stopped. I thought it was weird, because those bloody flats, they’ve got walls like paper, and the only time that building goes silent is in the middle of the night when everyone’s finally asleep. I thought to myself, ‘Maybe they’re on holiday.’ But they hadn’t mentioned anything about going away, and Gail often talked about being short of money.
HEALY : When was the last time you heard them?
WESTERWOOD : Sunday, maybe Monday.
HEALY : Today’s Friday 16 July. So you stopped hearing from them on Sunday 11 July or Monday 12 July, correct?
WESTERWOOD : Yeah.
HEALY : When we spoke at your flat yesterday, you said you’d been around to see Gail on Saturday 10 July.
WESTERWOOD : Right. I ran out of sugar. I wanted a cup of tea but the elevator was bust, and I didn’t want to have to walk down seventeen flights of stairs, and then half a mile to the bloody Co-op. So I asked Gail if she could spare some.
HEALY : She seemed okay?
WESTERWOOD : She seemed fine. I could see the girls from the door, watching TV. Gail and me, we spoke for a while.
HEALY : About what?
WESTERWOOD : I don’t know. The weather or whatever. But she was fine. Laughing and smiling, you know?
HEALY : That was the last time you saw her?
WESTERWOOD : Last time. Everything went quiet after that. I went round to check on them on Tuesday, cos I thought that would be the right thing to do, and there was no answer. I tried again Wednesday morning, and then Wednesday evening. Yesterday was when I called you lot.
I looked up at Healy, unsure exactly of how this was relevant. It filled out some of the background, particularly with regard to how the police ended up at Searle House in the first place, but there was no mention of the man the family had been seen with in the months before their deaths; the man Healy had talked about at the press conference in the days after, and had told me was called ‘Mal’.
As if reading my mind, he moved forward a couple ofpages in the interview transcript, then tapped a line halfway down. ‘Once we got confirmation that the family were killed on Sunday 11 July,’ he said, ‘rather than on the Monday, we started zeroing in on what she said to us here.’
WESTERWOOD : I simply can’t imagine who would want to do that to them. I mean, they were such a lovely family. Do you think it might have been her boyfriend?
HEALY : Boyfriend?
WESTERWOOD : Oh, I thought she was dating someone.
HEALY : Did she say she was?
WESTERWOOD : No. I just saw her and the girls with a man in the months before they were killed, so I guessed he was … you know … someone she was seeing.
HEALY : Where did you see him?
WESTERWOOD : There’s a play park and a football pitch on one side of Searle House. The park’s got some swings, a climbing frame, some slides, that sort of thing. I definitely remember seeing him there with the girls a few times.
HEALY : How many times?
WESTERWOOD : Oh, quite a few.
HEALY : When was the first time, do you remember?
WESTERWOOD : I guess it must have been about February, because my sister’s birthday is the twentieth, and I remember heading down to the Tube at New Cross Gate to go and see her, and they were all out there. I thought to myself that it would be nice if Gail could find someone.
HEALY : So Gail and this guy could have been dating from February, all the way through to July? That’s five months.
WESTERWOOD : Yes.
HEALY : Did she tell you his name?
WESTERWOOD : No, but …
HEALY : What?
WESTERWOOD : I remember hearing the girls one day, when they were outside playing with him, and they called him something. I think it was ‘Mal’.
HEALY : As in Malcolm?
WESTERWOOD : Yeah, I think so.
HEALY : When else did you see the family with him?
WESTERWOOD : Oh, I don’t know. Um … lots of times, but generally when they were all at the park.
HEALY : You ever get up close to him?
WESTERWOOD : No.
HEALY : So you didn’t ever speak to him?
WESTERWOOD : No. But I often wondered whether he might have been some