Detective Chief Inspector Trevor Lake stood, extended his hand to Will and indicated that he should take the seat opposite him.
The desk had been cleared, along with the rest of the room, for the detective’s use.
‘Thanks for your time, Will,’ he began. ‘I can appreciate this must be very difficult for you at the moment.’
Will nodded, mumbled a thanks, and sat down, dropping his backpack onto the floor next to him.
Lake sat facing Will and turned to a clean page in a small notebook. ‘I’m just going to ask a few questions, to get a feel for what Amy’s movements were this morning.’
‘Okay.’
‘Did she say where she was going?’
Will shuffled in his seat. ‘She was really excited,’ he began, and then coughed to clear his throat, realising his voice had started to choke. ‘She’d landed an interview which could have been the career break she’d been after since we left university.’
Lake nodded. ‘Did she tell you who the interview was with?’
Will nodded. ‘Yes. Ian Rossiter.’
The detective paused to scribble some notes into the notebook.
Will remained silent, transfixed by the detective’s scrawl across the page and wondered how the words would be translated back at the police station. He noted Lake’s accent, tried to figure out where he’d come from, and settled on Wiltshire. Something about the softened consonants. He wondered idly how the detective had ended up joining the Met, and then frowned.
‘Why is there an armed guard outside the operating room?’
The detective’s head shot up. ‘Who told you that?’
Will shrugged. ‘I saw two of them walking towards the room when I was talking to Amy’s surgeon,’ he said, and then wondered why he’d so easily lied.
‘It’s just a precaution, due to the nature of her injuries and how she sustained them.’
‘You mean because she was shot when she was with Ian Rossiter.’
‘Exactly.’ Lake lowered his gaze and returned to his notebook. ‘Did Amy say where she was meeting Rossiter this morning?’
Will frowned. ‘No, she didn’t, actually. I’d assumed it was at the newspaper offices. It seems wrong that a politician would willingly walk into a newspaper office, though.’
Lake smiled. ‘Indeed it would. No, they met at the Three Birches Hotel in Marylebone. According to the staff, Amy had arranged to have a breakfast meeting with Rossiter.’
‘That would make sense. She said she was going to go into the office and type up the interview now I think of it.’
The detective nodded, wrote something on the notepad. ‘Did you or Amy have a fight this morning?’
‘What are you trying to imply?’
‘It’s okay, calm down. Standard question I have to ask.’
‘Well, we didn’t.’
‘Did Amy seem on edge lately, perhaps stressed?’
Will leaned back in the chair and sighed. ‘No more than usual. I mean, her job is really busy, and if she’s chasing a story, I’ll often find her asleep at the kitchen table where she’s been working all night to meet a deadline,’ he said, ‘but she thrives on it – especially the last couple of weeks. I’ve never seen her so excited about a story.’
‘Do you know what the angle of her story is?’
Will shook his head. ‘No, I don’t ask, because usually, she can’t tell me anyway. I only found out last night that she was going to interview Rossiter.’ He leaned forward in his chair, put his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’
‘Hang in there, Will, you’re doing well,’ said Lake. ‘Just a few more questions, and we’ll be done here.’
‘It appears that your girlfriend, Amy, and Ian Rossiter met as planned for a breakfast meeting at the Three Birches Hotel at nine o’clock. The hotel staff we’ve interviewed told us that at some point during that meeting, the conversation got a little heated – raised voices, a brief argument – before Rossiter stood to leave. Amy appears to have managed to placate him, and they finished their breakfast, although the same hotel staff also told me that it appeared a short-term truce had been struck, because the tone of the conversation afterwards was noticeably strained.’
‘Do you know what they discussed at the hotel?’
‘No. Amy’s notebook and voice recorder were taken from her at the scene of the incident by her attackers.’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘We don’t know yet. That’s one of the avenues of investigation we’re pursuing.’
Will swallowed. ‘What happened between the hotel and the place where everyone was shot?’
Lake leaned forward and folded his arms on the table. ‘I’ll only tell you this, because the press is going to have it figured out soon anyway. Around ten thirty, Amy and Rossiter left the hotel. Amy paid the breakfast bill, and then followed Rossiter to a waiting car outside the hotel. Rossiter’s bodyguard took the front passenger seat.’ He paused. ‘We’d naturally assumed that Rossiter offered to drop Amy off at her workplace – it was still raining hard.’
‘What went wrong?’
The detective shifted in his seat. ‘For some reason, the driver decided to take a short cut, rather than a direct route to her offices. As he drove along that street, a van cut in front of the car, two men with guns jumped out from the back, and attacked the occupants of the car.’
Will paled. ‘Go on.’
‘The driver was shot first – to prevent him from trying to manoeuvre the car out of the way. Then the bodyguard, then Amy.’
Will frowned. ‘Why shoot Amy?’
‘We don’t know, Will – we don’t know who we’re dealing with yet, and we’re still conducting interviews. Maybe because she was a witness.’
‘Where did they go – the people that shot her?’
‘Unfortunately, it seems they picked the location of the attack at a point they knew they’d be sheltered from CCTV coverage,’ said the detective. ‘They were professionals, but we’ve got people scouring all the cameras in the vicinity right now, as well as the local underground stations.’
‘What happens next?’ asked Will, lifting his gaze to look directly at the detective. ‘What are you doing to find the people who shot her?’
Lake sighed, tossed his pen on to the desk, and leaned back into his chair. ‘I’m sorry, Will. I can’t discuss that – it’s still an open investigation.’
Will peered at his fingernails. The one on his right thumb was bleeding. He didn’t even remember biting it down to the quick. ‘What about Rossiter? Why didn’t they kill him?’
Lake leaned back in his chair. ‘We don’t know.’ He ran a hand through thinning hair. ‘We think they heard the sirens and panicked – lucky for Rossiter, as he only sustained a flesh wound to his shoulder.’
‘Shame they didn’t panic sooner.’
The detective ignored the remark. ‘My officers are still collating witness statements. I shouldn’t even be discussing this with you,’ he said. ‘I’m just hoping you might remember something which will give us a lead, a reason why this has happened.’
Lake reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. He slid it across the desk towards Will. ‘I think I’ve got enough for now, but please, if you remember anything Amy’s told you in passing or find anything that might help us catch the people that did this to her, phone me immediately. It doesn’t matter what time of day or night.’
‘What happens if you don’t find them? I mean, after Amy recovers – what happens then? Will she always be in danger? Will they come after her?’
The detective shrugged, an apologetic expression on his face. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t answer that. Not yet. But we will make sure she’s safe while she’s here.’
Will stood up, shouldered his backpack, and slipped the detective’s card into his trouser pocket. ‘Then I guess we’re done here.’
‘Thanks again, Will,’ said Lake. He stood and opened the door. The smells and sounds of the hospital echoed along the corridor outside. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as I can tell you anything.’
‘That’s all I seem to be hearing this morning,’ said Will.