When Laura walked into interview room two, her first impression of Daisy Stiles was that the woman had lost weight since she’d last spoken to her.
She had dark circles under her eyes, which were red-rimmed as if from lack of sleep, and her hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed in a few days.
The solicitor beside her glanced up from her legal pad while Laura started the recording machine and recited the formal caution.
Daisy’s hands shook as she stopped twiddling a strand of hair and clasped her fingers together on the table, her gaze roaming the swathe of documentation that Laura slipped from a manila folder.
‘Right, Daisy,’ she said, pulling out a series of photographs. ‘These two people, Felicity Gregor and Gary Lovell, died from ketamine doses last week. Not pretty, is it?’
The woman recoiled at the sight of the crime scene photographs, at the broken and twisted body of Felicity and the vomit-stained bedclothes crumpled underneath Gary.
‘This is Chantelle Evans,’ said Laura, struggling to keep her voice steady as she turned over a photograph of a smiling sixteen-year-old. ‘She died after overdosing on the same ketamine concoction as the others after someone sold it to her at a nightclub here in town last Friday night. There are other people still in hospital after ingesting the same ketamine, one of whom is going to need a colostomy bag for the rest of his life by the time they’ve finished putting him back together.’
Daisy looked as if she was going to be sick.
‘That’s got nothing to do with me,’ she managed.
‘Oh, but we think it does.’ Laura swept the photographs to one side and watched as the woman squirmed in her seat. ‘How long have you known Xander Beech?’
‘Since school.’
‘Have you kept in touch on a regular basis?’
Daisy shrugged. ‘Not really. We get together occasionally, I suppose.’
‘Where?’
‘At that nightclub he’s started DJ’ing at. Sometimes I’ll see him in town and we’ll go for a drink.’
‘How lovely.’ Laura extracted a blown-up image from the collection of CCTV recordings the team had been sifting through. ‘And when your mum’s cat got sick last week, he was the first person you thought to call to take you to the vet, was it? I mean, this is you getting into his car outside Turner’s Veterinary Practice, right?’
Daisy leaned forward, chewing her lip as she stared at the photograph. ‘Yes.’
‘You have a driving licence, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘So why did you ask Xander to take you there?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Pardon?’ Laura tapped the image. ‘You just confirmed this is you. So, why did you ask Xander to drive?’
‘I didn’t.’ Daisy looked at the solicitor, then back to Laura. ‘He asked me.’
Laura reached into the folder again, pulled out a two-page stapled document and skim-read the contents before turning it around. ‘Can you confirm this is the formal statement you signed based on the conversation you and I had last week? Is this your signature?’
‘Yes.’
‘Daisy, in this statement you told us that your mum’s cat was sick, and that you took her to the vet. Not her usual vet, but this one in particular. And then when you got there, after filling in all the forms and being offered a last-minute appointment, you decided to up and leave before your appointment was called.’ Laura paused. ‘Is there anything you’d like to change in this statement now?’
The younger woman shook her head and lowered her gaze to the table. ‘No.’
Snatching the statement away, Laura sighed. ‘Daisy, I went over to the vet practice this afternoon before you were brought in. I sat where you sat in that reception area. When the door opened to Adam Turner’s consulting room, the inner door through to his office was open. I could see the multi-lock cabinet where they keep all the controlled drugs. That’s why you went there, wasn’t it? To recce the building. To find out where they keep the ketamine hydrochloride so you could tell Xander Beech.’
A single tear spilled down Daisy’s cheek, and she wiped it away, sniffing.
‘Why did you help him?’ Laura persisted. ‘Did he promise you a cut from the sales?’
Daisy shook her head, and sniffed again.
‘Enough.’ Laura slammed her hand on the table in frustration and the two women opposite her both jumped. ‘Daisy, there are three people dead from the drugs that Xander stole from this vet practice. You assisted in that theft, and you will be charged accordingly. Start talking.’
The solicitor glared at her, then placed a hand on Daisy’s arm and murmured in her ear.
Daisy wiped at the tears now streaming freely down her face and then raised her eyes to Laura.
‘He blackmailed me.’
‘How?’
‘He said if I didn’t help him, he’d tell my mum and dad that I’ve got a cocaine addiction.’
‘Do you?’
Daisy nodded. ‘Yes. I’m getting help though. I’ve been clean for three months.’
‘Did he tell you why he wanted to steal the drugs?’
‘No. I asked him, but he said it was none of my business.’ Daisy took a gulp of air, her shoulders shaking. ‘And he said if I ever told anyone, that they’d kill me.’
‘Who?’
‘He didn’t say. I haven’t been sleeping. I’ve been so scared.’
Laura closed the manila folder and pushed back her seat, her hand hovering over the recording machine.
‘Interview terminated at eleven fifty-four.’