The Whole Truth Hunter, Cara (motivational novels for students TXT) đ
Book online «The Whole Truth Hunter, Cara (motivational novels for students TXT) đ». Author Hunter, Cara
Ev looks across at him. âWould you be saying ânothing actually happenedâ if the genders had been reversed? If it was a male tutor and a female student? No, of course you wouldnât.â
âI know we all know this,â says Asante evenly, looking from the one to the other, âbut sexual assault isnât about sex. Itâs about power. And Fisherâs the one with all the power in this relationship. If she was abusing that power some other way â academically, I mean â then Morgan would have every right to make a complaint. Why is this any different?â
Quinn is shaking his head. âHeâs still taking a massive risk ââ
âWhat about her?â says Ev quickly. âComing on to a student like that, knowing he could go straight to the college authorities and report her? Thatâs what I call taking a risk.â
âBut thatâs the point,â I say. âTheyâre both risk takers. Morgan said so himself, in interview. He said anyone working in that field has to be prepared to take risks or theyâll never get anywhere.â
Ev frowns. âTheyâre both as bad as each other, is that what youâre saying?â
âIâm saying these are both people who might be more prepared than most to play a high-stakes game.â
Thereâs a pause. Theyâre not sure where that gets us and, frankly, neither am I.
âI donât know why CID are even on this,â mutters Quinn. âNever mind the whole bloody team.â
Classic Quinn, but for once I sympathize. I wouldnât have the entire team on it either, given the choice, but we donât have the excuse of a more pressing case, and â rather more pertinently â Iâm anticipating that sooner or later the Chief Constable will be âtaking an interestâ or âjust checking inâ or whatever apparently-casual-only-clearly-not phrase his PA comes up with. As my first Inspector once put it, âItâs only a suggestion, but letâs not forget whoâs making it.â
âThereâs something about Fisher,â says Asante eventually. âI canât put my finger on it but somethingâs definitely off. All that stuff about not being able to remember â itâs a bit too convenient, if you ask me.â
âOn the other hand,â I say, âwhy hasnât Morgan mentioned the rip to the dress? Heâs been upfront about the fact that there was a physical altercation â why not mention that the dress got ripped in the process?â
Ev shrugs. âPerhaps he didnât realize? Perhaps he just doesnât remember?â
Quinn gives a dismissive snort and looks away. âYeah, right. He canât remember, she canât remember. He said/she said. Itâs all bollocks â the whole thing.â
I see Ev about to object and decide to step in.
âOK, weâve probably all had enough for one day. But DC Quinnâs right about one thing: the CPS will never run with this as it stands. If we get DNA from Morganâs body, it could be a whole different ball game. But meanwhile, whether we like it or not, we canât ignore who his mother is. Not least because I doubt sheâs going to let us. Remember that debate about sexual violence in the Union a couple of months back? Sheâd be all over this, even if the victim in question wasnât her son.â
Quinn sighs heavily. âJust what we need. Being crapped on from a great height by an up-themselves politico.â
âRight,â I say briskly. Because that sort of attitude isnât going to get us â or Quinn â anywhere. âSo letâs not give her the satisfaction. Forensics will be at least a couple of days, and thatâs if weâre lucky. So in the meantime, we do our homework. We need to confirm Morganâs story with his girlfriend and talk to Fisherâs colleagues, both here and anywhere sheâs worked in the past. I want to know if thereâs been even the slightest hint of anything like this before. And check whether any of those people were also guests at the Balliol dinner â letâs see if we can find out if there were any signs of damage when she left, either to her or that bloody dress.â
âWeâll need to be careful though,â says Asante cautiously. âThis sort of allegation â it would wreck her career. And if it turns out she didnât do it ââ
âPrecisely. So discretion, please. I want to eavesdrop on the rumour mill, not start it.â
I stand up; Asanteâs making a note, Ev is gathering her things, Quinn just looks narked.
âIâll get DC Baxter going on Fisherâs phone and Iâll also see if we can get Bryan Gow to have a look at Fisherâs interview footage. If Asanteâs right and something really is off here, heâs our best chance of nailing it. As for the rest of it, DC Quinn, youâre stand-in DS. Over to you.â
Quinn looks up. âYes, boss,â he says.
Heâs perked up already.
* * *
Itâs dusk, that most deceptive time of the day. The memory of light still in the sky, but the earth dark below. No oneâs noticed the man parked up by the side of the road, not even the usually nosey old chap whoâs just gone by with his dog. But why would he? The man hasnât moved for a while â hasnât read a newspaper, turned on the radio, dug a packet of mints out of the glovebox. The vehicle is silent, and so is he. He does nothing. Nothing, that is, but watch.
A few moments later a door opposite opens and a woman comes quickly down the path to the trellis enclosure by the gate. She lifts the lid of one of the bins and drops a black plastic bag inside, before turning and looking up and down the street. Sheâs looking directly at him now and he slides a bit further down in the seat, even though he knows itâs too dark, and too far, to see his face.
When the man glances up again two women are coming towards him along the pavement. Yakking away, their toddlers bundled up in buggies. Thereâs an older kid too, a
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