‘I know,’ she said, a new kind of terror making its home in her head. But there was something else there too, keeping it back. A plan. They just needed a plan.
‘Can’t we go to the police and explain th—’ Ravi drew off, chewing his lip, another glance at those disembodied feet. He was silent for a moment, and another, eyes flickering, his mind busy behind them. ‘We can’t go to the police. They got it wrong with Sal, didn’t they? And Jamie Reynolds. And do I trust a jury of twelve peers with your life? Like the jury that decided Max Hastings was innocent? No, no way. Not you, you’re too important.’
Pip wished she could take his hand, feel his warmth on her skin as their fingers intertwined in the way that they did. Team Ravi and Pip. Home. They looked into each other’s eyes, a silent conversation in their shifting glances. Ravi finally blinked.
‘So, what do we…？ How would we get away with this?’ he said, the question almost ridiculous enough for a smile. How to get away with murder. ‘Just, theoretically. Do we… I don’t know, bury him somewhere so no one ever finds him?’
Pip shook her head. ‘No. They always find them, eventually. Like Andie.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve studied a lot of murder cases, as have you, listened to hundreds of true crime podcasts. There’s only one way to get away with it.’
‘Which is?’
‘To not leave any evidence and to not be here at the time of death. To have an iron-clad alibi somewhere far away during the time-of-death window.’
‘But, you were here.’ Ravi stared at her. ‘What time did it…？ What time did you…？’
Pip checked the time on Jason’s burner phone. ‘I think it was around six thirty that it happened. So, coming up to an hour ago now.’
‘Whose phone is that?’ Ravi nodded to it. ‘You didn’t call me from his phone, did you?’
‘No, no, it’s a burner phone. Not mine, it’s his, Jason’s, but it…’ Her voice escaped from her as she saw the question forming in Ravi’s eyes. And Pip knew, she’d finally have to tell him. They had bigger secrets now, no room for this any more. ‘I have a burner phone I never told you about. At home.’
There was movement in Ravi’s lips, almost close to a smile. ‘I always said you’d end up with your own burner phone,’ he said. ‘Wh-why do you have one?’
‘I have six, actually,’ Pip sighed, and somehow this felt harder to say than telling him that she’d killed a man. ‘It’s, um … I haven’t been coping well, with what happened to Stanley. I said I was fine, but I wasn’t fine. I’m sorry. I, um, I’ve been buying Xanax from Luke Eaton, after the doctor wouldn’t prescribe me any more. I just wanted to be able to sleep. I’m sorry.’ She dropped his gaze, staring down at her trainers. There were flecks of blood on those as well.
Ravi looked hurt, taken aback. ‘I’m sorry too,’ he said quietly. ‘I knew you weren’t fine, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I thought you just needed time, change of scenery.’ He sighed. ‘You should have told me, Pip. I don’t care what it is, whatever it is.’ He glanced quickly over at Jason’s body. ‘But no secrets between us, OK? We’re a team. We’re a team, you and me, and we will fix this. Together. I promise we’re going to get through this.’
Pip wanted to fall into him, let him wrap her up in his arms and disappear down into them. But she couldn’t. Her body, her clothes, were a crime scene, and she couldn’t contaminate him. It was like he knew, somehow, had read it in her eyes. He stepped forward and reached out, carefully stroking one finger under her chin, in a place without blood, and it was just the same.
‘So, if he died at 6:30 p.m.,’ Ravi said, locking back on to her eyes. ‘How do we give you an iron-clad alibi for 6:30 p.m., when you were here?’
‘We can’t, not that way,’ she said, looking inside, into that growing idea in her head. It should be impossible, but maybe… maybe it wasn’t. ‘But I was thinking, when I was waiting for you, I was thinking about it. Time of death is an estimate, and the medical examiner uses three main factors in that estimation. Rigor mortis – that’s how the muscles stiffen after death; livor mortis – that’s when the blood pools inside the body; and body temperature. Those are the three factors they use to narrow down the time of death. And so, I was thinking, if we can manipulate those three factors, if we can delay them, we can make the medical examiner think he died hours after he did. And in that time window, you and I can have solid alibis, separately, with people and cameras and an undeniable evidence trail.’