Free The Secret Friend by Chris Mooney Page B

voice was raspy, tired, the words slightly slurred. ‘Would either of you like something to eat or drink?’
    ‘That’s very kind of you, but we don’t want to take up your time,’ Bryson said. ‘Is there a place where we can talk privately?’
    Hale suggested his office.
    Darby trailed behind the men, taking in the home with its vaulted ceilings and artful lighting. Japanese antiques were prominently displayed on walls and stands. Inside a restaurant-sized kitchen, an older Hispanic woman was busy working at the stove.
    Jonathan Hale slowed his pace and looked over his shoulder at Darby. ‘McCormick… You’re the one who caught that killer that was all over the news.’
    ‘Traveler,’ Darby said.
    ‘It’s Dr McCormick now, isn’t it?’
    ‘Keeping tabs on me, Mr Hale?’
    ‘It’s rather difficult not to, young lady. You’ve become somewhat of a media sensation.’
    Unfortunately, he was right. The Traveler case, the focus of national TV programmes like Dateline and 60 Minutes, now lived in perpetuity on cable shows such as Forensic Files, Court TV and A&E’s Notorious. Darby had never given an interview but, because of her connection to Traveler, her name was constantly mentioned in the pieces along with pictures taken by photographers hiding in bushes or their cars. Her movements were even the focus of the ‘Inside Track’, a gossip column published by the Boston Herald.
    Hale’s office was spacious and bright, with bookcases and leather armchairs straight out of the Harvard Club. A fire was going. The warm room smelled of woodsmoke and cigars. Hale waited until they were seated.
    ‘I talked with Mr Marsh this morning,’ Hale said, stubbing out his cigar. ‘He gave me the description of this man. Do you know who he is?’
    Bryson took the lead. Darby wanted to take a back seat and observe.
    ‘We don’t,’ Bryson said. ‘What about you? Do you know this man?’
    Hale appeared puzzled. ‘Are you suggesting that I know the man who broke into my daughter’s house?’
    ‘It’s just a routine question, Mr Hale.’
    ‘No. I don’t know who he is.’
    ‘Have you ever seen a man matching the description?’
    ‘No.’ Hale picked up a highball glass containing what appeared to be bourbon. ‘What was he doing there?’
    ‘We’re investigating several leads. Have you –’
    ‘Detective Bryson, when I spoke to you this morning, you said it appears someone broke into my daughter’s home. Did this person break into Emma’s home or not?’
    ‘We found no sign of forced entry on the door. We’re wondering if the man had a key. How many people besides yourself have access to your daughter’s place?’
    ‘I have a key, as does Mr Marsh.’
    ‘Have you made any other copies?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Have you given your keys to anyone?’
    ‘No, I haven’t. I don’t want anyone inside Emma’s place.’
    ‘Then why did you give Mr Marsh a key?’
    ‘He has keys to every unit. He’s the building’s security administrator. He needs a key in case there’s a problem.’
    ‘Does Mr Marsh know Emma’s alarm code?’
    ‘I would assume so. He has access to the building’s security system. The computer lists the alarm code for each unit. Emma’s alarm has been turned off since her… abduction. I had it turned off, at your request, when you had people coming in and out.’
    ‘Why haven’t you turned it back on?’
    ‘To be honest, I haven’t really thought about it.’ Hale finished his drink. ‘Pardon me for saying this, detective, but I have the feeling this is turning into some sort of interrogation.’
    ‘I apologize,’ Bryson said. ‘I’m trying to understand, as I’m sure you are, what this person was doing inside your daughter’s home.’
    Hale shifted his attention to Darby. ‘I understand you spoke with this person.’
    Darby nodded.
    Hale waited for her to speak. When she didn’t, he said, ‘Are you going to tell me what he said? Or are you going to keep me in the