A frown flickered across Liz Marcek’s face. Can I ask why?

‘There’s a piece of evidence we need to show them,’ Forest interjected. There was a pause; Liz was clearly hoping the DI would elaborate, but when Forest didn’t give her any more information she nodded.

Okay. I’ll bring them to you.

Liz set us up in a meeting room, then a few minutes later returned with both of the girls in tow. Cassie looked nervously between the two detectives while Courtney sat down primly on one of the chairs.

What’s wrong? Courtney asked.

‘We want you both to have a look at something we found at Normanby Hall,’ Singh explained, pulling a small plastic evidence bag out of his pocket. I could see the shape of the charm, and wondered if either of the girls would claim it as theirs. Liz had stayed in the room and I could see her craning to see what it was.

Cassie took the bag from Singh and peered at it, then shook her head. It’s not mine.

Courtney leant over and took it from Cassie’s hand. What is it?

‘It’s a charm, from a bracelet. It’s the letter C. So you can understand why we wanted to talk to you both.’

It’s not mine either, Courtney replied, handing it back to Singh. Is that it? Can we go now? She stood, clearly impatient to leave. With nothing further to ask them, the detectives let them go back to class.

‘It might not be connected to Steve’s murder at all,’ Forest pointed out. ‘It could have been sitting there for weeks.’

‘I thought it was worth checking, though,’ Singh replied. ‘Courtney was in a hurry to leave, so I’m not sure I believe her.’

When the two girls had been looking at the charm, I was sure that Cassie had looked at Liz before she replied. Maybe she had just been looking for reassurance, but there had been something in that glance that made me suspicious. I kept my thoughts to myself for now, though.

‘We’ll bear it in mind,’ Forest said, then turned towards the door as it opened and Liz Marcek led in a curvy Asian girl. Samira Hassan looked older than fifteen, but that might just have been the attitude radiating from her the moment she saw the detectives. A man, presumably her brother, stood behind her, in a suit and bright white trainers.

‘Is this going to take long?’

‘We’ll be as quick as we can, Mr Hassan, but it’s important we speak to Samira.’

Why do I have to talk to you? I haven’t done anything wrong. Samira folded her arms after signing this statement, and glared at Singh.