Page 66 of The Guilty Girl

She wasn’t sure if he was making fun of her, but she pressed on. ‘Richie, you were in a position to view what was going on. You could be a crucial witness.’ Dickhead, she added in her head.

‘Witness? Right. Okay.’ He picked at a non-existent spot on his jeans, his hands shaking. ‘I got there about eight, to set up, you know, before the crowd arrived. Lucy let me in.’

‘Was she alone?’

‘There were a few girls with her.’

‘What was the mood like?’

‘Typical schoolgirls. Giggling and messing. Make-up and glitter everywhere. Nothing out of the ordinary, though what would I know about that? It’s been a few years since I was a teenager.’ He tried to laugh, but it came out like a groan.

Lottie knew he was thirty years old from his driving licence data. ‘Go on.’

‘Lucy showed me where she wanted the decks set up, then she went upstairs. I didn’t see her again until the bell started leaping off the front door.’

‘Anyone on the door?’

‘No. Oh, wait. There was a guy there.’

‘Know him?’

‘Erm, don’t think so, but I didn’t see much of him.’

‘You sure?’

‘I was inside and he was outside. So yes, I’m sure.’

‘How many were present during the course of the night? An estimate will do.’

‘I don’t know. Kids were coming and going. Might have been thirty-five or so by the end of the night. Most were out in the garden. The patio doors were open so the music filtered out there.’

‘Was there much drinking going on?’

‘Ah come on, what do you think? They were teenagers at a party with free booze.’

‘Drugs too, I suppose?’ She maintained what she hoped was a neutral expression.

He hesitated. ‘Probably. Not that I saw anything like that.’

‘I believe you were set up beside the bar area. The lad doling out the drink was selling something more potent than Smarties. Tell me about that.’

He tugged at his beaded necklace. ‘I don’t want to get the kid in trouble.’

‘Richie, we know all about it. I’d like you to confirm what he was up to.’ She thought his beads were about to snap, he was twisting them so hard.

‘Yeah, all right. He was selling pills. Not my house. Not my party. I just wanted to do my job, get paid and get home to my pregnant wife.’

‘And is that where you went once you’d finished up?’

‘What?’

‘Did you go home after the party?’

‘Of course I did. Where else would I be going?’ He released the beads and ran a finger along the neck of his T-shirt, his face bright red.

Liar, Lottie thought. He wasn’t going to admit to anything at this juncture, though, so she parked it with the intention of returning to it later.

‘Did anything out of the ordinary happen at the party? Besides youngsters having a good time on booze and drugs.’

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