing even to look up. It was as if Mark hadn’t spoken at all. Helen took up the baton, softening her tone.

‘Don’t think you’re the first, Amy. To fall for a nice guy who turned out to be sadistic and violent. It’s not your fault, no one’s judging you and if you can tell me what happened, what went wrong, then I promise I can help you. Did he assault you? Were others involved? Why did he take you there?’

Still nothing. For the first time, impatience seeped into Helen’s voice.

‘Two hours ago, I had to tell Sam’s mum that he’d been shot and killed. What she needs, what his little brothers and sisters need, is someone to be held to account for this. And right now you’re the only person in the frame. So for your own sake as well as theirs, stop bullshitting and tell me the truth. Why did you do it, Amy? Why?’

There was a long silence, then Amy looked up, angry eyes flaring through the tears:

‘She made me do it.’