‘Why haven’t I heard that name before? Who is he?’

‘We saw him talking to Caitlin Watts in one of the social media images and I recognised him. I remembered that he was brought in when I was on the desk with Denise on Valentine’s Day. Gary looked into him a little and he could well be a part of whatever this is. He was in Helen Lassiter’s class. We thought we should question him, see if he’s involved.’

‘OK then. Let me know what happens. Adrian, I think you should take the lead on this interrogation as you have some history with the boy.’

‘Hardly.’

‘Still, it makes more sense.’

‘Fine, if you say so.’

‘I’ll stay in here and observe you both. No pressure. See if you can find out if he knows Russ Beacham and if he does know him, see if he knows where he is. We don’t have enough for a warrant yet. Everything we have on Beacham is circumstantial. And the only thing we have that connects this boy to this case is a photo of him talking to Caitlin? Knowing what she looked like, I expect there are plenty of pictures of her talking to plenty of guys or at least guys trying to talk to her. That’s really not enough.’

‘OK, I’ll see if I can dig deeper,’ Adrian said.

Adrian opened door and left the room, Imogen following closely behind. The DCI stayed.

There was something strangely innocent about Finn. Adrian found it hard to believe he could have murdered Hugh Norris; at the very least he didn’t seem to have the physical power it would have taken to smash his face in in that way. Adrian wasn’t one hundred per cent sure that Finn wasn’t the person who had attacked him on the night of Caitlin’s alleged assault though. It could have been him, but all he could really remember were the attacker’s eyes. Blue eyes, the most common eye colour in Britain, displayed by almost half the population in the South of England, higher the further north you went. It was hardly a lead. Maybe Finn was just a really good actor. One thing was certain, though: whatever he knew, they would find out.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Adrian crossed his arms and leaned on the table. Finn fidgeted nervously in front of him and his eyes darted around the room. Adrian could feel the heat of Imogen’s body next to him; he could feel her concentration and knew that her stare was making Finn uncomfortable. She was good at that.

‘Why am I here?’ Finn asked.

‘I think you know why you’re here, Finn. Do you remember me at all? We met on Valentine’s Day.’

‘Look, this is a mistake. I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but I haven’t done it.’

‘Caitlin Watts? What do you know about her?’

‘I heard that she died, that she killed herself. I didn’t really know her though.’

‘How did you hear that? It’s not common knowledge yet. Who told you?’