Free The Swedish Girl by Alex Gray Page B

Colin walked into the room. His first thought was of all the real criminals who had been here, quizzed about their terrible misdeeds. A throbbing began in his temple. Was that tension headache returning, or was it that the very air shimmered with the lies that had been spun like spiders’ webs over the years?
    ‘Mr Young? Are you all right?’ DI Grant was taking Colin by the arm now, sitting him down in that blue padded chair by the table. ‘Would you like a drink of water?’
    Colin nodded then licked his lips and swallowed. ‘Please,’ he whispered.
    She was gone and back in less than a minute, returning with a bottle of mineral water and a plastic beaker. Not glass, Colin realised, imagining a mad thug smashing a tumbler and hefting it across the woman’s face. He winced, the image was so real, then took the bottle and poured it into the beaker, watching his hand shaking all the time. She must see that too, Colin realised, grasping the beaker and taking deep gulps of the water.
    ‘Better?’
    Colin nodded and stifled a sigh. Glancing up, he looked at the detective properly for the first time. Detective Inspector Grant was quite a pretty woman, her dark hair cut short in a way that suited her elfin face. She had little make-up on that he could see and the tiny silver earrings shaped into knots were her only adornment. Colin’s gaze fell onto her fingers. No rings. Not married, then, he thought, trying to sum her up as best he could. Her rust-coloured shirt and dark brown suit were smart but not intimidating and he had noticed her high-heeled shoes tapping a beat along the corridor before him. A stylish lady, he would say were he asked, but not the sort of woman he fancied.
    Her grey eyes were looking into his face as he regarded her and Colin blushed, suddenly aware that he was staring.
    ‘Okay, well, thanks for coming in today, Mr Young. We know it’s been a pretty traumatic time for you all these last couple of days so we do appreciate your being here.’
    Colin looked up over her shoulder, seeing a uniformed officer for the first time standing by the door. Of course there had to be a second person there, hadn’t Kirsty told him that? They needed to corroborate any witness statement, didn’t they? Or was it in case one of the people being interviewed turned nasty?
    ‘… want you to tell me about the party,’ DI Grant was saying, her words cutting in on Colin’s thoughts.
    ‘Party?’ He gave his head a little shake as though to clear it. ‘Oh, right. What can I tell you?’ he asked, his hands clenched together under the table where he hoped she could not see them.
    ‘What can you remember of Eva’s movements that night?’ the detective asked.
    They were dancing together, Eva’s hand clasped in his when he pulled her closer, smelling the sweet scent of her hair, feeling her body mould itself to his. Did she notice his hardness? She’d smiled up at him as though it were the most natural thing in the world; a cat’s smile of satisfaction, he remembered. Then his arms were around her and they were kissing, moving into a darker corner where he swayed to the music, wanting her, wanting her…
    ‘She was dancing quite a lot,’ Colin began, swallowing hard and avoiding eye contact with the woman opposite.
    ‘With anyone in particular?’ Grant asked, her tone sharp, reminding him that this was an official enquiry.
    Colin shook his head, not trusting his voice to add to all the years of lies that smothered the air in this room.
    ‘Can you remember when she left the party, perhaps?’
    Sleep must have overtaken him afterwards, for when he eventually did awaken, she was gone, leaving him shivering and alone. Had he imagined that too? Had that longing translated itself into a dream or reality? Wandering back into the main room his eyes had peered through the gloom, trying to catch a glimpse of her in that pretty frock, hoping that she wasn’t one of the couples necking in a corner. And then, when he was