Free The Silence (Dc Goodhew 4) by Alison Bruce Page B

you understand?’
    Goodhew nodded, but he didn’t agree. If only the steps to suicide were so clearly signposted before the event. In his experience the trigger usually came from problems that weren’t so obvious to everyone else.
    ‘And how was your relationship with her?’
    Libby bit her top lip while she considered the question. ‘The first couple of days she was here I couldn’t stand being in the same room. She asked daft questions about everything, from posting a letter to catching a bus. D’you know how some people get you helping them with simple things and before you know it you’re indispensible? My instincts told me not to let her latch on. Maybe I was wrong, but she didn’t seem quite on the same planet as the rest of us. She always dressed like a “before” on a makeover show, her hair needed trimming and she didn’t bother with make-up when it would have done her a favour.’ Libby threw up her hands. ‘I’m being honest and I sound like a bitch. But it didn’t take me long to realize that she didn’t pay attention to those things like other people, because they weren’t important to her. Whenever she stopped hiding behind her high IQ she could be pretty sweet.’
    ‘You liked her then?’
    ‘She grew on me enough that I would have felt something when she left. Left properly, I mean.’
    Goodhew dropped that line of thought abruptly. Instead, he looked down at his notepad until he was certain that the silence between them was beginning to seem uncomfortably long. Then with equal abruptness, he asked his next question. ‘How would you describe yourself?’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Sum yourself up in two or three words.’
    She looked confused.
    ‘For example, would you describe yourself as honest?’
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘Tell me about your trip to London.’
    She shook her head. ‘This is crap.’
    She was right, but Goodhew’s aim was to give things a little shake just to see what, if anything, fell out. Hard facts and straight answers were just a bonus. ‘So you were in your room all the time, but you pretended to be out?’
    ‘That’s right. I didn’t want to be disturbed.’
    ‘Fair enough, but lying about a visit to London seems extreme.’
    ‘So is calling it “lying”.’ She looked as though she felt suspicious of him.
    Goodhew changed tack. ‘Is there a reason you and Matt have chosen to study in Cambridge? Most people don’t decide to stay in their home city, do they?’
    She shrugged. ‘Some do, I suppose. Maybe I didn’t want to move away.’
    ‘But neither of you wanted to live at home either.’
    She drew a new breath as if she was about to say something, but no words followed. ‘I decided I was old enough to move out,’ she muttered finally.
    ‘And that’s financially possible?’
    ‘Yes.’ She wasn’t about to volunteer anything further.
    ‘How do you afford it, Libby?’
    She hesitated. ‘Matt’s dad and my dad rented this house. With what the others pay, it’s almost covered. My mum and dad help out. Matt’s dad chips in a bit more so sometimes Matt pays for things.
    ‘And your relationship with Matt?’
    ‘Relationship? What is this, some kind of personal vetting? There is no “relationship”.’
    ‘So Matt was a stranger to you when you moved into the house on King Street?’
    She smiled at the surface of the desk, before looking back at Goodhew. ‘Sorry, I misunderstood.’
    ‘That’s okay.’ The sudden softening of her demeanour was interesting.
    ‘I’ve known Matt for years. We lived down the road from each other when we were kids. We’re good mates.
Best
mates.’
    Goodhew stifled the urge to point out that Matt had been such a good mate that he’d been sent texts claiming she was seventy miles away in London. ‘It says here that you are studying accountancy?’
    ‘Yes, that’s right.’
    ‘You’re seventeen. Not a degree then?’
    ‘No, A-levels. They call it a foundation in accountancy but I know someone who took the course