He’d been in there for twenty minutes alone, dourly contemplating this ludicrous situation, before the door opened and Jodie Dobson came in.
“About time,” he barked at her. “Can I go now?”
She gave him a sober look. “No, Richard. This isn’t some case of mistaken identity. I’ve been talking to Detective Patterson, and they really do think you had something to do with Byrne Tyler’s murder.”
“That’s insane! I’ve never even met him.”
“I know, and I’m sure we can clear it up with a simple interview.”
“I want that Patterson cow sued for doing this to me. They tipped off the news team. I’ll have my face plastered all over the media. Do you know what kind of damage that’ll do to me? Business is about trust, credibility. I can’t believe this! She’s ruined five years’ hard work in five minutes. It was deliberate and malicious.”
“It’s not that bad. Listen, the quicker you’re out and cleared, the quicker we can instigate damage limitation.”
“I want her to make a public apology, starting with that news crew that was outside my bloody house.”
“We can probably get that. But you’ll need to cooperate. Fully.”
“Fine, bring them on!” He caught the tone in her voice. “What do you mean?”
“They’ve brought in some kind of specialist they want to sit in on your interview. Greg Mandel, he’s a gland psychic.”
Richard hoped his flinch wasn’t too visible. There were stories about gland psychics. Nothing a rational adult need concern themselves about, of course. Human psi ability was a strictly scientific field these days, quantified and researched. A bioware endocrine gland implanted in the brain released specific neurohormones to stimulate the ability. But…“Why do they want him to interview me?”
“Helpinterview you,” Jodie stressed. “Apparently his speciality is sensing emotional states. In other words he’ll know if you’re lying.”
“So if I just say that I didn’t kill this Byrne Tyler, Mandel will know I’m being truthful?”
“That’s the way it works.”
“Okay. But I still want Patterson nailed afterward.”
Richard gave Mandel a close look when he entered the interview room. Approaching middle age, but obviously in shape. The man’s movements were very…precise moving the chairjust so to sit on rather than casually pulling it out from the desk as most people would Richard supposed it was like a measure of confidence and Mandel seemed very self-assured. It was an attitude very similar to Alan O’Hagen’s.
Amanda Patterson seated herself beside Mandel, and slotted a couple of matte-black memox crystals into the twin AV recording deck.
“Interview with Richard Townsend,” Patterson said briskly. “Conducted by myself, Detective Patterson, with the assistance of CID advisory specialist Greg Mandel. Mr. Townsend has elected to have his solicitor present.”
“I did not kill Byrne Tyler,” Richard said. He stared at Mandel. “Is that true?”
“In as far as it goes,” Mandel said.
“Thank you!” he sat back and fixed Patterson with a belligerent expression.
“However, I think we need to examine the subject in a little more detail before giving you a completely clean slate,” Mandel said.
“If you must.”
Mandel gave Patterson a small nod. She opened her cybofax and studied the display screen. “Are you are a partner in the Firedrake company, Mr. Townsend?” she asked.
“What?”
“A company called Firedrake, do you own half of the shares?”
“Well, yes. One share, fifty percent. But that’s nothing to do with Byrne Tyler. It’s a venture with a…a business colleague.”
“Who is that?” Mandel asked.
“Not that it’s anything to do with you or this murder enquiry, but his name is Alan O’Hagen.”
“Interesting,” Detective Patterson said. “The other listed shareholder in Fire-drake is Newton Holdings.”
“Well, yes, that’s O’Hagen’s company.”
“No, Mr. Townsend. According to the companies register, Newton Holdings is owned by Byrne Tyler.”
Richard gave Jodie a desperate look. She frowned.
Detective Patterson consulted her cybofax again. “You’ve been partners for two years, is that right?”
“I…I’ve been a partner with Mr. O’Hagen for two years, yes.” He couldn’t help the way his eyes glanced at Mandel. The psychic was watching him impassively. “Not Byrne Tyler. I’ve never met him.
Never.”
“Really?” Patterson’s tone was highly skeptical. “Have you ever visited the So the by’s office in Stamford?”
Richard hooked a finger around his shirt collar; the air-conditioning wasn’t making any impression on the heat suddenly evaporating off his skin. O’Hagen! O’Hagen had scammed him. But how? He wasn’t a fool, he hadn’t paid O’Hagen any money, quite the opposite. The painting…Which the police obviously knew about. “Yes, I’ve been there.”
“Recently?”
“Earlier this week actually. I think you know that, though, don’t you? I was having an item of mine valued for insurance purposes.”
“Was that item a painting?” Mandel asked.
“Yes.”
“And didn’t you also confirm its authenticity while you were there?”
“I suppose so, the assistant had to make sure it was genuine before she valued it. That’s standard.”
“And the painting definitely belongs to you?”
“It does.”
Mandel turned to Patterson. “Well, that’s true.”
“Of course it is, I was given it some time ago by Mr. O’Hagen,” Richard said. “It was a gift. He will confirm that.”
“I shall be very interested in talking to this Mr. O’Hagen,” Patterson said. “That’s if you can ever produce him for us.” She turned her cybofax around so Richard could see the screen, it held the image ofView of a Hill and Clouds. “Is this the painting, Mr. Townsend?”
“Yes it is.”
“For the record,View of a Hill and Clouds by Sean McCarthy belongs to Byrne Tyler. The artist was a friend of the deceased. It was stolen from his apartment, presumably at the same time that he was murdered.”
“No,” Richard hissed. “Look, okay, listen. I’d never even heard of Firedrake until this week. Taking me on as a partner was a way of proving its viability to the banks. O’Hagen wanted a loan from them, that was the only way he could get it. We fixed it to look like I’d been a partner for two years.”
“Richard,” Jodie warned.
“I’m being set up,” he yelled at her. “Can’t you see?”
“Set up for what?” Patterson asked; she sounded intrigued.
“Byrne Tyler’s murder-that’s what I’m in here for, isn’t it? For Christ’s sake. O’Hagen’s rigged this so it looks like I was involved.”
“Why would Mr. O’Hagen want to do that to you?”
“I don’t fucking know. I’ve never met him before.”
“Mr. Townsend.”
Mandel’s voice made Richard lurch upright. “Yes?”
“You’ve never killed anyone yourself, but did you ever pay a man to eliminate somebody for you?”
Richard gaped at the psychic. In his head a panicked voice was yellingoh shit oh shit oh shit. Mandel would be able to hear it, to taste the wretched knowledge. His own shock-induced paralysis was twisting the emotion to an excruciating level. He thought his head was going to burst open from the stress.
Mandel gave him a sad, knowing smile and said: “Guilty.”
Two-A Suspicious Fall Detective Amanda Patterson had never visited Bisbrooke before. It was a tiny village tucked away along the side of a deep valley just outside Uppingham. Unremarkable and uneventful even by Rutland’s standards, which made it a contender for dullest place in Europe. Until today, that is, when one of the
