A Day in the Life of Louis Bloom by Paul Charles

Author:Paul Charles [Charles, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery & Crime
ISBN: 9780802360335
Publisher: Dufour Editions
Published: 2018-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

McCusker and O’Carroll arrived at Louis Bloom’s office just in time for the 15.00 appointment with Miles Bloom.

The look on Leab David’s face betrayed the fact that the Vice-Chancellor had already tipped her off that he’d told the detectives that, whereas Leab might just have been “washing her hair” on the night in question, but even if she had, she had been washing it in the company of the Vice-Chancellor.

As Miles Bloom was already waiting – Leab, it transpired, had already refused to allow him to enter Louis’ actual office until the members of the PSNI were present – they didn’t have time for a discussion with her.

Miles seemed to have calmed down since their last meeting; equally, he did not appear to be a brother grieving over his younger sibling.

McCusker took stock of Miles as O’Carroll directed the witness where to sit, successfully steering him away from his preference behind Louis’ desk.

Miles Bloom carried himself with his head back and his chin forward, much the same as a boxer who did not suffer from a glass jaw. If you wanted to be unkind, McCusker thought, you could say he was continuously looking down his nose at the world. His grey-silver goatee defined the line of his jaw rather than his actual jaw defining the line of his jaw. He was dressed in matching blue denim shirt, with mother-of-pearl snap-buttons, and jeans. His shirt was out over his jeans and under the shirt he wore a black T-shirt. His American-flavoured outfit was completed with a pair of expensive-looking moccasins. He’d a full head of silver-white hair, and the parting, if there had been one in the morning, had been lost to the autumn winds and his earlier hissy fit up at his brother’s house. He frequently swept his right hand – fingers first, from forehead to crown – through his hair. He had a habit of announcing this movement by hiking his shoulders slightly, as if he was lowering his head to accommodate the passage of his hand. McCusker figured that Miles Bloom had recently had a drastic haircut in that he was forever fiddling with phantom hair on his left shoulder. His silver stubbled face looked like it might be two stages this side of puffy.

‘Do I need a lawyer?’

‘We just want to ask you a few questions, Miles, but if you feel you’d like a solicitor present you’re most certainly entitled to one.’

‘I know my rights,’ he snapped.

McCusker and O’Carroll just looked at each other with an “Okay, here we go then” look.

‘What football team do you support Miles?’ McCusker started, throwing in his own curve ball.

‘What? What the eff?’ Miles started, and immediately went into a rant that made Gordon Ramsey sound like a choirboy. ‘Let me tell you something: I don’t have time to sit here with you discussing effing football teams. Let me tell you something: I am a very busy person. Do you realise I have four – that’s one, two, three, four

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