picked up the chair and swung. So brave, so determined to stay alive.
He grimaced as he remembered the big weal on his arm where the leg of the chair had made contact. He had only allowed her one swing. Then he had wrenched the chair from her grasp.
She looked stunned when I hit her with it and she finally shut up. I hit her hard. I drew blood. It sprayed and some of it hit me on the face. I never knew I would actually like the feel of it … the taste of it. The second blow put her on the ground. The chair broke when I hit her for the third time. But it didn’t matter. I could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t going to struggle any more. She was out.
So I went down to the car and brought up the crusher. I fixed myself a cup of tea and waited for her to wake up.
That was when the fun began.
25
Wednesday, noon
When they returned to the station the place was quiet. Jake understood why. He could see through the blinds into the colonel’s office. Harper was there, his head in his hands as sobs racked his body. There was something unnerving about such naked, unselfconscious displays of grief, and Jake wished there was some other way to take the investigation.
Harper was still wearing his black overcoat, and there was an untouched coffee in front of him. No steam wafted from the surface. It had been there a while. The colonel was sitting silently behind his desk. When he spotted Jake and Mills he stood up and came out.
‘She was killed in the house?’ he asked.
Jake nodded once in the affirmative, then aimed a second nod at Harper. ‘How’s he holding up?’
How would I hold up if it was Leigh?
From somewhere in the room a tinny blast of Christmas music made everyone jump. Jake saw one of the admin staff fumbling for her mobile phone and switching it to silent; he knew she’d curse her choice of ringtone until well after New Year’s.
Asher glared at the unlucky soul for a long second, then turned back to Jake. ‘He’s devastated. But he was capable of focusing when I asked him a few questions. I’ll type up a report as soon as he’s out of here.’
‘I really need to talk to him myself,’ said Jake.
The colonel looked at him. ‘I suppose you do. At least don’t march him down to the interview room. Keep it gentle.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Jake and Mills walked into the office. Jake sat in the colonel’s chair. He saw Mills’s look of annoyance as he took one of the canteen chairs still there from the morning meeting. Harper seemed smaller, barely filling his expensive suit. His reddened eyes seemed to burn within his pale face.
This was difficult. Yesterday Jake had begun the interview with Sonny fairly certain that he was a viable suspect. So they had gone in hard. Today he didn’t figure Harper for a double killer, and he trusted his instincts. So he was going to be a lot softer, more sympathetic.
He leaned forward on the desk. ‘Councilman?’ Harper looked up, his eyes watery. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
‘Call me Mitch.’ His hand reached out instinctively – a politician to the core – but his grip was limp, weak. He was going through the motions, on autopilot.
‘I’m sorry to do this, Mitch. I know it’s a bad time, but I have to ask you some questions. Anything you can tell me and Detective Mills now could help catch your wife’s killer. We need to catch him fast, before he does this again.’
‘I understand.’
‘We’ll start at the beginning, and I’m sorry if we repeat questions you’ve already been asked. We just have to get everything clear. Did you know of anyone who might wish your wife harm? Enemies, people she fought with, anyone like that?’
Harper’s face registered surprise. ‘She was such a warm, giving person. Everyone loved her.’
Jake saw a flicker cross Mills’s face, but he said nothing.
‘When did you last see your wife?’
‘I had dinner with her last night, then we watched some TV. That English thing about King Henry. She … loved
He grimaced as he remembered the big weal on his arm where the leg of the chair had made contact. He had only allowed her one swing. Then he had wrenched the chair from her grasp.
She looked stunned when I hit her with it and she finally shut up. I hit her hard. I drew blood. It sprayed and some of it hit me on the face. I never knew I would actually like the feel of it … the taste of it. The second blow put her on the ground. The chair broke when I hit her for the third time. But it didn’t matter. I could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t going to struggle any more. She was out.
So I went down to the car and brought up the crusher. I fixed myself a cup of tea and waited for her to wake up.
That was when the fun began.
25
Wednesday, noon
When they returned to the station the place was quiet. Jake understood why. He could see through the blinds into the colonel’s office. Harper was there, his head in his hands as sobs racked his body. There was something unnerving about such naked, unselfconscious displays of grief, and Jake wished there was some other way to take the investigation.
Harper was still wearing his black overcoat, and there was an untouched coffee in front of him. No steam wafted from the surface. It had been there a while. The colonel was sitting silently behind his desk. When he spotted Jake and Mills he stood up and came out.
‘She was killed in the house?’ he asked.
Jake nodded once in the affirmative, then aimed a second nod at Harper. ‘How’s he holding up?’
How would I hold up if it was Leigh?
From somewhere in the room a tinny blast of Christmas music made everyone jump. Jake saw one of the admin staff fumbling for her mobile phone and switching it to silent; he knew she’d curse her choice of ringtone until well after New Year’s.
Asher glared at the unlucky soul for a long second, then turned back to Jake. ‘He’s devastated. But he was capable of focusing when I asked him a few questions. I’ll type up a report as soon as he’s out of here.’
‘I really need to talk to him myself,’ said Jake.
The colonel looked at him. ‘I suppose you do. At least don’t march him down to the interview room. Keep it gentle.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Jake and Mills walked into the office. Jake sat in the colonel’s chair. He saw Mills’s look of annoyance as he took one of the canteen chairs still there from the morning meeting. Harper seemed smaller, barely filling his expensive suit. His reddened eyes seemed to burn within his pale face.
This was difficult. Yesterday Jake had begun the interview with Sonny fairly certain that he was a viable suspect. So they had gone in hard. Today he didn’t figure Harper for a double killer, and he trusted his instincts. So he was going to be a lot softer, more sympathetic.
He leaned forward on the desk. ‘Councilman?’ Harper looked up, his eyes watery. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
‘Call me Mitch.’ His hand reached out instinctively – a politician to the core – but his grip was limp, weak. He was going through the motions, on autopilot.
‘I’m sorry to do this, Mitch. I know it’s a bad time, but I have to ask you some questions. Anything you can tell me and Detective Mills now could help catch your wife’s killer. We need to catch him fast, before he does this again.’
‘I understand.’
‘We’ll start at the beginning, and I’m sorry if we repeat questions you’ve already been asked. We just have to get everything clear. Did you know of anyone who might wish your wife harm? Enemies, people she fought with, anyone like that?’
Harper’s face registered surprise. ‘She was such a warm, giving person. Everyone loved her.’
Jake saw a flicker cross Mills’s face, but he said nothing.
‘When did you last see your wife?’
‘I had dinner with her last night, then we watched some TV. That English thing about King Henry. She … loved
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