You think youād know what a killer sounds like.
That their lies would have a different texture; some barely perceptible shift. A voice that thickens, grows sharp and uneven as the truth slips beneath the jagged edges. Youād think that, wouldnāt you? Everyone thinks theyād know, if it came down to it. But Pip hadnāt.
āItās such a tragedy what happened in the end.ā
Sitting across from him, looking into his kind, crinkled eyes, her phone between them recording every sound and sniff and throat-clearing huff. Sheād believed it all, every word.
Pip traced her fingers across the mousepad, skipping the audio file back again.
āItās such a tragedy what happened in the end.ā
Elliot Wardās voice rang out from the speakers once more, filling her darkened bedroom. Filling her head.
Stop. Click. Repeat.
āItās such a tragedy what happened in the end.ā
Sheād listened to it maybe a hundred times. Maybe even a thousand. And there was nothing, no giveaway, no change as he slipped between lies and half-truths. The man sheād once looked to as an almost-father. But then, Pip had lied too, hadnāt she? And she could tell herself sheād done it to protect the people she loved, but wasnāt that the exact same reason Elliot gave? Pip ignored that voice in her head; the truth was out, most of it, and thatās the thing she clung to.
She kept going, on to the other part that made her hairs stand on end. āAnd do you think Sal killed Andie?ā asked Pipās voice from the past.
ā. . .Ā he was such a lovely kid. But, considering the evidence, I donāt see how he couldnāt have done it. So, as wrong as it feels, I guess I think he
must have. Thereās no other explanationĀ āā Pipās door pushed inward with a slap.
āWhat are you doing?ā interrupted a voice from right now, one that lifted with a smirk because he knew damn well what she was doing.
āYou scared me, Ravi,ā she said, annoyed, darting forward to pause the audio. Ravi didnāt need to hear Elliot Wardās voice, not ever again.
āYouāre sitting here in the dark listening to that, butĀ IāmĀ the scary one?ā Ravi said, flicking on the light switch, the yellow glow reflecting off the dark hair swept across his forehead. He pulled that face, the one that always got her, and Pip smiled because it was impossible not to.
She wheeled back from her desk. āHow did you get in anyway?ā
āYour parents and Josh were on their way out, with a very impressive looking lemon tart.ā
āOh yes,ā she said. āTheyāre on neighbourly welcome duties. A young couple have just moved into the Chensā house down the street. Mum did the deal. The Greens . . . or maybe the Browns, canāt remember.ā
It was strange, thinking of another family living in that house, new lives reshaping to fill its old spaces. Pipās friend Zach Chen had always lived there, four doors down, ever since Pip had moved here aged five. It wasnāt a real goodbye; she still saw Zach at school every day, but his parents had decided they could no longer live in this town, not afterĀ all that trouble. Pip was certain they considered her a large part ofĀ all that trouble.
āDinnerās seven thirty by the way,ā Ravi said, his voice suddenly skipping clumsily over the words. Pip looked at him; he was wearing his nicest shirt tucked in at the front, and . . . were those new shoes? She could smell aftershave too, as he stepped towards her, but he stopped short, didnāt kiss her on the forehead nor run a hand through her hair. Instead he went to sit on her bed, fiddling with his hands.
āMeaning youāre almost two hours early,ā Pip smiled. āY-yeah.ā He coughed.
Why was he being awkward? It was Valentineās Day, their first since knowing each other, and Ravi had booked them a table at The Siren, out of town. Pipās best friend Cara was convinced Ravi was going to ask Pip to be his girlfriend tonight. She said sheād put money on it. The thought made something in Pipās stomach swell, spilling its heat up into her chest. But it might not be that: Valentineās Day was also Salās birthday. Raviās older brother would have turned twenty-four today, if heād made it past eighteen.
āHow far have you got?ā Ravi asked, nodding at her laptop, the audio editing software Audacity filling her screen with spiky blue lines. The whole story was there, contained within those blue lines. From the start of her project to the very end; every lie, every secret. Even some of her own.
āItās done,ā Pip said, dropping her eyes to the new USB microphone plugged into her computer. āIāve finished. Six episodes. I had to use a noise reduction effect on some of the phone interviews for quality, but itās done.ā
And in a green plastic file, beside the microphone, were the release forms sheād sent out to everyone. Signed and returned, granting her permission to publish their interviews in a podcast. Even Elliot Ward had signed one, from his prison cell. Two people had refused: Stanley Forbes from the town newspaper and, of course, Max Hastings. But Pip didnāt need their voices to tell the story; sheād filled in the gaps with her production log entries, now recorded as monologues.
āYouāve finished already?ā Ravi said, though he couldnāt really be surprised. He knew her, maybe better than anyone else.
It had been just a couple of weeks since sheād stood up in the school hall and told everyone what really happened. But the media still werenāt telling the story right; even now they clung to their own angles because they were cleaner, neater. Yet the Andie Bell case had been anything but neat.
āIf you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,ā Pip said, her gaze climbing the spiking audio clips. Right then, she couldnāt decide whether this felt like something beginning or something ending. But she knew which she wanted it to be.
āSo, whatās next?ā asked Ravi.
āI export the episode files, upload them to Soundcloud on schedule, once a week, and then copy the RSS feed to podcast directories like iTunes and Stitcher. But Iām not quite finished,ā she said. āI need to record the intro, over this theme song I found on Audio Jungle. But to record an intro, you need a title.ā
āAh,ā Ravi said, stretching back, āweāre still title-less are we, Lady Fitz- Amobi?ā
āWe are,ā she said. āIāve narrowed it down to three options.ā āHit me,ā he said.
āNo, youāll be mean about them.ā
āNo, I wonāt,ā he said earnestly, with the smallest of smiles.
āOK.ā She looked down at her notes. āOption A is:Ā An Examination into a Miscarriage of Justice. Whaā Ravi, I can see you laughing.ā
āThat was a yawn, I swear.ā
āWell, you wonāt like option B either because thatāsĀ A Study into a Closed Case: The Andie BellĀ ā Ravi, stop!ā
āWhaā Iām sorry, I canāt help it,ā he said, laughing until his eyes lined with tears. āItās just . . . of all your many qualities, Pip, thereās one thing you lack āā
āLack?ā She spun her chair to face him. āIĀ lackĀ something?ā
āYes,ā he said, meeting her attempt at stony eyes. āPizazz. You are almost entirely pizazzless, Pip.ā
āI am not pizazzless.ā
āYou need to draw people in, intrigue them. Have a word like ākillā or ādeadā in there.ā
āBut thatās sensationalism.ā
āAnd thatās exactly what you want, for people to actually listen,ā he said. āBut all of my options are accurate and āā
āBoring?ā
Pip threw a yellow highlighter at him.
āYou need something that rhymes, or alliteration. Something with . . .ā āPizazz?ā she said in her Ravi voice. āYou think of one then.ā
āCrime Time,ā he said. āNo, oh Little Kilton . . . maybeĀ Little Kill Town.ā āEw, no,ā said Pip.
āYouāre right.ā Ravi got up, started to pace. āYour unique selling point is, really, you. A seventeen-year-old who solved a case the police had long considered closed. And what are you?ā he looked at her, squinting his eyes.
āLacking, clearly,ā she said with mock irritation.
āA student,ā Ravi thought aloud. āA girl. Project. Oh, how aboutĀ Project Murder and Me?ā
āNah.ā
āOK . . .ā He chewed his lip and it made Pipās stomach tighten. āSo, something murder, or kill or dead. And you are Pip, whoās a student and a girl whoās good at . . . oh shit,ā he said suddenly, eyes widening. āIāve got it!ā
āWhat?ā she said.
āIāve literally got it,ā he said, far too pleased with himself. āWhat is it?ā āA Good Girlās Guide to Murder.ā
āNoooo.ā Pip shook her head. āThatās bad, way too try- hard.ā āWhat are you talking about? Itās perfect.ā
āGood girl?ā she said, dubiously. āI turn eighteen in two weeks; I wonāt contribute to my own infantilization.ā
āA Good Girlās Guide to Murder,ā Ravi said in his deep, movie-trailer voice, pulling Pip up from her chair and spinning her towards him.
āNo,ā she said.
āYes,ā he retorted, placing one hand on her waist, his warm fingers dancing up her ribs.
āAbsolutely not.ā
If you havenāt yet listened to episode 6 ofĀ A Good Girlās Guide to Murder, look away now. Serious spoilers below.
Of course, many of us knew how this mystery ended, from when it exploded on to the news cycles last November, but the whodunnit wasnāt the whole story here. The real story ofĀ A Good Girlās Guide to MurderĀ has been the journey, from a 17-year-old sleuthās hunch about a closed case ā
the murder of teenager Andie Bell, allegedly by her boyfriend Sal Singh ā to the spiralling web of dark secrets she uncovers in her small town. The ever-shifting suspects, the lies and the twists.
The final episode certainly isnāt lacking in twists as it brings us the truth, starting with Pipās shocking revelation that Elliot Ward, her best friendās father, wrote the threatening notes Pip received during her investigation. Irrefutable proof of his involvement and truly a āloss of innocenceā moment for Pip. She and Ravi Singh ā Salās younger brother and co-detective on this case ā believed that Andie Bell might still be alive and Elliot had been keeping her the whole time. Pip confronted Elliot Ward alone and, recounting Wardās words, the whole story unravels. An illicit relationship between student and teacher, allegedly initiated by Andie. āIf true,ā Pip theorizes, āI think Andie wanted an escape from Little Kilton, particularly from her father who allegedly, according to a source, was controlling and emotionally abusive. Perhaps Andie believed Mr Ward could get her a place at Oxford, like Sal, so she could get far away from home.ā
The night of her disappearance, Andie went to Elliot Wardās house. An argument ensued. Andie tripped, hitting her head against his desk. But as Ward rushed to get a first aid kit, Andie disappeared into the night. In the following days as Andie was officially declared missing, Elliot Ward panicked, believing Andie must have died from her head injury and when police eventually found her body, there might be evidence that would lead back to him. His only chance was to give them a more convincing suspect. āHe cried as he told me,ā Pip says, āhow he killed Sal Singh.ā Ward made it look like suicide and planted evidence so police would think Sal killed his girlfriend and then himself.
But, months later, Ward was shocked to see Andie walking on the side of the road, thin and dishevelled. She hadnāt died after all. Ward couldnāt allow her to return to Little Kilton, and thatās how she ended up his prisoner for five years. However, in a twist truly stranger than fiction: the person in Wardās loft wasnāt Andie Bell. āShe looked so much like her,ā Pip claims, āshe even told me sheĀ wasĀ Andie.ā But she was actually Isla Jordan, a vulnerable young woman with an intellectual disability. All this time, Elliot had convinced himself ā and Isla ā that sheĀ wasĀ Andie Bell.
This left the final question of what happened to theĀ realĀ Andie Bell? Our young detective beat the police to that too. āIt was Becca Bell, Andieās little sister.ā Pip worked out that Becca had been sexually assaulted at a house party (nicknamed calamity parties), and that Andie had sold drugs at these parties, including Rohypnol which Becca suspected played a part in her assault. When Andie was outĀ that nightĀ with Ward, Becca allegedly found proof in her sisterās room that Max Hastings had bought Rohypnol from Andie and was likely Beccaās attacker (Max will soon face trial for several rape and sexual assault charges). But when Andie returned, she didnāt react in the way Becca hoped; Andie forbade her little sister from going to the police because it would get her in trouble. They started arguing, pushing, until Andie ended up on the floor, unconscious and vomiting. Andieās post- mortem ā completed last November when her body was finally recovered ā showed that āAndieās brain swelling from a head trauma was not fatal. Though it, no doubt, caused Andieās loss of consciousness and vomiting, Andie Bell died from asphyxiation, choking on her own vomit.ā Becca froze, allegedly watching Andie die, too shocked, too angry to save her sisterās life. Hiding her body because she was scared no one would believe it was an accident.
And there it is, our ending. āNo angles or filters, just the sad truth of how Andie Bell died, how Sal was murdered and set up as her killer and everyone believed it.ā In Pipās scathing conclusion, she picks out everyone she finds at fault for the deaths of these two teenagers, naming and blaming: Elliot Ward, Max Hastings, Jason Bell (Andieās father), Becca Bell, Howard Bowers (Andieās drug dealer), and Andie Bell herself.
A Good Girlās Guide to MurderĀ stormed to the top of the iTunes chart with its first episode six weeks ago and it looks set to stay there for some time. With the final episode released last night, listeners are already clamouring for a season two of the hit podcast. But in a statement posted to her website, Pip said: āIām afraid my detective days are over and there will not be a second season ofĀ AGGGTM. This case almost consumed me; I could only see that once I was out the other side. It became an unhealthy obsession, putting me and those around me in considerable danger. But I will finishĀ thisĀ story, recording updates on the trials and verdicts of all those involved. I promise I will be here until the very last word.ā