The Perfect Girl by Gilly Macmillan Read Free Book Online Page A

was well over the limit. She must have consumed a great deal of alcohol to be that drunk, even given her small size.
    ‘Three passengers in the car,’ he continued, deadpan, though it was tough stuff to read out, even if you’re a professional. ‘Front passenger dead at the scene, rear left-side passenger dead at the scene, rear right-side passenger transferred to Barnstaple Hospital.’
    He caught the question in my gaze but shook his head.
    ‘Died half an hour ago. Massive bleed to the brain. Family agreed to turn her off.’
    ‘Christ.’
    ‘I’ve seen some scenes, but this was really bad. And there was music pumping from the car, you could hear it on approach, made for a strange scene, spooky.’
    I imagined the black night, starlight above, headlights parked at a crazy angle, a steaming engine, crumpled bodywork, shattered glass and the stereo still blasting out a loud driving tune to the broken bodies inside, only two out of the four of them producing wisps of misty breath in the cold darkness.
    ‘She consented to a blood test at the hospital,’ he continued. ‘Confirmed she was well over the limit.’
    ‘Zoe consented?’
    ‘And the doctor.’
    I might have had something to work with if Zoe alone had consented to a blood test, because of her age. It was another situation where she had to have an ‘appropriate adult’ advising her. I was pretty sure the police had this one taped, but made a note that it was something to check.
    ‘Road traffic report?’
    ‘Ordered.’
    ‘How long for that?’
    ‘As quick as we can make it – end of the week probably.’
    At this early stage in proceedings, part of my job was to be sure that the police had the evidence they needed to prove all the elements of the offence that the prosecution would present at court. We would need all the test results and paperwork in before I could make a proper judgement on that, but the heaviness in his voice and the apparently rigid adherence to protocol told me that as far as this area of the investigation was concerned, things weren’t looking good for Zoe. If I was going to find a defence for her, I suspected it was unlikely it would lie in the procedural detail, or the facts of the accident or the quality of her treatment afterwards, because, so far, the police appeared to have done everything by the book.
    ‘You’re going to have to bail her. You can’t keep her in, she’s too young.’
    I wondered if he was going to argue this, because of the severity of what Zoe had done, but he didn’t.
    ‘We’re probably happy with that, subject to conditions of course.’
    ‘Good. We can discuss conditions. So you’re charging her with “Death by careless driving whilst under the influence”.’
    ‘Sorry,’ he said, but he meant ‘Yes.’
    We stood. Our chairs didn’t move because they were bolted to the floor. A firm handshake and he said, ‘It’s a bad one this. It’s a shame. She’s just a kid.’
    I nodded. I agreed with him, but I wondered whether the families of the children who died would feel that way.
    Before I left the room, I said, ‘Does she know? About the fatalities?’
    ‘She knows about the first two, but not about the girl who died at the hospital. Sorry.’
    That word again.

SUNDAY NIGHT
     
    After the Concert
     
     
ZOE
     
    I shut the panop app and my hands are shaking, because this is what used to happen, when it all began.
    In rehabilitation sessions at the Unit, Jason, my key worker, liked to stress this, and liked to make me go over and over it until he’d satisfied himself that I understood:
    ‘What must you avoid, Zoe, when you leave here?’
    ‘Social media.’
    ‘And which social media in particular?’
    ‘All of it.’
    ‘And especially?’
    ‘Well, that question doesn’t make sense if we’ve already agreed that I’m avoiding all of it.’
    ‘Humour me.’
    ‘ Panop .’
    ‘Well done.’
    ‘Can I have a gold star?’
    ‘Don’t be cheeky.’
    Jason was, basically, mostly