Erika took them both from him and saw the timestamp on the receipt.
‘He paid cash,’ she said. ‘But we can request the station CCTV. Did he tell you what time train he took back here?’
‘Yes. He said he took the 5pm train back from London Bridge. It takes around twelve minutes, add on a few minutes’ walk back from the station and it has him back here at Honeycomb Court by 5:20pm,’ said Peterson.
‘Has Isaac made that time of death official?’ asked Moss.
‘Not yet,’ said Erika. ‘We just have his estimate that Vicky Clarke was killed between 3pm and 7pm.’
‘He could have done it, he had half an hour,’ said Moss.
‘You saw his flat, where would he have cleaned up afterwards? And disposed of the murder weapon? Bloody clothes? It’s very tight.’
‘What about Vicky’s bathroom? The killer could have cleaned up there,’ said Moss.
‘Yes. Again, we’re waiting on the DNA evidence from the crime scene,’ said Erika. They sat in silence for a moment.
‘I want to talk to those sisters, the Bulgarians, who live opposite. We still don’t know if they were in on Monday,’ said Erika. ‘But first I want to pay Vicky’s boyfriend a visit.’
14
Erika studied the buttons on the doorbell. There were six ‘units’ in the building where Shawn Macavity lived. Three of them looked to be businesses: ‘BUZZY BEE CREATIVE’ was below ‘TIPPY TAPPY TOES LTD’ and ‘YOGA PET’。 The name ‘SHAWN M’ was scribbled in biro on a little piece of paper above ‘MR AEGEDFIST’ and ‘PERRY GORDON’。
Moss leant over to ring the bell just as the door opened and a young woman with long curly dark hair and a trench coat came hurrying out clutching her Oyster card and her handbag over her shoulder. She didn’t give them a second look as she ran up towards the passage with her high heels clacking.
‘Late for the train, that’s London life for you,’ said Peterson, turning, along with Moss, to watch the woman as she ran. Erika was pleased they didn’t have to ring the bell. The element of surprise worked quite well.
At the end of the corridor a set of stairs led up to three closed doors. Shawn’s flat was at the end. The whole building seemed to be badly constructed, with thin rattling walls, and their feet echoed as they walked.
Erika knocked on the door and a moment passed. She knocked again, and finally a skinny young man opened the door. He was only wearing a pair of baggy wine-coloured briefs, and he had a shock of long dark hair down to his shoulders. His eyes had a haunted look.
‘Hello?’ he said. They could see past him into a modern bedsit with a tiny kitchen and an open sofa bed.
‘Shawn Macavity?’ asked Erika.
‘Yes,’ he said, narrowing his eyes in confusion. He had a warm northern accent.
‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Erika Foster, and this is Detective Inspector Moss and Detective Inspector Peterson,’ said Erika as they all flashed their warrant cards. ‘We need to talk to you about your girlfriend.’
‘Who?’ he said. He folded his arms. The wind from the draughty corridor gave him goose pimples on his pale flesh.
‘Vicky Clarke,’ said Peterson.
‘Vicky?’ he said. ‘We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. Not for a while. We’re more like friends now…’ He was tapping his bare foot on the floor, Erika noted, and seemed jittery. ‘What’s Vicky done?’
‘Could we come inside?’
He hesitated, and moved to let them in, and closed the door behind them.
‘What makes you think she’s done something?’ asked Peterson.
‘You guys look the business, plain clothes. I just assumed…’
‘I’m very sorry to tell you that Vicky was found dead last night,’ said Erika. She watched closely as his face seemed to sag.
‘Vicky?’ he said.
‘Yes.’
‘Vicky’s dead?’ he repeated, incredulously.
‘I’m afraid so.’
He sank down onto the sofa bed, with a melodramatic thud of the mattress springs, and put his head in his hands.
‘I don’t understand. Where?’ he said, looking up at Erika.
‘Her sister found her body at her flat in Honeycomb Court.’
‘Vicky?’ he said again. He was silent for a moment, and then he seemed to recover himself. ‘Was there a break-in at her flat? I told her to be careful about locking her door. That area has really gone downhill.’