Page 84 of Child's Play
‘Micro tics: watch her eyes as she’s computing the maths problem. She blinks more times on the last question.’
‘It was a harder question,’ Tiff answered. ‘More stages for her brain to work through.’
‘And I could understand if her answer was way off but it was one digit out.’
‘So, what are you?…’
‘It’s like she was working harder to get it wrong.’
Tiffany shook her head. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said forwarding the footage and then pressing pause.
It was a close-up of the face of Mr Loftus following the incorrect answer. He looked flushed and murderous.
Tiff turned to her. ‘If that was a possible consequence, would you purposely get it wrong?’
Fifty-Seven
Keats and Mitch arrived within a minute of each other and spent a moment chatting outside the front door.
Take your time, guys, she thought. It wasn’t as though they’d been waiting for almost an hour.
Squad cars had screamed their arrival after she’d called it in, but the surrounding countryside and wildlife appeared to be less than impressed.
There were no road closures, no road diversions, just a slip of cordon tape across the front door. Not one person had turned up to see what all the fuss was about.
One of the squad cars had been tasked with questioning neighbours, once they found them, and as they’d been gone for twenty minutes she wasn’t feeling hopeful. This was not door-to-door questioning as she knew it. She suspected neighbourhood watch and CCTV were going to be a bust too.
Keats bustled past the two officers in the hallway with a nod and a half-smile. One of these days she’d get one of those half-smiles. It was something she aspired to.
‘Glad to see you’re suitably attired,’ Keats said sarcastically, glancing down at her feet.
Today was not that day.
Normally, Bryant managed to produce blue protective slippers from the boot of his car.
‘Was in a bit of a rush,’ she said, glancing at the victim.
‘Not sure your guy was going anywhere,’ he said, following her gaze.
Damn it, she had no answer to that.
‘Yeah, Bryant, why didn’t you remind me?’ she asked, nudging him.
‘Okay, my bad,’ he said, holding up his hands.
‘You’re forgiven,’ Keats said, stepping closer to the body.
A swarm of flies lifted from the body like a flock of birds. Keats didn’t bat an eyelid.
‘Linked to your current case?’ he asked, looking at the board game.
‘Oh yeah,’ she answered.
‘And killed before the other two,’ Keats observed, catching up with her.
He walked around to the back of the chair and used his pencil to move aside the collar of the shirt.
‘He has the X but of course you already know that.’
