Sunday 8 September 2013
DCI Foley and Audrey Boyd stared at each other; DC Knight sitting beside his superior officer shook his head. The room was silent save for the ticking of the cheap plastic wall clock. Knight held back the smirk that was making its way to his lips. The ‘Foley stare’, as Foley had named it, was an endgame tactic that the DCI employed when he was confident that he could close a case. It would last a minute or two longer, and then Foley would press her for the information he wanted.
Knight had already primed the tape and introduced those in the room, and Audrey had, once again, confirmed her name and address for the record. If a new officer was given the job to transcribe the tape, they would, at first, wonder if anyone had bothered to record an interview on the tape. Then, after listening to it again, in case they had missed an important segment of interview, the officer would go to Foley and ask about the beginning of the tape. Foley would sigh and grumble about the incompetence of junior officers but finally, he’d take great care to educate them about the ‘Foley stare’. The junior officer shake his or her head and sigh in reply to the tale, and trundle off to continue transcribing the tape, rueing the fact that they’d bothered to ask about the five or so minutes silence at the start.
The time had finally arrived.
‘So, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way, Miss Boyd?’ Foley asked. Knight jumped in before she could respond. He couldn’t bear to go through the charade one more time.
‘For the love of God, please, please, agree to the easy way.’
Audrey smirked. ‘Oh, so it’s the good cop bad cop routine, is it?’
‘Not at all. Self-preservation . . . on my part. I don’t give a crap about you, but I can’t stand another of his performances,’ Knight replied.
‘Aahhh, so it’s just bad cop Foley,’ she said.
‘It wasn’t Connor Ryan who was coming to see us today, Audrey, so who was it? Who did you convince to play your recently murdered ex-husband? Who’s the poor schmuck who ended up dead this morning?’
‘Straight to the point, DCI Foley. I like that. However, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘You can keep playing that card, Audrey, but our coroner will identify the body. I simply hoped that you’d save us the time and money it’ll take to do that. Or . . . ’ he paused, and waited for her to respond, as suspects always did to Foley.
‘Or what, DCI Foley?’
‘Or I’ll throw you in the jail until we do discover who the poor sod was.’
She wasn’t convinced of his threat, and sat silently once again. Foley allowed her time to consider his options. She refused to budge.
‘DC Knight, charge her and have her taken into custody.’
Knight floundered long enough for Audrey to realise that Foley’s instruction had caught the DC off guard, just as it had her. It gave her cause for concern; perhaps Foley was serious about throwing her in jail.
‘Trav?’ asked Knight.
‘Russell . . . I don’t care what you charge her with, just bloody well do it.’
* * * * *
‘Harry Morley,’ Dr. Eva Noland called out to Foley as he strode away from the interview room. ‘The dead guy from the car. It’s HARRY MORLEY.’
Foley, mind step, swung around to face the approaching coroner, a look of confusion on his face.
Out of breath, Eva called back, ‘From this morning. The guy’s name is Harry Morley, not Connor Ryan. Fingerprints came back pretty quickly because he’s in the system for assault. Apparently, that’s something that ol’ Harry Morley excels at. He’s been done for quite a few over the years, including his wife, girlfriend, and three guys at a pub. His charge sheet is extensive.’ She handed him the file she’d been reading from. He scanned each page, from beginning to end; smiling the further he went into Morley’s records.
‘You’ve given me just the right amount of leverage over that woman, Eva. Thank you,’ he said to the coroner. Then he raced back into the interview room before Knight could have Audrey taken down to the cells.
. . . To be continued . . .