‘We’re still investigating,’ said Erika. She looked around the bedsit. It was a mess of clothes and papers. Filthy dishes were piled up in the sink, and in the corner, a guitar sat on a stand next to an electric keyboard.
‘Can we ask where you were yesterday between 3pm and 7pm?’ asked Peterson.
‘You think I did it?’ he said, his voice rising in panic.
‘We’re asking everyone who was close to Vicky the same question,’ said Erika.
‘In the evening I was at work… Just here, at the Golden Lamb,’ he said, pointing towards the window.
‘What time did you start work?’
‘Six until close, about eleven thirty, but I got there a bit earlier, maybe quarter to… It would take me about an hour to get here from Blackheath on public transport, so there’s no way I could have been there at that time,’ he said, clutching dramatically at his long straggly hair.
‘And where were you between 3pm and five forty-five?’
‘I was here all day, chilling, having a nap, until five twenty. I had a shower, ate a sandwich and I left to go to work at five forty-five. It’s only up the road.’
‘Can anyone corroborate this, that you were here all day?’ asked Peterson.
‘Well, no, but I was here.’
‘When did you last see Vicky?’ asked Erika.
‘A week or so ago. We, er, she records her podcast on a Thursday and I’ve been writing and performing the incidental music sometimes… Wait, it wasn’t last Thursday but the Thursday before. It was the eleventh I last saw her, at her flat.’
‘And how did Vicky seem?’
‘Fine. Vicky’s dead? Really?’
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t believe it. I thought Tess, her sister, would have phoned me. Does she know?’
‘Yes. She found Vicky.’
‘Yeah. Of course. Shit.’
‘Do you have a good relationship with Tess?’
‘I know her, sort of. She and Vicky don’t get on all the time.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s never approved of Vicky being an actor. I’m an actor too. We trained together. Her podcast… She was starting to do really well, with the podcast about true crime… She was trying to get sponsorship – right now she’s only making a few quid from affiliate links.’ Shawn still seemed distracted and in shock.
‘Was there anything she was mixed up in that could have put her in danger?’ asked Erika, wishing she had more information about the podcast episodes.
He seemed to zone out for a moment, and then came back.
‘No. I think she’s talked mainly to the victims of crimes. She hasn’t been talking to anyone dangerous, not that I know.’
‘Did she mention anything about anyone odd hanging around the flats?’ asked Moss.
‘It’s London. You’ve got to take the rough with the smooth when it comes to odd people.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Erika.
‘No she hadn’t mentioned anyone odd. I’m from Burnley and everyone is much nicer, friendly. It was a shock when I first came to London. There are a couple of girls who live on her floor, student nurses – they’re nice.’ He was gabbling now, unable to focus on one thing.
‘Do you mean Vicky’s neighbours across the hall? They’re student doctors,’ said Erika.
‘Yeah. I’ve only met them once or twice. The woman who owns the building is a bit of an old cow, or can be, and she’s got this weird guy pal. Charles. He’s a bit nosy.’
‘How?’
‘Every time someone arrives or leaves, he’s there, like a spy. He caused a hoo-ha when I stayed there, saying we were violating the terms of the lease. Tess sorted it out with Henrietta. I was paying rent, and Tess owns the flat. I just can’t believe Tess didn’t tell me, and she found the… she found Vicky’s body?’
‘Yes,’ said Erika.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he said, melodramatically. ‘Can’t believe she’s dead.’
‘What do you think?’ asked Erika when she and Moss came back to the car parked on Forest Hill high street.
‘He seems highly strung,’ said Moss.
‘We did just tell him about Vicky.’
‘I know, but does it strike you as weird how many times he asked us to confirm it? He kept saying “Vicky? Really?” Over and over.’
‘Yes, but there isn’t a textbook reaction.’
‘Come on. We’ve been doing this a long time. Something was off, wasn’t it?’