Читать книгу For All Our Sins - T.M.E. Walsh - Страница 21

CHAPTER 12

Claire stared at the screen of her BlackBerry. The call she’d placed moments before had diverted to voicemail too quickly, not leaving much time to ring, so she knew Michael had hung up on her.

She’d spent the day organising her team, and compiling everything they knew about Father Wainwright, and after the draining experience at Gladstone Court, she was exhausted.

She walked out of her office and surveyed the incident room, eyes landing on the photographs on the opposite wall of the room. Photographs of Wainwright were spread out across it, pinned together like some twisted jigsaw, the pieces yet to match smoothly. It was a gruesome collection showing one of the worst traits that lurked inside the rarest of individuals.

Claire had seen some violent crime scenes before, but she was entering uncharted territory with this one.

She checked her BlackBerry in case there was anything from Michael.

Nothing. No email, no text.

No explanation.

She knew it was handing the Hargreaves case over that’d got him pissed at her, something she expected would be the case. But still she wondered if the underlying issue ran much deeper, more personal than either he or she were comfortable to admit to.

‘Guv,’ DC Harper said, interrupting her thoughts.

‘Gabe,’ she said, trying to shake the sadness from her.

‘CCTV picked Wainwright up in Toralei’s restaurant the night before he was murdered. With his housekeeper.’

Claire exchanged a look with Harper. ‘Do many priests go to dinner with their housekeepers, I wonder?’ she said, voice dry.

‘I’m still getting over the fact priests can afford housekeepers.’

Claire smiled. ‘He’s got no dependants, invested his money well…’

‘I’m still having a hard job seeing it.’

Claire’s BlackBerry pinged from inside her pocket. She reached for it, saw a new text message had come through.

Sorry. Bad time to talk. I’ll email you later.

Claire frowned at the words.

‘You all right?’ Harper said.

‘It’s Diego.’

‘I take it he’s no longer MIA?’ he said, smiling.

The BlackBerry pinged again. Claire flushed.

xxx M xx.

‘Give us five minutes, will you, Gabe?’ She walked away before Harper could answer.