Read Online The Fall by Claire McGowan - Free Book Online Page A

gone.
    From the door of the ladies’ toilets came a sound like an animal wailing, and then two black girls burst out, one tall and one shorter, sprinting past the security guards and into the street. ‘Leave off, Grandpa,’ one shouted back. They’d pulled scarves over their faces and by the time he’d followed outside they were long gone, slipped into one of the side streets and vanished. The only witness left was a third girl, the skinny mixed-race one who’d run out of the toilets shouting for someone to call an ambulance. A female security guard went in and led out Charlotte Miller, her mouth and eye streaming with blood. Her hand was clutched in front of her and when it leaked blood all over the guard’s white shirt it was found to be her own tooth she held, knocked out when the girls had attacked her.
    Hegarty took control of the situation – it was his job. He gave Charlotte Miller some basic first aid, and through the gushing blood his clean hankie failed to stem, she recognised him. ‘Offisher.’
    ‘Don’t try to talk, miss.’
    When the victim was carted off to hospital – yet more blood leaking all over Hegarty – it was left to him to interview the witness. ‘Your name?’
    The skinny girl folded her arms. ‘I didn’t do nothing. I just went in and they was hitting her.’
    ‘Who were the girls?’
    ‘How’m I meant to know?’
    ‘Do you know the victim at all?’
    ‘Who, the blondie? Nah.’
    ‘Well, what are you doing at court, then?’ He tapped his pen off the notebook cover and she narrowed her eyes.
    ‘Anyone can come in court, can’t they? S’a free country.’
    He sighed. ‘So, you’re just an innocent bystander.’ They always were.
    ‘Eh? I just went in, s’all. Them two girls was hitting her, and I must of scared them off, so they scarpered.’
    He unpeeled the printout of Rachel Johnson’s phone picture from his pocket. ‘You know who this is? The white guy?’
    She looked at it just a bit too long. ‘Course not.’
    ‘Was he here today?’
    ‘Dunno, OK? I got nothing to do with it. I don’t even know what the case is.’
    ‘I’ll still need your name, miss. And your address too.’
    ‘How come?’
    He was losing patience. ‘You want me to arrest you?’
    ‘Fine.’ She scowled. ‘Keisha Collins. Live up in Swiss Cottage – here, I’ll write it. There. Can I go now?’
    As she stormed out he followed her to the door and saw her walk off to the bus stop. Hegarty had very good eyesight. He saw a white man emerge from behind the sign and leave with the girl, both of them waving their arms like they were having a fight. What were the chances this was the white guy from Rachel Johnson’s phone, and that the fleeing girls were Rachel herself and her mate Mel, taking out their grief on the girlfriend of the accused? He sighed and put his notebook away. What were the chances he’d ever be able to prove it?
Keisha
    By the time Keisha and Chris left the court it was past lunchtime and she was starving. She was also raging mad.
    Chris got into the flat and switched on the TV, which was showing reels of Daniel Stockbridge being led away to a police van. He fiddled with the remote and turned on Sky Sports. He didn’t look at her. He’d barely spoken all the way home. Now, still without looking at her, he said, ‘Get us some lunch, will you.’
    She was still furious as she went into the kitchen. Weird enough to be woken and made to go down there, but that had been nothing compared with seeing Chris nod to Rachel and Mel as they went into the court coffee bar. What were they doing there, the girls from the club? For a moment she’d seen white with anger – was that slut Rachel out to get her claws into Chris?
    Chris had spoken to them. ‘After,’ he’d said. ‘In the bogs, if she goes, or outside. Get the purse, remember?’
    They’d nodded, all grim, and when Keisha said, ‘What’s going on?’ they’d just looked at each other like they were Charlie’s