phoned me while I was there!’ This was vital information; it could help establish time of death. I’d forgotten it until now. I looked at them expectantly. Either this wasn’t as interesting to them as I thought it would be, or they were playing it very cool.
Coleman doodled with his pen. ‘What time was that?’
‘Um …’ I racked my brain. Was Karen’s the first call that night? Before or after Sean’s call? Or was it Robbie’s? Both. Both had called. But Karen had called first. I had arrived at Prego not long after eight. ‘Eight-thirty’ I concluded. ‘She called me about eight-thirty.’
Coleman made a note on his pad. His Pitman’s looked fine to me.
‘You were with someone?’ Aaron’s tone was flat. Unreadable.
‘Yes.’ He waited for me to elaborate. ‘His name is Ned. I’m not sure he told me his last name.’ I knew how bad that sounded but forced myself not to make it worse by blabbering on. I thought I detected a faint sarcastic twitch of Coleman’s freckled lip.
‘And Ned will be able to verify this?’
‘Yes. I’m sure he will.’ Shit! Can. I should have said he can verify it.
‘You’re going out with Robbie Lather, aren’t you?’
I felt my face flush. ‘What’s that got to do with it?’ It sounded defensive. I felt defensive.
Aaron shrugged. ‘Robbie and I play footy together. That’s all. He’s a great guy.’
It felt like a slap, a rebuke, but that might have been my own guilt. I hadn’t told Robbie about the dinner with Ned.
‘Yeah, he is a great guy.’ As a riposte, pathetic, but it was all I could manage.
Aaron picked up the paper cup of water and knocked it back in one motion. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Then he scrunched up the cup and dropped it into the wastepaper bin. I fantasised about un-scrunching the cup and licking the dribbles in the bottom. Now there was just the untouched letter on the desk between us. Coleman stared at a stick figure he’d drawn on his notepad, his pen poised. I was guessing that the stick figure was me. I expected him to draw a hangman’s noose around its neck any minute.
‘And you didn’t return to Wellington until the following day. Saturday?’ It was the first real question Coleman had asked.
‘That’s right. I waited for Karen to turn up for the meeting with her daughter at one o’clock. When she didn’t show, I flew straight back to Wellington, picked up my car from the long term and drove directly to her house. That’s when I found her.’ We all stared at the untouched envelope. I was determined not to be the one to speak next.
‘Karen had a visitor Friday night,’ Aaron said. So that’s why my phone call information hadn’t impressed. They had already known she was still alive then.
‘Well, it wasn’t me,’ I said, keeping it simple.
They waited, hoping for more, I think. I considered telling them about Karen’s friend Manny who was due Friday night for a prayer session, but decided against it. Normally, I would have volunteered this information. Normally, I have a cordial relationship with the police; after all, it’s from the police that I get most of my jobs. Used to, anyway. But right now, in this not-so-cordial environment, I wasn’t going to risk saying anything more than I absolutely had to.
Aaron nodded. ‘Mind if we keep this?’ he said brightly, indicating the envelope.
‘Sure.’
We all stared at the envelope. Still neither of them touched it.
Aaron shook hands with me and then Coleman led me out of the room, his palm poised centimetres over the small of my back. We waited in silence for the elevator. When it arrived he ushered me forward then leaned in and pushed the G button. He walked back along the corridor without saying a word. There is no elevator in the country that plummets at the rate of the Wellington Central Police Station’s. As my stomach lurched I pictured them back in the interview room excitedly unzipping sterile glove and evidence bags. I knew there was no point asking if I could have the two thousand dollar cheque back. Not that it would be any more use to me than the unbanked down payment cheque still in the top drawer of my desk at home; Karen’s bank account would be well and truly frozen solid.
Thinking the interview would take half an hour, I’d left Wolf in the back seat to gnaw on the prize stick he’d claimed at Lyall Bay.