Deep Hurt - Eva Hudson Page 0,79
make.”
Gurley swore under his breath and kicked a nearby chair. It clattered into the table that was supporting an array of TV monitors. The monitors shook, one of them threatening for a moment to topple onto the floor.
“Take it easy,” the male PC said again.
“For crying out loud, is that all you can say?” Gurley marched toward the door, turned, then marched back again. “I want you to know I strongly oppose what you’re doing here.”
“I think you’ve made that quite clear.”
“Oh I can make it plenty clearer, believe me.” He pulled out the chair he’d just kicked and sat down.
The far left-hand monitor on the table showed activity in the interview room. The door opened. The family liaison officer they’d seen at the hospital walked in a few paces ahead of Carrie Foster. They both sat down on a low-backed couch, Carrie Foster leaning forward, her forearms resting on her knees. She looked as exhausted as she had during their previous meeting. After a few moments, DS Tyson and DCI Radcliffe entered the room and shut the door behind them. They sat on a matching couch arranged opposite the other, with just a few feet between the two. It almost looked as if Tyson’s knees might bump against the FLO’s. Ingrid understood the furniture and ambience of the room was meant to feel casual and unthreatening, but the forced intimacy seemed almost oppressive.
“Look at her,” Gurley said, tapping the screen of the next monitor along. It showed a close-up of Carrie Foster’s face. “She looks ready to collapse. They shouldn’t be putting her through this.” He balled his hand into a fist and banged it against his knee. “This shouldn’t be happening.”
Ingrid pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. The male PC sat next to her. The female PC took up position by the door, presumably ready to hinder any attempt by Gurley to interrupt the interview in the next room.
“Let’s just listen to what she has to say, shall we?” Ingrid said.
Gurley didn’t answer, just flexed his jaw muscles in response.
Radcliffe’s voice boomed through the speakers in the observation room. “Thank you for agreeing to come into the station like this, Mrs Foster. We really appreciate your cooperation.”
The PC stretched across Ingrid and lowered the volume control on the small amplifier sitting on the table.
“Do I need a lawyer?” Carrie Foster glanced at the FLO, who gave her a reassuring smile. She ignored it. “I mean, you’re all cops after all. Maybe I should have somebody here looking after my interests.”
“Good,” Gurley muttered. “She won’t be a pushover. Radcliffe won’t be able to bully her.”
“You’re not under arrest, Mrs Foster,” Tyson said in a soft voice. “You can get up and leave any time you want. This is just an informal chat.”
“Are you recording this?” she looked up toward the ceiling. “Filming it?”
“Only for your benefit. We wouldn’t want to mis-remember anything you told us. We don’t have to record a single word, if you’d rather have it that way.”
Mrs Foster hesitated before answering. “I suppose it’s for the best. I wouldn’t want you twisting my words.”
“We have absolutely no intention of doing that. Why would we?” Radcliffe said, his tone acquiring a harder edge.
“Look—I can’t stay here long. I still can’t sleep without medication, I’ve hardly eaten. I don’t feel well enough to answer a lot of questions. I shouldn’t be away from Molly.”
“We only really want you to tell us what happened on Monday morning.”
“Again?” Carrie Foster and Gurley said in unison.
“What is this? Anomalies my ass,” Gurley said. He started to get up, then changed his mind.
Ingrid did her best to ignore him, concentrating instead on what was going on in the room next door.
“I know it’s traumatic for you,” Radcliffe was saying, barely managing to sound sympathetic. Ingrid supposed he was eager to get the whole thing over with. “But now that Molly is on the road to recovery, we thought you might feel more able to speak to us.”
“The doctors don’t know if she’ll make a full recovery. There may be long term issues. What if she’s permanently brain damaged? What if she can’t hear or see properly?” She clasped her hands together. “What am I even doing here? I should get back to the hospital.” She stood up.
“We won’t keep you long, I promise.” Radcliffe managed a faint smile. “Something you tell us now might help track down Kyle.”
“Why is it taking you so long to find him?”
“It’s just