5

Tea drunk and students slagged off, Jessica double-checked the address with Izzy at the station and then headed half a mile down the road to a bright red-bricked student accommodation block. When Jessica’s friend Caroline had been a student in Manchester, it was all rundown houses covered in blankets and bean bags, reeking of stale cigarette smoke and spilled alcohol; now it was custom-built flats and studio apartments, with free WiFi and coffee shops on the ground floor. Archie’s ‘tsk’ as they rang the buzzer made his feelings clear too.

Damon’s roommate, Alistair, buzzed the door open and then met both officers on the stairs. He took two or three steps at a time, his gangly legs getting him to the third floor just as Jessica was rounding the corner from the second. As he waited in the doorway of a flat, she could see the blankness in his face. He was tall and thin but appeared cowed, having discovered Damon’s fate. He pushed open the unlocked front door and let both officers in without a word, leading them into a living room that had two leather sofas, a large flatscreen television fixed to the wall, a games console on the floor and any number of other expensive-looking electrical devices at intervals around the room.

Jessica and Archie sat next to each other, with Alistair slumped on the other sofa, elbows on knees, staring at the floor. ‘When the police came round last night, I thought they were joking,’ he said. ‘Well, not joking, but you know what I mean. I couldn’t take it in.’

‘When did you first meet Damon?’ Jessica asked.

‘September. These are private halls – they do anywhere between two and five people per flat, then you share a kitchen, living room and bathroom.’

‘But this flat was just you and Damon?’

‘Yes, you pay an extra tenner a week but you get more space, so it’s worth it. The company who owns this place puts lads with lads and girls with girls, unless you’re moving in with people you know. There’s this complicated form. I ended up with Damon but we didn’t know each other before that.’

‘Did you get on?’

Alistair looked up from the floor, glancing between Jessica and Archie. ‘Pretty much from the moment we met. Do you know his dad?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you know he’s got a few quid, then – except you’d never know by being around him. I didn’t find out until we’d been hanging out for a couple of weeks, then we were at a pub and a girl from his course was there. She made some remark about it and he ended up telling me that his dad ran a company and so on. Apparently he was ready to go away and start a business when his course was over.’

‘Was he happy about that?’

Alistair seemed surprised: ‘Why wouldn’t he be?’

‘Some people don’t like the feeling that their life is already mapped out. They want the freedom to make their own choices.’

‘If he was unhappy then he never said. He was only in year one but was already talking about how the final project for year three was to create a viable business plan. He had a few ideas because that’s what he wanted to go and do afterwards.’

‘Were you his best friend at university?’

Alistair shrugged. ‘Dunno. He hung around with a few lads from his course, and liked going rowing, of course.’

Jessica had been waiting for Alistair to steer the conversation round to the rowing club so that it felt more like a natural topic of conversation. ‘How often did he go?’

‘Three or four times a week, depending on the weather. He tried to get me into it but it’s not my thing.’ He sighed, pursing his lips. ‘To be honest, I’m not sure it was his either. He liked the competitive thing and said he was decent at it – but he would never have put it before his course.’

‘Do you know any of the people at the club he was friends with?’

‘No, I think it was more of a social thing for some of them but he actually wanted to race. That was pretty much the only thing he ever said about it. He was always exhausted when he got back from practice – we’d sit in front of the TV and have a drink.’

‘Was he a big beer drinker?’

Alistair shook his head. ‘Not really.’ Jessica raised her eyebrows but he didn’t wilt. ‘Well, sometimes we’d go out and have a few but it was never ridiculous. Beer wasn’t his thing anyway. He might have a cider but was more into spirits.’

‘Drugs?’

The reply was instant: ‘No.’

‘There were substances in his system when his body was found . . .’

Alistair gulped, peering between her and Archie, weighing them up: ‘Okay, we sometimes do a little bit of weed, but it’s less harmful than cigarettes, isn’t it? It’s only the odd rollie now and again, I’m not a druggie – neither was he if that’s what you’re asking.’

Jessica waited, wondering if there was anything else. When Alistair didn’t reply, she added: ‘Ever done anything harder?’

‘No – honestly.’

‘What about Damon?’

‘No . . . well, I don’t think so. If he has, he never said and we never did anything like that together. He was into his studies – we only had the odd joint to relax at the end of the day. I don’t think he would’ve wanted to do anything that would risk his place on the course.’ Alistair peered down at the floor again. ‘I’m not in trouble, am I? It’s only a bit of weed.’

He sounded more pathetic than aggressive.

‘Where does the cannabis come from?’

‘Er . . .’

‘I’m asking because if someone was dealing drugs to Damon then he could’ve been into something more serious than you knew. If you tell the truth, you won’t be in trouble.’

Alistair’s head popped back up again, eyes showing slightly more clarity after being told he wasn’t about to get nicked. ‘It’s someone I know, he’s, er, some lad—’

‘All right,’ Jessica interrupted, ‘let’s not go digging any holes. If you can assure me it’s just some small-time arrangement between you and a mate, we’ll pretend this part of the conversation didn’t happen.’

‘It is.’

‘Fine.’

The truth was, Jessica didn’t have the time, manpower or inclination to pick up some small-time campus cannabis dealer when he’d be back out in twenty-four hours, fresh with an eighty-five-quid fine and a criminal record that would likely get him kicked out of university.

‘Did Damon have any enemies?’ Jessica asked. ‘Anyone he’d fallen out with?’

A shake of the head.

‘Girlfriend?’

‘Not as such.’

‘And what’s he been like this past week or so?’

‘Fine, if anything, he’s been happier. He was getting up earlier to go rowing.’

Call Me Bob had said something similar.

‘Any idea what he was happy about?’

Another shake of the head. ‘No idea. We’d have a drink and go out now and then but we didn’t really talk about too much . . . y’know . . . girly stuff.’

Jessica had to stop her eyes rolling – presumably that meant relationships. She glanced sideways towards Archie, who almost imperceptibly raised an eyebrow. In an instant, it was gone again and Jessica knew what he meant, as if she had read his mind.

‘I need the toilet, then I’ll brew up,’ Jessica said, getting to her feet.

‘Tea bags are—’

‘Yeah, under the sink, over the sink, in a cupboard somewhere. I’ll find them. Be right back.’

Archie had wanted a few minutes alone with Alistair. Although the student didn’t seem the blokey type, sometimes men were happier talking to other men. Archie would turn on the lad-about-town charm, bang on about a few of the better clubs and pubs in the centre, and then see if he could get some real information out of Alistair. Meanwhile, Jessica went for a poke-around.

She went through the kitchen into the hallway, leaving herself three doors to choose from. After finding the toilet at the first attempt, Jessica closed the door quietly and moved on to the next one.