‘Get in, Molly. I’ll explain as we drive.’
I climb into the back seat of the car next to Martinez. His partner is in the driving seat.
‘How are you holding up?’
‘I’m OK. What’s going on?’
‘We’re working hard on your sister’s case, even though the Crimestoppers thing didn’t happen. I’m sorry about that. There are a lot of moving parts to this.’
‘Why did you pick me up?’
The partner takes a call as he drives and Martinez says, ‘It’s for your own protection. You can leave any time you want to. There’ve been developments.’
‘What developments?’
He rubs his hand over the stubble on his jaw and says, ‘Scott Sbarra, your late sister’s boyfriend – he’s been found dead in a hotel room.’
I cover my mouth with my hands. ‘No!’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Already? Something’s gone wrong. He shouldn’t have been found yet.
The partner watches me in the rear-view mirror.
‘What happened? Did he kill himself? Oh, God. He did, didn’t he? Scott killed himself.’
‘We don’t know all the details just yet, Molly,’ says Martinez. ‘The crime scene is still being investigated. I can’t tell you much, but I can tell you we’re working on the basis that this was a homicide. And, as he and your sister were in a relationship, we’re also assuming that these crimes are likely connected.’
‘You mean . . .’
‘There’s a risk someone is here in the city with some kind of vendetta against Katie and Scott, and we don’t know if that’s the end of it or if they have anyone else in mind. We need to make sure you’re safe. That’s why we’re here, especially as you look the same, you and Katie.’
‘Do I need to get out of the city? Am I not safe in New York?’
‘We’ll make sure you’re safe,’ says Martinez. ‘That’s our job.’
‘Scott’s really dead?’ I say.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Was he a suspect? You think he might have . . . to KT?’
Martinez clears his throat. ‘Scott Sbarra was with someone else at the approximate time of your sister’s death. His alibi wasn’t rock-solid, but it was something.’
‘OK.’
Violet Roseberry. He was with Violet. Vi.
We don’t drive to the precinct, we drive to some other government building.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘A safe place, Molly. Police property.’
Suddenly I’m afraid. What is going on here? Am I being na?ve? The building has no police shield and it has no uniformed officer standing guard outside. There are no marked cars parked on the street. No sign that this is an official police building.
The car stops and shakes on its axle.
‘Let’s go,’ says the partner.
We walk in through a door with a key-code lock, and through a corridor, up a flight of stairs and into an open-floor room. People are making calls, having meetings, drinking coffee, reading files.
‘In here,’ says Martinez.
We go into a small room with a table and a bin in the corner. There’s a mirror on the wall and a camera mounted up near the ceiling.
‘You want a water? Something hot?’
‘Water, please.’
His partner leaves the room.
‘Molly, where were you last night between eight and nine p.m.?’
‘Where was I?’
He nods.
‘I was at the cinema. Why?’
‘Who were you with?’
‘I was on my own.’
‘On your own? You saw a movie all on your own?’
‘Yeah, I always do.’
The partner walks back in and places a plastic cup of water down in front of me.
‘Molly was at the movies last night. All on her own.’
‘Really?’ says the partner. ‘All on your own, eh?’
‘I saw The Shining at the Broadway Luxe in Midtown. It’s close to my hostel. I didn’t know what else to do, I don’t really know anyone here.’
Martinez sniffs. ‘That’s OK, you’re not under arrest or anything, relax, Molly. We’re not interrogating you here. We just want to make sure you’re safe is all.’
‘Do you think I’m not safe here?’
The partner shrugs and looks at Martinez. Martinez says, ‘I think you’re safe but we want to make sure. You notice anyone following you, anyone photographing you, anything of that nature?’