Page 72 of No Safe Place
‘I’ve been asked to explain that nothing you say will be admissible in evidence. They can’t do a proper interview until you’ve been signed off by the unit.’
Callum didn’t know whether to feel guilty, angry or relieved.
Being fucking batshit does have the odd advantage, Lily always said.
‘But they need to talk with you, to establish what happened.’
He wanted to ask Maxwell about Sam, but he was scared of the answer. If she was fine, surely they’d have told him that? He’d know by now.
Which meant maybe she wasn’t fine.
Callum stared at his feet in the unfamiliar, cheap plimsoles. ‘Who’s here, then? It’s not that bloke in the suit, is it?’
His anxiety spiked at the memory of the hands on him, pressing him into the car bonnet, the ground.
‘It’s two women,’ Maxwell said. ‘And if you’re not comfortable, you can stop at any time. The interview will be here, on the ward.’
‘Okay. Will the room have a number on it?’
‘No.’ The doctor didn’t blink. ‘Your friend Lily suggested the dining room.’
Lily.Always one step ahead, taking care of him so he didn’t have to take care of himself. His cheeks flushed, as he remembered her putting him to bed.
‘She’s here, and she’ll be able to sit in on the interview with you.’
‘Okay,’ Callum breathed. ‘Great.’ He picked up the cup on the bedside table. His mouth was dry as dust. Swallowing the water was difficult. ‘Let’s do this.’
Maxwell got up from his plastic chair. ‘I do mean it – ifyou need to, just stop the interview. And if there’s anything I can do while you’re here, please ask.’
‘Okay.’ If Callum could cry any more, he would have welled up at the kindness.
Instead, he walked out of the room, wincing in the doorway, and followed Maxwell down the hall.
Lily was already sitting at one of the dining tables. She looked pale, dark circles under her eyes. He knew it wasn’t his place anymore, but he still worried about her.
As they waited for the police, Callum’s lawyer repeatedly told him everything was going to be fine. Lily agreed thateverythingwas going to befine.
It was a good job he was deliberatelynotcounting how many times it was all going to be fine, because he’d be struggling to keep up by now.
The room smelled faintly of minced beef and onions. The view from the windows, of the grounds and the footpaths and King’s in the distance – was reassuringly familiar, even from the second floor, instead of the fifth.
Maxwell returned with two women – the police. One was the kind middle-aged detective from that morning. She had the authority of a headmistress or a traffic warden.
She re-introduced herself, sticking her hand out for him to shake. ‘Mr Mulligan, I’m DCI Field. We met yesterday.’ She gestured behind her. ‘This is DS Wilson.’
He nodded at them, and they sat down opposite him.
DS Wilson took out an A4 pad and a pen, then waited, eyes on Field.
‘Great,’ Field said, briskly. ‘So, Mr Mulligan—’
‘Callum is fine.’
‘So, Callum. I’m going to ask you eight questions.’
Callum nodded, sensing Lily’s interference there too.
‘There’ll be no more than eight, although if I don’t feelwe’ve got to the bottom of something I might ask you to expand on your answer.’
