DEAD AIR (Henry & Sparrow Book 2) by A D FOX

Author:A D FOX [FOX, A D]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SPARTILLUS
Published: 2021-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

19

‘He’s good for it,’ said Michaels, standing at the window of CID and watching Finley walk out across the lamplit car park with his mum.

‘Hmmm,’ said Kate, gathering her jacket and bag.

‘He couldn’t look either of us in the eye when he talked about Dave Perry. Did you see that?’

‘I’d say he’s on the autistic spectrum,’ said Conrad Temple, who had observed the interview through a two-way mirror. He gathered his own coat and bag a couple of desks away. ‘You can’t read too much into that eye contact thing.’

Michaels snorted. ‘Yeah… well, that’s what everyone says, isn’t it, when they’re being weird? Oh… I’m on the spectrum… I can’t help myself. It’s a great get-out. No - it’s him. We should have kept him in.’

Kate yawned, too tired to manage Michaels and his narrow world view. ‘We didn’t have enough on him,’ she said. ‘You know that. Stop being a twat and go home. We’ve got another early start. Team briefing and press strategy at six-thirty.’

Finley had readily admitted to going up on the roof of the radio station. He’d described the transmitter in great detail, proud to have been able to see it, on a recent tour, with half a dozen other listeners. He hadn’t, he said, been in the station earlier that day. He had come to the front steps and left some flowers when he heard the news about Dave Perry (even though Perry had been unpleasant about him) but he didn’t have time to wait in the queue for the book of condolence - he had errands to do for his mum.

Kate, on a fresh tack, had asked him what he thought about Sheila Bartley.

‘She’s a regional radio treasure,’ he said, clearly reciting from her biog on the BBC Radio Wessex website ‘She’s worked there for 43 years. She’s got a cat called Dinky and her daughter lives in Australia. She likes Cherry Bakewells.’

Michaels had been ready to spring her death on their interviewee, but she’d wound up the interview before he could. She couldn’t see the sense in it - not yet. Once it was out there, maybe. Tomorrow. Kapoor was working through the media strategy with Lucy, their press liaison officer, right now.

‘You wait and see if I’m not right,’ Michaels was muttering now, watching their suspect amble back across the front car park and around the corner.

‘You’re tired, Ben,’ she said. ‘Go home.’

He stomped off, giving Temple a baleful look.

‘What do you think?’ Kate asked the crim psych.

‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘Not convinced but… I wouldn’t rule him out either. Is anyone going to collect all the offerings on the steps? And the book of condolence? Our guy is probably lapping up all the drama - he might have brought flowers today, or signed that book. I’d like to get a graphologist to take a look at all the handwriting in the book and on the cards.’

Kate nodded. ‘Good thinking. The manager is going to camp out at the station all night, apparently.

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