Syn (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 2)

was anxiety in his voice.
After confirming his age and address, Smith spoke freely about their relationship and their troubles, admitting that Carla had put up with a lot from him over their period together.
‘Temptation comes my way far too frequently in my job, probably the proximity and intensity in which I work. Dance instructors have a similar problem, I think.’ He looked down at his hands before proclaiming, ‘The type of young women I coach and my inability to say no is the biggest problem. I talked it over with Carla on many occasions. She’d been such a rock during that time. What’s the song say “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”?’
‘“Eaten bread is soon forgotten”, my old Dad always used to say, Mr Smith,’ Skeeter replied sarcastically, the disdain clearly audible in her tone.
As a result, there was a brief moment of silence as Smith looked down at his clenched hands.
‘What about her drinking? Is that just her or is it because she found it hard living in an unpredictable relationship?’ April enquired whilst leaning back.
‘It’s been a problem ever since I’ve known her. Fit as a flea but can she shove it away when we’re out! Can drink until she falls over. Never suffers from a hangover, see. That makes a massive difference. Me? I lose two days if I drink heavily. She can go from comatose in the evening to bright as a button and training within six hours. Used to piss me off no end I can tell you. Wasn’t natural.’
‘Did she have affairs?’ Skeeter asked, her voice quiet. Her eyes remained on the paper in front of her as if she had the answer there and was waiting for him to either confirm it or make a mistake.
‘Not that I’m aware of but who knows, other than Carla?’
‘The other guilty party I would assume, Mr Smith.’ She brought her eyes to meet his but he quickly looked away, either through guilt or embarrassment about which eye to focus on. ‘We heard that when you were living at the flat on Lord Street you did on occasion lock her out. Tell us about this.’
‘Fucking Gaskell!’
From being totally calm, even having just been admonished, he turned immediately, his anger clear in his venomous tone.
‘The word is “occasionally”. She’d start getting angry, querying where I’d been and it would escalate. She’d become violent, throw things, break stuff, so I’d open the door and carry her out. She was usually drunk, very drunk.’
‘And you put her out on the street in that condition?’
‘She was no weak female when she was like that. I’d defy any man to approach her with the wrong intention as they’d receive more than they’d bargained for believe me. I knew her.’
‘Interesting wording. “Was”, “knew” – past tense, Mr Smith. I’d say, “is” and “know” unless I knew something others didn’t. Funny that. I’ll just make a note.’
‘Was, is. It’s the same.’ Smith took a swig from the bottle.
‘Did you ever hit her?’ It was April who continued the interview. As one officer stopped the other started, each voice carrying a different tone to raise or lower the intensity of the questioning. It was as they had planned.
The next silence was prolonged. ‘Yes, or a simple no is all we ask at this stage.’
‘Possibly.’
‘What? You possibly did or you possibly didn’t? Which is it? Yes or no, Mr Smith?’
‘Yes. I think she riled me to get me in an angry state so that I’d lash out. She’d then demand sex. Often she’d start removing her clothing … my anger kind of turned her on.’
‘When you put her out, she wasn’t in your words, “turned on” then I’m guessing?’
Smith remained silent for a moment. He shrugged his shoulders as if unable to answer accurately.
‘How long did you wait before you let her return?’
‘It varied. Gaskell, the landlord, used to let her in. She’d go to his place and then come home. I’d get a knock and an apology.’
‘So, how long would she be with Gaskell?’
‘An hour or so but sometimes she’d be there all night.’
Skeeter looked at April. ‘So, you’re stating that you were happy that your drunken partner who might or might not be “turned on” was being entertained in a neighbour’s flat all night – all night, Mr Smith?’
‘He was looking after her not entertaining her. You make it sound so sordid,’ Smith protested and for the second time they saw his anger escalate as he clenched his fists.
‘Did she ever have sexual relations with Gaskell?’ Skeeter leaned forward.
‘How the hell do I know?’
‘Intuition, sixth sense, uncertainty, possibility, likelihood. She was drunk, probably angry with you, undoubtedly “turned on” and wanting to get back at you. You believed that was her intention. When you parted you eventually realised how attractive a woman you had let go. You heard about or saw her with other men. You were jealous then but did the jealousy turn to rage? We can see now from our chat that you can quickly become angry. Did your anger culminate in violence as it has in the past?’
Skeeter glanced at April as if inviting her to pick up the baton. The tension was now palpable. The smile had been replaced with a scowl and his whole body had stiffened. Veins were clearly visible to either side of his neck and his temples. His face was flushed.
‘Are you blaming me for her disappearance? Are you seriously accusing me of killing her?’
‘Nobody has mentioned anyone being killed, Mr Smith, other than you.’
It was now open for Skeeter. ‘Did you put her out again – permanently this time because you realised that you’d lost her and she was getting along just fine without you? New flat, new men in her life, yes, plural and of course her friends. She didn’t need you and she would no longer come running home?’ Skeeter’s question was direct and purposefully designed to rile.
‘No! Utter rubbish. We’d finished. I didn’t see her for ages before she