Uprising by Scott G. Mariani Page B

the house next door, keeping her eyes averted from the place as though it would turn her stomach to look at it directly. ‘The police have already been here once today. Is Kate in trouble?’
    ‘None whatsoever. I just want to ask her a couple of questions.’
    ‘Oh, very well.’ She ushered him inside the hall and made a big show of getting him to leave his helmet by the door. The house smelled of new carpets and air freshener. Gillian Hawthorne called up the stairs, ‘Ka-ate!’
    No reply.
    ‘She’s been in bed.’
    ‘Is she not well?’
    ‘She’s just a little off-colour. Do you really need to talk to her now?’
    ‘It’s quite important,’ he replied.
    ‘I suppose you’d better come up, then.’
    Gillian Hawthorne led the way up the stairs and stopped at a door.
    ‘Kate, dear?’ She turned the handle and Joel followed her inside. The room was dark. Gillian turned on a side light, and there was a groan from the bed. Joel could see the girl’s red hair sticking out from under the duvet. He looked around. The bedroom was just like any teenage girl’s room. Posters on the walls, TV, computer, a desk covered in magazines, hairbrush, iPod, makeup, mobile. The only odd detail he noticed was the way the floor-length curtains at the far end of the room had been tightly closed together with safety pins. He crossed the room and peered behind them. A French window led out onto a little balcony overlooking the back garden.
    ‘Kate, this gentleman is from the police and he’s come to talk to you about Declan.’ She spat that last word out with disgust.
    Joel pulled up a chair. He smiled at the girl as she sat up in bed with a resentful scowl. Her hair was tousled. Her face was pallid, almost white.
    ‘Detective Inspector Solomon. Actually, Kate, it’s you I wanted to talk about.’
    ‘What for?’
    ‘I’ve been speaking to Dec Maddon about reported incidents last night at a party that he says you and he both attended. I was wondering what you could tell me about it.’
    ‘He’s a bloody liar,’ Gillian Hawthorne cut in irritably. ‘We’ve already been over and over this with you people. I mean, is there nobody in Thames Valley Police who can understand plain English?’
    ‘Please, Mrs Hawthorne.’ Joel turned back to Kate and spoke softly. ‘I’d appreciate it if we could go through it again. Just one more time, okay?’
    Kate grimaced. ‘I don’t know what Dec was on about. I came straight home. I didn’t go to any party.’ She said it very carefully, as if she was reciting prepared lines.
    ‘You’re sure?’
    She nodded.
    ‘How did you get home?’
    ‘I took a taxi.’
    ‘What time?’
    ‘I don’t remember,’ she groaned. ‘It was late.’
    ‘Where did you take the taxi from?’
    ‘Somewhere. I was walking.’
    ‘So you called the cab company on your phone?’
    ‘Yes. No.’
    ‘Which is it?’
    ‘My head’s hurting.’
    ‘Why are you asking her all this?’ Gillian said.
    ‘I’m just trying to understand what happened,’ Joel replied, keeping his tone gentle.
    Gillian gave a snort. ‘What happened is that nothing happened.’
    ‘I called them,’ Kate said. ‘I remember now.’
    ‘That’s good. I can make enquiries and find out the name of the taxi firm,’ he said, watching her face. ‘That way I can find out where they picked you up from.’
    She flushed at his words. ‘Oh…hang on. No. I thumbed a lift.’
    The bluff had worked. ‘So you didn’t take a taxi after all.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Who gave you a lift?’
    ‘I don’t know. A man.’
    ‘What happened to your neck?’ he asked. ‘Did someone hurt you?’
    Kate immediately covered her neck with the collar of her pyjama top. Something flashed in her eyes. Not a look of embarrassment, the way a self-conscious teenager might have reacted. It was a flash of hard white anger, animal rage.
    ‘I fell,’ she said in a strange voice.
    ‘It looks like a bite.’
    ‘I’m telling you that I fell. Against a barbed