Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [classic children's novels txt] 📗

She stared at it a moment, frowning. Then she gave an involuntary intake of breath, and her hand went to her mouth. She stared at me, and she looked scared.

“Dehan, it was never about Nancy. He called me after I dropped you off. He was laughing. All he said was, ‘tick tock.’ It made me look at the photograph again. He must have taken it when you borrowed my car to go shopping.”

“I’m his fucking target? I’m not even blonde!”

“Pack a bag. You’re coming back to my place, and I am going to stick to you like glue.”

She nodded, and for a moment she looked small and vulnerable. “Thanks, Stone.”

Seventeen

I put her to bed in the spare room, and I sat in the living room watching TV till the sky turned gray over a wet dawn. Then I climbed the stairs and looked in on her. She was sleeping, snoring softly. I sat in the armchair in the corner and closed my eyes. That must have been about six thirty.

It felt like I had just closed my eyes, but I felt her shaking me gently, and when I opened them, she was showered and dressed, and there was a gray light in the room. I looked at the bedside clock. It was seven thirty.

She said, “Get in the bed, Stone. Get a couple of hours’ sleep. I’ll call you at nine thirty for breakfast.

I shook my head. “Make bacon and coffee. I’ll be down in twenty. I’ll get some sleep this afternoon.”

I had a cold shower, which got rid of the grogginess, and then the smell of bacon and coffee did the rest. I sat and she piled my plate with rashers, two eggs, and toast. Then she poured my coffee and sat opposite me.

“Stone, we have to pull Dave in.”

I ate, drank coffee, and thought.

“Okay.” I ate, drank, and thought a bit more. “On what charge?”

“Not arrest him. Interrogate him. Put him under pressure and see what happens to him.”

I looked at her and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

David was at his office and agreed to come with us without any objection. Fischer came out to see what was going on and took me aside.

“Are you arresting him?”

“No, we just want to ask him some questions down at the station.”

“Does he need a lawyer?”

“That’s up to him, Mr. Fischer, but we are not accusing him of anything.”

He looked past me at where David was standing with Dehan, staring at his feet. “David, do you want me to call Sam?”

David didn’t say anything. He just shook his head.

We drove in silence. Dehan sat by his side in the back and stared at him all the way. Even in the mirror I could tell he was nervous. We put him in the interrogation room and asked him if he wanted coffee. He said he didn’t. I took Dehan outside the room and asked her, “You want to sit this one out?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Okay. But I want you cool.”

She said she was cool, and we went back in. We sat. He was sitting with his feet together and his hands in his lap. His eyes were lowered.

I took a moment to think, then said, “David, I was just wondering if you could clarify a few things for me that I don’t understand.”

His jaw was rigid when he answered, like he was trying to talk with his mouth closed.

“If I can…”

“You told your uncle that twice a year, in July and December, you attend computer conventions and conferences so that you can stay abreast of developments in the IT world.”

His eyes shifted around, left and right, like he was mentally measuring the tabletop. I waited, and after a while he said, “That’s not a question. I don’t know how to answer you.”

Dehan looked at me like she wanted to slap him around the head. I ignored her.

“Okay, that’s true. Is it also true that you told your uncle that you attend those IT conferences?”

His cheeks colored and he gave a very small, private smile.

“Yes.”

“Now, here’s the thing. We checked and we found that there are no fixed IT conferences for those dates, every year. So, what I would like to know is, what have you been doing for the last twelve years, when your uncle thought you were attending IT conferences?”

He was silent again, with his eyes darting this way and that and his jaw working. Dehan said, “You going to answer the question, David?”

I glanced at her, but she ignored me.

I sighed. “I know it’s a difficult question to answer, Dave…”

“David.”

“David. I know it’s a difficult question to answer…”

“I have to insist on being called David.”

I paused. Dehan sighed.

I asked him, “Is that a decision you made for yourself, David?”

“Yes.”

“Did somebody help you to make that decision?”

“Yes.”

“Who helped you?”

“Dr. Stephens.”

“Is Dr. Stephens your psychologist?”

“Psychiatrist.”

“How long have you been seeing Dr. Stephens?”

“Thirteen years, th-three months, and four days.”

I gave a small laugh of admiration. “You have quite a memory.”

He smiled and there was clearly pleasure in his face. “I have an ei-eidetic memory. I have almost t-total recall.”

He was stammering on his longer sentences.

“I know a few psychiatrists. They are interesting people. They don’t see things the same way as other people, do they?”

He shook his head and murmured, “They’re smart.”

“They’re smart,” I agreed. “Like, most people would think telling the truth is good, lying is bad, right?”

His eyes were darting again, and his jaw started working. This was his tell, but it was a tell that said he was trying to frame a sentence.

“Dr-Dr. Stephens says, do w-what you need to do… t-to get strong…”

Dehan snapped,