Page 41 of Mystic Justice
‘They were fighting over the same girl?’
‘Right. I reached out to centaur number two, who was recorded on Bland’s report as a Jesse Dusty, and guess where he and Bogan ended up?’
I went cold. ‘Botany?’
McCaffrey smirked triumphantly. ‘Bingo.’
I smiled back: bingo, indeed. Now we had a thread to tug. Moss was employed at Botany and Bogan had been drinking there. The club’s involvement was no coincidence; in fact, it seemed to be the very epicentre of the case.
Chapter Twenty
Sandra’s hair was back to being down in tight blonde ringlets. I watched her for a moment through the two-way glass: she was visibly nervous, wiping her palms along her trousers, gnawing at her bottom lip. When questioned by the police in the station, most people showed some nerves – a flash of tongue to wet dry lips, a shift in the seat – but her movements were more than that. She’d done something wrong, something illegal, and I was going to find out what.
Though she’d struck me as a little cold and calculating in our initial interview, she hadn’t struck me as a killer, hadn’t sent my spidey sense tingling. Gut instinct only counted for so much, however, and I was always happy to be proved wrong. Besides a handy confession, nothing was better than cold, hard evidence – and I was ready to gather some.
Sandra had been invited to come in for a voluntary chat and she’d been willing enough. She hadn’t asked for a brief; maybe she thought not asking for a lawyer made her look innocent. I thought it made her look foolish.
‘Channing, with me. Krieg, you can watch out here.’ I expected Krieg to argue but he merely inclined his head. Damn him, always subverting my expectations.
‘Of course,’ he said mildly. ‘I look forward to seeing you in action, Inspector.’ His words were matter of fact rather than flirty, which I appreciated. I needed my brain in work mode.
With effort, I put Krieg out of my mind and turned to Channing. ‘I’ll log us, then you start the questioning. You go nicey-nicey then I’ll come in harder at the appropriate point. Okay?’
‘You got it, ma’am.’ He winced. ‘Wise,’ he corrected himself. I ignored the minor gaffe and he led the way into the interview room; a manila folder tucked under his arm.
I hit record and began. ‘Recording Procedure X in place. Inspector Wise and Detective Channing in interview with Sandra Jaxim on Monday seventh of July at 1.13pm.’ I smiled. ‘Let me just get the usual bumf out of the way,’ I murmured as an aside. ‘You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
‘Thanks for coming in,’ Channing said, his tone friendly. ‘We’ve just got a few questions for you.’ He passed her a printout from the folder. ‘Here’s the statement you gave when we met at Botany. Can you just read it for me and confirm that it’s true and accurate to the best of your knowledge and belief?’
With a nervous smile, Sandra picked up the papers and read the two pages. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘That’s all correct.’ She passed the sheets back to Channing.
He smiled as he placed them back inside the manila folder, then set the folder casually on the table as it if weren’t of any importance. ‘Great. How do you like working at Botany?’
‘I love it. It’s got a great atmosphere. The staff have a real family vibe, you know?’ Though her words were casual, her smile was strained.
‘I’ve been looking into the staffing records,’ Channing said with a faint frown that looked somehow as if he regretted having to raise the matter. He was actually very good at this, far better than I’d expected: he played good cop well. ‘There’s quite a high turnover of staff. You’ve been the manager for five years, and of the rest of the staff your deputy manager Ruben has been there longest at three years. Moss was next at two years. Apart from that, virtually everyone else has been there a year or less. Why do you think that is?’
Sandra shrugged. ‘It’s a job for young people. They work while they’re at university but they tend to quit around their third year so they can focus on their studies, or they finish their degrees and move back home. The pay isn’t great but the tips make up for it.’
‘The pay isn’t great but you own your own flat in the coven tower?’ Channing sounded impressed.
‘I – yes.’
‘It must have been tough getting a mortgage when a lot of your wage is based on tips.’ Channing’s tone was perfect, just the right balance of businesslike and empathy, as if he too had struggled. As far as I knew, he didn’t own his own house. He was still young; he had time.
‘The coven council has their own mortgage company to help witches – and Others – get on the property ladder,’ Sandra explained. ‘They’re flexible.’
‘Oh.’ He looked relieved. ‘That’s good. But it still must be hard. Most people in their thirties have steadier jobs.’
‘I’m a manager of a successful bar in Liverpool,’ she snapped back, losing her nervousness for the first time. She shot him a superior look. ‘I’m doing just fine.’
‘Right. I guess you are. So talk to me about Moss. On the night she went missing, you worked until 11pm?’
‘Right,’ she agreed, either subconsciously or deliberately mimicking his word choice.
‘But you didn’t see Moss leave?’
She licked her lips. ‘Like I said, it was Ruben’s turn to lock up and Moss was still inside when I left.’
