Free Mummy's Favourite by Sarah Flint Page B

was. She was learning with every question that came from his lips. He was fucking excellent!
    And suddenly the kettle was boiling.
    â€˜No comment,’ Hubbard screamed, leaping up from his seat and slamming the table with his fists. ‘No fucking comment.’
    The door to the interview room flew open and two burly policemen stood stock-still taking in the scene. Charlie jumped to her feet as Annabel Leigh-Matthews slid from her chair to the floor in the corner of the room, pressing herself against the wall away from the melee as Hubbard reared up again banging his fists against his temples.
    â€˜Why can’t you lot leave me alone? Going on and on and on and on. Fuckin’ messing with my head, that’s all you do.’
    The officers were on him now, pushing him backwards away from the desk. Charlie threw her weight hard against him too, pinning him against the wall and pulling his arms round to the rear, before clapping him quickly in handcuffs. He was sweating profusely from the effort of resisting but getting nowhere. She stepped back, satisfied and watched as all the fight came out of him and he started to cry, great shuddering sobs that he couldn’t control and that made him curse. He swivelled his head round so that he was staring straight at her, his expression venomous.
    â€˜See what you’ve fucking done to me now, you bitch. See what you’ve done. You’ve made me like this. You women, all nice and sweet and friendly at first. Julie did that to me too! Why don’t you ask the man that keeps on phoning my house what he knows? Pussy! Never speaks. As soon as he hears me, he hangs up. He must want her or else he would say something. Who knows? She’s probably screwing him. I loved her you know, but she’s fucked everything up and now I hate her. I hate every bit of her, every memory, every fucking mention of her. She’s done this to me. She deserves to rot in hell. You women all deserve to rot in hell.’
    His cheeks were wet with tears as he was bundled out of the interview room, back towards the cells.
    Annabel Leigh-Matthews looked towards the door before pulling herself up to her feet.
    â€˜Sorry I wasn’t much help,’ she mumbled apologetically.
    â€˜Don’t worry. You were a great help,’ Hunter replied, with a satisfied grin. ‘Your advice to say no comment assisted us no end.’
    He turned to Charlie and spoke seriously.
    â€˜Thank you for your presence too, DC Stafford. I think it’s fair to say that after our little chat, Mr Hubbard has given us two very strong reasons why Julie and Richard may have disappeared. He doesn’t like women and he has distinct anger management issues.’

Chapter 12
    Hunter was chewing on the end of a pen impatiently as Charlie jogged in. He had long since worked his way through every one of his finger-nails and small spots of blood framed each cuticle where he had chewed them too low. He was staring at the phone now.
    â€˜Why are they taking so bleedin’ long?’
    â€˜It is Saturday, guv. We’re lucky that anyone’s in, especially this early.’
    He spat out a piece of misshaped plastic from the pen, cursing as the ink cartridge slid out of the flattened end landing in front of him on the desk. Charlie moved to wipe away a small streak of ink, but he brushed her hand away impatiently, throwing the pen towards the bin and cursing again as it hit the rim and bounced off on to the floor. He looked her up and down frowning.
    She went to speak but thought better of it, though she did feel more than a little aggrieved that, having come in especially on the weekend to keep up the momentum of the case, Hunter was clearly taking out his bad mood on her. Her mother had also been on her case, warning her not to overdo things too soon. Charlie was literally saved from saying anything by the bell.
    As Hunter answered the phone, his expression turned from irritation to astonishment,