Free A Fatal Verdict by Tim Vicary

know, they were ringing for some service, it’s hellish, you can’t hear yourself think. Anyhow I called out to Shelley that I was back, but she probably didn’t hear me because of the bells, so I opened the bathroom door, and there she was ...’
    He paused and rubbed his eyes, and again Terry wondered, is this genuine or staged? But he, too, had to show sympathy, in case this tape was played back later in court.
    ‘Mr Kidd, I know it’s hard, but can you tell me exactly how Shelley looked when you found her?’
    ‘Well, she looked dead, didn’t she? Covered in blood. So I rang 999. And then, when I was talking to this woman, she moved, so I knew she wasn’t dead, and I ...’
    ‘She moved?’ Terry hadn’t known this. It shocked him.
    ‘Yeah. That’s how I knew she was still alive. I think ... I think she saw me.’
    ‘What did you do then?’
    ‘Well, I tried to help her, of course. It’s all ...’ He shook his head. ‘It’s hard to remember.’
    ‘You must have been shocked.’
    ‘Shocked? Yeah. Course I was.’ David’s eyes had gone blank, seeing nothing in the room, staring inwards at the vision in his mind. The performance certainly looked genuine, and yet Terry was not sure. It could also be the intensity of imagination, visualising his story for the first time. Had this boy been shocked by his discovery, as he claimed? Or had he caused it?
    ‘Was her head under water when you first saw her?’
    ‘Yeah, I think ... I don’t remember exactly, it was all on one side, you know, floppy. Yes;  one eye was under water, I remember that, so I went and lifted her head, I did that, and I tried to get her out of the bath altogether but I couldn’t because she was all so slippery and heavy. It was horrible, I couldn’t do it, so ... you know, there was blood all over me, there still is, I’ve never seen anything like that, I didn’t know what to do, it makes you feel ill ...’
    ‘So what did you do, in the end?’
    ‘Well, the lady on the phone, she told me to try to stop the bleeding, so I went and got a plaster from the cupboard in the kitchen, but it didn’t do any good, I couldn’t get it to stick on and it was too small anyway and there was blood everywhere, you know it’s so slippery and I felt ill ... and then the paramedics came and took over. But they couldn’t save her either, could they? So it’s no good blaming me. They’ve had all that training but they couldn’t save her. It was all too late.’
    He seemed genuinely moved now. But the memory of a dead body was not a thing that most people could recall with equanimity. Even murderers could weep for their victims. Terry had seen it done.
    ‘All right, Mr Kidd, just one more question. This knife. When you went into the bathroom did you see it there on the floor?’
    ‘What? I don’t know, I can’t remember. I mean, if it was there, I must have I suppose, but I was looking at Shelley, wasn’t I, not the knife.’
    ‘But did you pick it up or touch it in any way?’
    ‘Pick it up? No, why should I?’
    ‘You might have wanted to move it, put it somewhere else.’
    ‘No. No, I don’t think I did that. I don’t remember doing anything with it.’
    ‘You’re sure?’
    ‘Sure I’m sure. What would I want with the knife? For Christ’s sake, I was trying to save Shelley, wasn’t I? Not kill her.’
    ‘Yes.’ Silence fell, and Terry watched the young man wordlessly, while the tape revolved quietly in the recorder. He was lying, Terry felt sure of it. But there was no proof, and his story seemed plausible. So unless he admitted his guilt, Terry and his team would have to prove it. They would have to examine all the evidence carefully - see what fingerprints were on the knife, what could be deduced from the clothes and other items in the flat.  A lot would rely on the post mortem, and the information Tracy might get from the girl’s parents. And then there was the question of David’s alibi. Had anyone seen him in the