Written In Blood

16-1

16

Zack was showering when the doorbell rang. He cursed briefly, and hoped that whoever was at the door would go away. A second chime told him the person on his doorstep was not going to leave so easily, and it was then that he remembered his neighbour telling him the police had been looking for him.

Stepping out of the shower, he crossed to the window so he could poke his head out.

“I’ll be right there,” he called out, before returning to the shower long enough to rinse himself off. Once he had done that he dried himself off quickly and left the bathroom, wrapping the towel around his waist as he headed down the stairs.

Answering the door wearing just a towel was not something he would do usually, he didn’t consider it decent, but on that occasion he thought it better to let the police in and then get dressed.

“Forgive my appearance,” he said once he had greeted the two officers on his doorstep. “You caught me in the shower. If you’ll wait in the living room, I’ll get dressed and be right down.”

Melissa took a seat on the sofa, while Mitchell took a position near the fireplace so he could see the whole room and get some idea of what sort of person Zack Wild was, and whether he could be the killer he suspected he was.

Zack was back in under five minutes, having swapped the towel for a pair of well-worn blue jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. “Can I get either of you anything to drink?” he asked from the doorway.

“No, thank you,” Mitchell said before Melissa had a chance to say anything.

“Okay, in that case, I guess we should get down to your reason for being here.” Zack left the doorway and took the armchair. “I assume this visit has something to do with the body I found this morning.”

Mitchell nodded. “Yes. We have some more questions we need to ask you about Georgina Ryder, and about another matter that has come up. Do you have the time to talk?” he asked. He was ready to arrest the writer if he answered in the negative, but he didn’t want to do that without good cause; he suspected it would cause problems.

“Sure, I haven’t got anything else I need to do today.”

“Okay, well, first off, you said earlier that you normally follow the road through the village and head out towards town when on one of your runs; have you ever gone down by the river before today?”

“I’ve been that way before, only the once, though. I’ve explored most of the village, and the countryside around it – not in any great depth, but well enough to get around.”

“When was it you explored the riverbank along from the pub?”

A shrug was Zack’s immediate response. “Not sure exactly, it was a while ago, back around the time I first moved here.”

“So you haven’t been that way in the past week or so? You wouldn’t know if there had been anyone hanging around the area where you found Georgina Ryder?”

“No, ‘fraid not.”

Mitchell showed no sign of being bothered by that answer, though he did react when he was posed a question in return.

“Do I take it you’ve been able to identify the girl I found?” Zack asked.

“Yes. Did you know her?”

“As I said at the station when you questioned me, I’d heard the name around the village,” Zack said. “As I understand it, she was missing for about a week, but I don’t think I ever met her – in passing maybe, but not properly.”

Mitchell responded to that by taking out the photograph of Georgina Ryder that had been provided by her mother when she was reported missing. “This is Georgina,” he said. “Do you remember meeting her now?”

Zack took the photograph but soon shook his head. “Sorry, never met her; I did see her around the village a couple of times, in the shop or something, I never spoke to her, though.”

“When did you last see her?”

“No idea.”

That was not the answer Mitchell was after, and he had to stop himself grinding his teeth in frustration. Once he had the impulse under control, he said, “So you didn’t see her last Friday evening? Only we have a report that she was seen heading up the road outside on her way to the Wright Farm.”

“I wish I could help, but I didn’t see anyone last Friday.”

“You’re sure about that?” Mitchell asked. When Zack nodded, he said, “Where were you last Friday evening, from about six?”

“At home, I was home all evening.”

“And you definitely didn’t see Georgina, or anyone who could be responsible for what happened to her?”

Zack shook his head. “Like I said, I didn’t see anyone.”

“So you were at home all evening and you didn’t see anyone,” Mitchell said dubiously. “What were you doing?”

“This and that, nothing special, mostly just pottering around, keeping myself busy.”

Mitchell couldn’t conceal what a hard time he was having believing the author. “Is there anyone who can confirm where you were, or what you were doing?”

A rueful smile touched Zack’s lips. “I wish I could say yes, but I can’t, I was on my own. You’ll probably be able to find time stamps for things on f*******: and on the emails I sent out, but that’s all the alibi I have.”

Since he had nothing, yet, to contradict Wild’s alibi, Mitchell had no choice but to accept it and move on. “Do you know a Lucy Goulding?” He wondered if the lack of surprise shown by Wild meant anything.

“I wouldn’t say I know her,” Zack said. “She turned up on my doorstep yesterday afternoon.”

Such an open admission was the last thing Mitchell expected. He had been sure he would have to reveal that there was a witness before getting Zack Wild to admit to knowing her. “She came to see you? What time was that?”

“A little after two; I’m not sure of the exact time,” Zack answered. “Has something happened to her?”

Mitchell ignored the question. “How long was she here? Why was she here?”

Melissa thought the second question a little pointless – it seemed obvious to her why Lucy had visited the author – but supposed it had to be asked, for the sake of thoroughness.

“She was here for about an hour, something like that. She got here not long after two, and it was getting on for half three when she left. I wasn’t looking at the clock, so I can’t give you exact times, sorry.” Even to his own ears, his apology sounded insincere.

“Why was she here for that long?”

Zack ignored both the suspicion in Mitchell’s voice and the question, instead of responding to them he repeated his own inquiry. “Has something happened to Lucy?”

“We’re not sure,” Mitchell made the admission reluctantly. “She hasn’t been seen since yesterday afternoon, and, so far, you’re the last person to have seen her. Now, why was Lucy Goulding here? What time did she leave, and is there anyone who can confirm that she actually did leave?”

“Yes, my neighbour, Mrs Hawkins, she was pottering around her garden for most of the afternoon; I’m sure she’ll be able to give you a rough idea of when Lucy left.”

The moment he heard that Mitchell left Wild’s so he could head next door and speak to his suspect’s neighbour.

**