Over the Darkened Landscape - By Derryl Murphy Page 0,43

is not terribly interested in knowing who killed her husband.”

Mike blinked in surprise. “Um, can I ask why not?”

“You were the boy,” came a soft voice from behind.

They turned their heads, then all three stood as one. A young woman in simple dark blue slacks and matching blouse had entered the office, walking around them to stand beside the lawyer. She was petite, very slender in her hips and her bust, almost childlike. Which, Mike assumed, was likely the point.

“You were the boy,” she repeated. “The one who came over from Templeton.”

Mike nodded, unsure where this was going. Simone put a reassuring hand on his forearm. “I was . . . I am.”

“This is Ms. Hayes,” said Singh. She sat without offering to shake hands, and the rest of them followed suit.

“I’m sorry this had to happen to you,” Ms. Hayes continued. “Enough innocence was lost without you being added to the mix.”

Mike swallowed, wondering if he would have the nerve to ask the obvious question. But he didn’t have to; Simone beat him to the punch. “Ms. Hayes, I know we’re not supposed to ask you questions, but we need to know . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she sounded very uncomfortable.

“I’m twenty-two,” was the reply. “We married when I was sixteen.” Her voice turned bitter and cold. “Apparently I was too old for him. It worked better if his partners didn’t age.”

Singh held up a hand. “That will be enough questions and answers.” He looked pointedly at his client. Then he opened a drawer and pulled out two small wooden boxes, slid them across the desk. “This is why Ms. Hayes doesn’t want to know.”

Mike reached over and grabbed the boxes, knowing full well what it held. Sure enough, more Slow. One held two small vials of the stuff; another dozen were in the other. In little fabric pouches tucked alongside the vials were fresh syringes as well.

“Where did you find these?” asked Simone.

“In Mr. Hayes’s office,” said the lawyer, putting his hand on his client’s arm. “Don’t worry, as soon as Ms. Hayes found them she called me. Aside from doorknobs and drawer handles, these were the only things she touched. His office, across the hall,” he pointed, “is otherwise unmarred, and ready for your experts to search. Any other rooms you wish to check, you’ll need to come back with a warrant.”

“And what do we need to do in return?” Mike closed the box that only held two vials and slid it into his pocket, knowing damn well this was against procedure. The other wouldn’t fit, so he just tucked it under his arm.

“Nothing. Your bosses will be made aware of things shortly. I don’t know if you’ll find names in there, but chances are good there’s a path to them. I imagine there are some people who won’t want their affiliation with Mr. Hayes known after this comes out.”

“If it comes out,” said Simone.

“That’s a big word,” agreed Singh. “But between the three of us and your bosses, Ms. Hayes and her husband were not living a very happy marriage these past few years. As soon as the will is cleared up, she has plans to liquidate assets and leave the country for good.”

“We should probably rule you out as a suspect, first,” said Mike, trying to look apologetic as he glanced at Ms. Hayes.

“Already taken care of,” countered the lawyer. “Ms. Hayes was out of town, with friends. Here are her travel tickets, receipts, and a list of phone numbers.” He handed Mike a manila envelope. “I’ll also tell you now that she had no hand in her husband’s business, took no notice of any people he chose to entertain, and, as you’ll see in the envelope, was away for almost two weeks. She has no knowledge of any people who may have visited during that time.”

Mike riffled through the contents of the envelope, then put them back to be checked later. “Are we done here then?”

“Mr. Hayes’s office, detectives. One of my associates will wait in the hall for you to finish and then show you out.” He nodded his head at the two of them; Ms. Hayes gave a slight smile and then turned to look out the window. “Good day.”

The other office door was open. This one was much larger, more sumptuous than the first. The desk was oak, and immense, and expensive prints or even actual paintings inhabited the walls. Several thousand hardcover and leatherbound books sat in