Page 20 of Crocodile Tears

Reed looked delighted by the praise. “Likewise, sir,” he murmured, his dark skin suffused with the faintest flush.

Josiah sat back in his chair and glanced at the IS, who was still sitting stiffly where he’d been placed, his hands resting on his knees.

“I don’t want Baumann to start the autopsy yet. Tell her to put the body on ice for now – and out of sight,” he said, standing up.

“Why? Where are you going?” Reed asked, surprised.

“To test a theory. Tell Baumann I’ll be joining her in a couple of minutes. Alexander – you’re with me.”

He led the IS to the lift and pressed the button for the mortuary. The lift doors closed, and they were alone for the first time. Alexander looked at him expectantly.

“What?” Josiah asked.

“Nothing.” Alexander lowered his gaze.

“You know, you’re interestingly quiet for a man in this kind of predicament.”

“Would protesting my innocence help?”

“No, but it might make you seem more normal. You do know what happens to indentured servants found guilty of murdering their houders, don’t you?”

Alexander shrugged. “I believe it carries the death penalty.”

“And that doesn’t bother you? Don’t you care about your life? Do you want to die? Is that it?”

“I do not want to die,” Alexander replied softly.

“Then you need to start cooperating with me, because right now, I’m all that stands between you and that death penalty.”

“Really?” Alexander raised an eyebrow. “You’re Josiah Raine, the famous indiehunter. Everyone knows you hate indentured servants, and why, so you must forgive me for not believingyouare my best hope.”

Josiah felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He clenched his fists hard and glared down at the IS, but Alexander stood his ground and stared straight back at him.

The lift doors opened, and he collected himself. This was no time to be out-psyched by a suspect; it was time to do a little out-psyching of his own.

He put his hand on the IS’s shoulder and deliberately squeezed. Alexander gave an almost imperceptible flinch – he hid it well, but Josiah was satisfied that he’d worked out the secret behind Alexander’s strange body language.

“Is there a reason why you delayed my post-mortem?” Dr Baumann demanded as they entered the mortuary.

“Yes. I want you to do a different examination first – on the living.” Josiah jerked his head at Alexander. “I could call in the duty doctor but that would take a while, and all I really need is a qualified witness.”

“A qualified witness to what?” Baumann asked, frowning.

Josiah glanced at Alexander, who stared back impassively.

“Take off your shirt,” Josiah ordered.

Alexander blinked, and Josiah caught a brief flicker of panic.

“Why?” he challenged.

“This is Doctor Baumann, a qualified pathologist. As I’m sure you know, that requires her to have a medical degree. It’s perfectly legal for a senior investigator to request a medical examination of a suspect by a qualified doctor. Are you sure you don’t want that lawyer, Alexander?”

Alexander gave a tight smile. “Quite sure.”

“Okay – so take off your shirt.”

Alexander stood there for a long moment, clearly fighting an internal battle, but Josiah was a patient man – if this indie wanted to play games, he’d picked the wrong person.

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