‘Were you and Sophia in a relationship?’ asked Erika.
‘No. It was just something silly that happened a few times, and then, one evening Sophia came to collect a parcel, and there was a guy with her who worked at the hospital… Maria was at work. I invited them in for a drink. I knew what was going to happen. The three of us ended up in bed together.’
‘What’s his name, this guy from the hospital?’
Vicky put down her tea and rubbed her eyes.
‘Dexter. I don’t know his second name… That’s how I made the leap to offering her my bed. Actually, it only happened twice. And she was very respectful, changed the sheets afterwards. She left me gifts of wine and nice chocolate. She was a good friend.’ Vicky let out a long exhale and put the cup down on the table. Her hands were shaking.
‘When was the last time Sophia used your bed?’
‘Couple of weeks ago. She had a copy of my door key. The first time she gave it back to me, but this last time, afterwards, I didn’t hassle her to have it back. I trusted her.’
‘Did you know she was going to use your bed on Monday?’
‘No.’
Erika knew she should tell Vicky that Sophia was due to meet Shawn on Monday afternoon, but she didn’t want to distract her from the bigger picture.
‘Let’s go back. You arrived home on Monday, just before four. You opened the door and saw something was wrong. Sophia was rolled up in your sofa bed, lying dead. I can understand that you were very scared, but what made you run away?’
Vicky shook her head and wiped tears forming under her eyes.
Erika went on, ‘Why run? Sophia had a key to your place, and you have an alibi. You were out all afternoon. You would have been recorded on hundreds of CCTV cameras in Central London, and we can confirm this. You have scores of true crime books in your flat. You do extensive research for your podcast. Statistically, you must know that only a tiny, tiny percentage of women commit violent crimes. You wouldn’t be our first suspect. I don’t think you being scared is enough of an explanation for why you ran away.’
Erika sat back and realised she’d changed gear quickly. Was she pushing too hard?
Vicky opened her mouth and closed it again.
‘Have you ever found a friend brutally murdered in your bed?’ she said, looking up at Erika and Moss with a hardness in her eyes. They both said they hadn’t.
‘Then you have no concept of what I was feeling, how I am feeling and how terrified I was!’
She sat back and crossed her arms with a sense of finality. Erika could see Vicky was shutting down and becoming angry, so she decided to take a risk and lean into this.
‘Do you know who killed Sophia?’ she asked.
‘No! No, I don’t. I really don’t.’
‘Are you aware that your sister found Sophia’s body, and she wrongly identified her as you?’ said Moss.
‘What?’ said Vicky, her head snapping up to stare at them.
‘Tess thought she’d found your body, panicked, and for the first twenty-four hours we incorrectly identified Sophia’s body as you.’
Vicky continued to stare at them with her mouth open, and then shook her head.
‘I don’t know what else to say,’ she said.
‘Do you want to ask us any questions?’
‘No.’
Erika was disturbed by her lack of curiosity. Something was seriously off. She had a real interest in crime with her podcast, but she wasn’t asking anything about the crime scene, or if they had any suspects. She’d been so scared of being blamed for killing Sophia. And then she was adamant she didn’t know who killed her. It didn’t make sense.
‘Do you know any of the men who Sophia brought to your flat?’ asked Erika.
‘I know of Dexter.’
‘What about Shawn?’ asked Moss.
‘What about him?’
‘He told us that the three of you have sex together.’
Vicky looked coldly at her.
‘You know, I don’t have to be here. I can leave at any time.’
Erika could see that despite her bluster, her hands were still shaking.
‘Is it possible that Sophia knew you were out and brought a man over without asking permission?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘What did your neighbours think about this? You live in quite a small block of flats, and everyone must see people coming and going.’
‘I don’t care what they think.’
‘And what about Charles Wakefield, your next door neighbour? You just saw him, and you didn’t ask us why he was here?’