Free Coding Isis by David Roys Page A

Chris.
    ‘Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,’ said Bob. His smile was one of total assurance. ‘You may think things look bad, but believe me, if they had any evidence at all, you would be arrested and we would be having a very different conversation. You just need to understand how these things work. They pull you in for a nice friendly chat, no doubt you were asked to give your statement down here for some trumped-up reason. Am I right?’ Chris nodded and Bob continued, ‘They get you to repeat your statement, over and over. They’re looking for you to make mistakes, minor differences, and then they pick away at that, until they’ve opened up your story enough to get some leverage, like scratching away at a rock face, waiting for a crack to open up. They want you to sweat. They’re trying to get you to lie, to cover yourself and then when you get caught in the lie, you’ll lie more to get out and before you know it, you feel you’ve nowhere left to hide. It’s standard police procedure, son, but don’t let it get to you. They’re talking to you because this is one hell of a mystery. They have nothing.’
    ‘But what about my gun? I was at the firing range the day before she died. I’ll have residue on my hands.’
    ‘So what? There’s plenty of people shoot, there’re plenty of legitimate reasons for a positive GSR test and, without other evidence it means nothing.’
    ‘I’m pleased you’re here Bob.’
    ‘So am I Chris.’
    The meeting with Detective Naylor went as Bob had predicted. The emails from Chris’s computer were a bit of a surprise but Bob was not fazed. There were plenty of reasons why Jasmine may have wanted to meet with Chris on the day she died. The chances are, Bob argued, she had gotten herself in some kind of trouble and was worried. She wanted Chris’s help in getting things straightened out. She was either killed by some crazy in the park, or whoever she was having problems with got carried away and shot the poor girl. There was no evidence linking Chris to the primary crime scene, there was no motive for Chris to have killed her. The cops had nothing. Bob pushed Naylor to either arrest his client or let him go. It was a heart-stopping moment for Chris. Naylor looked at Chris, and then at Bob, a penetrating gaze that was asking the question, did he do it? He broke off the stare and looked down to his file, as though he was waiting for something theatrical to happen, some new evidence to be brought in by his assistant that he could spring on his suspect and close the case. Nothing happened. He looked up again and nodded. They were free to go. Chris felt he hadn’t seen the last of Naylor, but for now he didn’t care. He wanted to get out of there and get back to Michelle.
    Bob offered Chris a ride home. His car was a Mercedes CLK in silver with gray leather seats. He pressed the button on his key fob and the alarm chirped as the doors unlocked. Chris thought of Detective Naylor’s car. It was the polar opposite to this luxurious automobile that was in pristine condition. The car smelled of new carpet and leather.
    As they drove Bob spoke in a serious tone, not as Chris’s lawyer now, but as Michelle’s dad. He said, ‘I’m sure you’re itching to call Michelle, but before you do we need to have a little chat.’
    Chris waited, but he knew what was coming.
    Bob said, ‘I believe you didn’t kill the girl. If I didn’t, I would not be driving you back to be with my daughter, and I sure as hell would not have gotten you out of that police cell. You should bear that in mind if you ever call on my services again. Family comes first you understand?’
    ‘I understand.’
    ‘Good. Now the detective seemed to think you may have been having some kind of affair with the dead girl. I’m going to ask you once and I want you to be truthful. Were you?’
    Chris looked over at Bob, ‘Are you asking me as my lawyer or as Michelle’s father?’
    ‘I’m asking you man to