Page 48 of Final Betrayal

‘Take it any way you like,’ he snarled. ‘I’d say you’d like it up the arse!’

‘That’s abusive language.’

‘What are you going to do about it?’

Ignoring his anger, Lottie said, ‘Where were you on Saturday night from eleven p.m. onwards?’ She kept her tone even, her voice clear and strong. No way was this bald shithead going to get under her skin.

‘At home.’

‘And all day Sunday?’

‘At home.’

‘Can anyone verify that?’

‘None of your business.’

‘It is my business.’

He let out a strangled sigh. ‘My mother is there all the time. She’s disabled. Chronic arthritis, if you want to know.’

‘She can vouch that you were at home all weekend?’

‘Yes.’

‘You never went out anywhere?’

‘I went to the shop for milk and bread.’

‘What shop?’

‘Tesco.’

‘I’m sure their security cameras will confirm that, if you provide me with the times.’

‘I don’t know what time it was. I’m not Superman with a super-brain.’

‘No, you’re most definitely not.’

‘Are you being smart with me?’

‘No. But you’re being smart with me. So give me the truth.’

‘I’m saying nothing until I get a solicitor.’

Lottie wasn’t giving up so easily. She rolled up the sleeves of her T-shirt and extracted a laminated sheet from the buff folder in front of her.

‘What’s that?’ Dowling said.

‘Read it,’ she said. ‘You can read, can’t you?’

He turned the sheet around and scanned it. ‘So? What’s it got to do with me?’

‘We found it in Amy Whyte’s bedroom. Did you write this note and send it to Amy?’

‘You didn’t ask if I can write.’

‘Come on, Conor. Playtime is over. This is serious,’ Lottie said, trying hard to keep it professional.

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