If the chairs in the interview room weren’t fixed to the floor, Ffion is sure Leo would move his further away. She feels the tension coming off him in waves, as she further arrests Yasmin on suspicion of murder.
‘This is ridiculous.’ Yasmin looks at Ffion and Leo in turn. ‘I didn’t kill my husband.’
‘How long have you been in a relationship with Jonty Charlton?’ Leo says.
There’s a long pause, before Yasmin answers. ‘Six months. It started in the summer, when The Shore opened. It was only ever meant to be a bit of fun, although Jonty, of course, fell in love with me.’ A tiny smile at the corners of her mouth suggests she sees such an occurrence as inevitable.
‘That’s a classy way to celebrate your husband’s success,’ Ffion says neutrally.
The solicitor coughs. ‘Are you here to interview my client, or to debate her morality?’
Ffion ignores the interruption. ‘Who knew you were having an affair?’
‘No one. We were very careful.’
‘Not even Rhys?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘How can you be so certain?’ Leo says.
‘Because if he’d found out, he’d have—’ Yasmin breaks off. An ugly flush moves from her neck to her face like a rising tide.
Leo breaks into the silence. ‘Blythe Charlton says you and Rhys were arguing, before the party on New Year’s Eve.’
‘I was pissed off with him, that’s all. He’d been drinking all day. I found him on his knees in the middle of the road at one point – he was totally out of it.’ Yasmin shakes her head. ‘So embarrassing.’
‘Interesting,’ Leo says, and Ffion’s pulse quickens, but Leo’s picking up the pathology report. ‘Because toxicology results suggest there was very little alcohol in your husband’s bloodstream. Did he take any other substances that day?’
‘Rhys didn’t do drugs.’
‘Let me rephrase that,’ Leo says. ‘Did you give your husband any substances on the day of the party?
Yasmin’s eyes widen. ‘What are you suggesting? That I drugged my husband?’
‘We showed you a list of medication seized from your bedroom,’ Ffion says. ‘Your reaction suggested you had something to hide.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ There it is again: the same panicked look they’d seen at Glynis’s house.
Leo leans on the table. ‘Did you drug your husband?’
‘No!’
‘He was killed in his office,’ Leo continues. ‘Somewhere – by your own admission – you went to several times, during the party.’
‘With dozens of guests!’ Yasmin gives a humourless laugh. She looks towards the door, as though she’s considering walking out – as though she’s free to do so. A fine sheen of sweat has broken out across her forehead.
‘What do you know about ricin?’ Ffion says.
For the first time in the interview, Yasmin seems genuinely confused. ‘I don’t even know what that is.’
‘It’s a drug,’ Ffion says. ‘Prepared from a widely available garden plant and highly toxic. A tiny amount can cause the body to shut down, with death occurring from a few hours to a few days later.’ God bless the internet.
‘I wouldn’t know the first thing about buying drugs, let alone preparing them – I just don’t move in those sorts of circles.’ Yasmin looks desperately at her solicitor. ‘I’m an interior designer; I have respectable friends. I carry a National Trust card.’
‘What time did you last see your husband, on the night of the party?’ Leo says.
‘I’m not certain. I told the twins to give him a sandwich, in an attempt to mop up the booze. I watched him eat it, around nine-thirty or ten, but I’m not sure if I saw him after that.’
‘CCTV tells us that Rhys walked from the Charltons’ lodge to your own, soon after ten-thirty p.m.’ Leo presses play, and four sets of eyes watch Rhys Lloyd stagger down the driveway of The Shore. Ffion lets her own lose focus, until the screen is too pixelated to make out Rhys’s figure. ‘Did you follow him?’
‘Well presumably, detective’ – Yasmin stresses the title – ‘you would see me on camera, if I’d done that. But you won’t, because I didn’t murder my husband.’
‘The cameras are easy to avoid,’ Ffion says, ‘if you know they’re there.’ She doesn’t look at Leo. If only she’d thought about CCTV; if only she’d walked along the shore instead of driving, instead of parking in full fucking view of the cameras.