Darkside_ A Novel - Belinda Bauer [104]
So he didn't want to blow her off; because of the crutches. It wasn't politically correct. Two years back he'd fumed silently through a compulsory course on political correctness, but something must have stuck, because instead of walking out, Marvel pointed to the easy chair that didn't match the couch.
'Can I sit down?'
She hesitated, then nodded briefly.
He sat. By the time he had completed the manoeuvre, he had decided to lay it on the line for her. If her husband had been shielding a killer she was going to find out sooner or later. Her crutches couldn't protect her from that. And maybe Jonas had told Lucy things he hadn't told him. If he appeared to be open with her, then maybe she'd be open back and he could glean new information to fatten up his case. God knows, it needed it.
'What's your name?' he started - then watched her struggle briefly not to tell him. He knew she thought it took away some of her strength, and she was right. That was why he'd asked.
'Lucy,' she finally said, because giving a civil answer to a civil question was in her nature.
So Marvel told Lucy all the reasons why he liked Jonas Holly. Contamination of scenes, disappearance of vomit, concealment of crucial evidence.
Lucy stared at him unforgivingly as he spoke - Marvel reckoned she probably wore the pants in the Holly household.
'You're not telling me anything I don't know,' she interrupted, although he could see by her face that that was a lie. 'I'm hearing a lot of coincidence and circumstantial evidence and no proof at all. You don't even have proof that Danny was involved, let alone Jonas!'
Marvel wasn't used to anyone telling him that he was taking a flyer. When he was Senior Investigating Officer on a case he was used to people doing as he told them without questioning his choices. Reynolds tried sometimes, but Reynolds wasn't really a policeman; he had no feel for the job.
'Danny Marsh left a written confession,' he said. 'You don't get more involved than that.'
'Bullshit!' she said with spirit. 'Jonas told me what it said. I did it. I'm not sorry? That's not a confession to murder. He could have run over a neighbour's cat for all you know!'
Although she was giving him a hard time, Marvel couldn't help liking Lucy Holly. Her staunch defence and willingness to engage in battle appealed to him. Sitting on the couch with her eyes sparking - and without her crooked legs on such obvious display - Lucy Holly was quite captivating.
'Jonas says you don't even have any fingerprints!'
Marvel shrugged. 'People are wise to prints nowadays. They all wear surgical gloves. The only ones who don't are drunks and fools. We found a box of surgical gloves in the Marshes' garage.'
'And I'm sure you'd also find several boxes at Mark Dennis's surgery. And the vet's in Dulverton,' she came back at him. 'Either way, you don't have prints,' she continued briskly. 'What about the button?'
Damn. She knew about the button. The weak link in his weak chain of evidence against Jonas Holly.
'What button?' he said.
'Don't play dumb with me,' Lucy told him with a hard stare that made Marvel feel like a toddler who's just hit a playmate with a toy train.
'It's one of 500,000 produced every year.'
'For the uniform trade, Jonas said. Doesn't that mean people like security guards and bouncers might be suspects? Not people like Danny who wear overalls for a living.'
'Your husband should not be discussing the details of this case. Even with you. There are certain things which we like to hold back--'
'So only the police and the killer know about it,' Lucy finished for him impatiently. 'Everybody knows that from half an hour in front of the telly! But it bothers me that you don't seem to be taking the button seriously. Doesn't it bother you?'
She looked at him expectantly and again he wished he could just tell her