Doctor Who_ Beyond the Sun - Matthew Jones [18]
The detective poured coffee into disposable cups from a metal flask and pushed one in front of her. He was in his early forties, muscular, with short dark hair that was gracefully receding. Colonist ancestry, she guessed. He had deep brown eyes and looked intelligent and serious. Bernice found his calm confidence unnerving.
‘Sugar?’ he asked, his voice calm and polite. She couldn’t place his accent.
Bernice shook her head and watched as he sorrowfully allowed himself half a spoonful. ‘Trying to keep trim,’ he explained and almost smiled.
‘Really? Er . . . good for you,’ Bernice said, not quite knowing what to do with this random piece of personal information. She’d been here for what felt like hours. It was a small holding cell at the spaceport: dull, grey, metal walls and a plastic bench in the corner. ‘Why don’t you ask me some questions or something?’
‘Is there anything in particular that you would like me to ask you about, Professor?’
‘We could begin with the kidnapping of Jason.’
‘Your husband?’
‘Ex-husband. But yes, that would be a start.’
‘I want to be honest with you, Professor Summerfield. I’ve listened to your account of his disappearance and I don’t believe that your husband – sorry, your ex-husband – has been kidnapped. I’m afraid that it just doesn’t quite ring true.’
‘It doesn’t? Oh and why exactly is that?’
The detective lifted the disposable cup to his lips and was about to take a sip before he paused.
‘To begin with I would like to know what you were doing in his hotel room at such an hour.’
‘That’s not really any of your business.’
‘Well . . .’
Bernice noted that the detective had the good grace to look pained at this. He took a sip of his coffee and winced at the heat. ‘I’m afraid it is, Professor. You see, I don’t believe you when you say that last night was the first time you had seen Jason Kane in almost . . .’ He made a show of checking the date in the statement in front of him. ‘What is it, eight months? I am only made more suspicious by you describing him as your ex-husband when it is clear that you returned to his hotel room last night in his company and engaged in sexual intercourse with him.’
Bernice felt caught out. She reached automatically for her coffee cup and took a sip. The coffee was strong and smelt rich and expensive and burnt the roof of her mouth. ‘And I suppose you were there, were you? Were you hiding in the en-suite or did you just bug the room?’
‘No,’ the detective replied, his voice remaining even, brown eyes blinking slowly. ‘I arrived on the planet this morning. The receptionist at the hotel reported that you had returned with Mr Kane last night. You have a slight inflammation around your mouth which I guessed was the result of you kissing your husband – sorry, ex-husband.’ He scrolled through the file in front of him until he found a holo. ‘The unshaven gentleman is your Mr Kane, I take it.’
Bernice stared at the image and nodded. It looked as if it had been taken from a distance with some kind of telescopic equipment. Jason, in evening dress, was escorting a young woman into an expensive-looking restaurant. The woman was strikingly attractive, with bright red hair. The holo could have been taken for a society publication. They looked like a young aristocratic couple in love. Bernice adjusted her crumpled denim shirt, and tried to hold down the sick feeling in her stomach.
When she looked up, the detective was observing her attentively. ‘We believe the young woman to be his accomplice.’
‘Accomplice?’ Bloody hell! What had he got himself involved in? Suddenly Bernice just wanted the interview to be over. ‘Look, can you explain to me what it is that you think Jason has done?
I’ve really told you all that I know. He arrived yesterday suggesting