Page 118 of Stolen Ones
‘Of course she is. With one hour to go before charge or release, she’s already singing Christmas songs.’
‘I have another question. May I have a cup of tea?’
Stacey appeared puzzled. ‘Were you not served a beverage of your choice with breakfast this morning?’
‘I was but I’d like—’
‘In that case, I think we’ll press on.’
Kim silently congratulated the young officer on her acting ability.
Stacey opened up her folder.
The first page was an official police statement. On it were words that were typed in 8-point font. He had no way in hell of reading it upside down.
Stacey made a show of reading it word for word.
Harte watched her closely, continually looking down at the page and then at Stacey.
‘Oh, he’s getting annoyed now,’ Alison said. ‘You see his right fist clenching? He thinks it’s buried in his other arm but look at the crease of the material. By constantly looking from Stacey to the page, he is trying to exert control. He wants to catch her eye. He wants to begin.’
Yet it was Kate Swift who leaned forward.
‘Constable, do you intend asking my client a question any time soon?’
‘Why, does your client have somewhere else to be?’
Kim felt a jolt of pride. Stacey was under instruction to annoy the hell out of the man, and she was doing a damn good job.
She continued to watch.
‘Mr Harte, I’d like to talk to you about your memories of Paula Stiles. You recall a great deal of detail about her abduction in…Hang on…’
‘My client is here to talk about Lexi Walters only,’ Swift interjected.
‘And I’ve already been over this in detail with Inspector Stone.’
Stacey made a show of looking through her folder.
‘My apologies. I must have somehow missed…’ Stacey’s words trailed away as Harte and Swift looked at each other.
‘Okay, maybe we should move on. Your relationship with Jenson Butler started at school, is that right?’
‘No, it bloody well isn’t. I met him at university. Have you even read the file?’ he asked, stabbing the table.
‘Well, yes, I am familiar with the case,’ Stacey said, leafing through all the paperwork, as though she was looking for something in particular. She was doing it quickly, adding panic into her movements.
‘Have you done this before, Detective Constable?’ Harte asked.
Kim didn’t need to read his body language. The contempt was dripping from his words.
‘Yes, I once interviewed…’
‘Once?’ he exploded.
Kim couldn’t help but laugh.
They had decided to play on every weakness they knew of him. His self-importance, his attachment to her and his need for a cup of tea.
