Free Faraday 01 The Gigabyte Detective by Michael Hillier Page B

Hall with a terrace beyond it where the lords and ladies would have strolled. It’s on top of a cliff high above the valley which is choked with vegetation. If somebody fell off that terrace they might not be found for weeks.”
    She shivered. “I don’t like heights. I’ll need you to hold on to me.”
    “Oh, I will. You can be sure of that.” He covered her hand briefly with his. “I promise I’ll be very careful with you. The amazing thing is that there’s often nobody there, even in the height of summer when Torbay is heaving with visitors.”
    “I can’t wait to see it all,” she said. “Hurry up and finish your coffee. We don’t want to waste any more of this super day.”
    He swallowed the rest of his drink and waved to the waitress. “The car’s just up the road. Is there anybody you need to ring to tell them that you won’t be back until later?”
    She shook her head. I don’t think so. It’ll only confuse Mollie - she’s my cleaner - if I ring her and tell her I’m off into the wilds with some strange man. She finishes at twelve o’clock anyway and she knows how to set the alarms. There won’t be anybody at the house after that.” She wondered for a moment if it was wise to say so much to a man she hardly knew. But she shrugged - today was for fun. For once in her life she was throwing caution to the winds.
    * * * * * * * *
    Julian Brace met them at the door. Stafford Paulson already knew him and he did the introductions. Charlotte found the journalist an attractive personality. He was probably in his mid-thirties, a little taller than she was, with fair, close-cropped hair and a pleasant smile. He also seemed to have better manners than most of the journalists she had encountered in London.
    “A DI and a DCI,” he grinned. “This must be an important visit. So I’m sure the editor won’t mind if I borrow his office. He’s away this morning.” He led them to a glass-fronted office just off the main news-room, ordered coffee and closed the door.
    “I expect you can guess what this is about, Julian,” said Paulson.
    “I suppose it’s my article.” Brace scratched the back of his head and looked straight at Charlotte. She found it disconcerting, the way his eyes bored straight into hers, as though he was foraging around in her private thoughts. “I must say that I’m pleasantly surprised to find that the police have actually read the piece. Then to have them come and ask about it - that is a new experience.” There was a slight smile on his face that robbed the comments of bitterness.
    Charlotte explained, “I’ve been loaned from London to see if I can help to clear this one up. I want to get as much background information as I can. Obviously most of this will come from Inspector Paulson and his team. But I want to spread my net as widely as I can.”
    “I see.” Brace’s grin broadened. “It’s not that you’re actually giving credence to my theory.”
    That made her smile as well. “I don’t know. I’ve an open mind at this stage. Nothing is ruled out.”
    The coffees came and they settled down. “OK,” said Brace. “I take it you’ve read the article.”
    “Yes I have and I’m interested in finding out what were your sources.”
    “It’s all come from back copies of the paper. I’ve taken photocopies of the ones I used which I’ll let you have. It all started when I suddenly remembered an incident just after I started working for the Herald nearly three years ago. The wife of one of the local bigwigs had committed suicide. When I checked my article I found it was almost exactly two years before Cynthia Adams was murdered.”
    “Which one in the series would this be - er - following your theory?”
    He thought for second. “That would be number three. Her name was Julia Hillman. The coincidence that interested me was that her husband was mayor at the time - the year before Cynthia Adams. The other strange aspect was the fact that the whole thing was hushed