Page 56 of Dissection of a Murder
“David?” he repeats back, puzzled. “My name isn’t David.”
“This isn’t David Welby?”
“No! You’ve obviously been given incorrect information.”
There’s relief in his voice.
“I’m really confused,” I tell him. “Is your number 09734837271?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I don’t suppose you know a William Morrison? Fifty-four years old? Likes to sit and drink cans of Foster’s all day in his garden and shout at people?”
“Never met him!” He laughs. “I’ve got nothing to do with this!”
“That bloody swine!” I sigh, looking at Davina, who stares at me. “He’s been brought in for theft and implicated someone else. Gave me this number. I’m sorry to waste your time but obviously we have to chase these things up.”
“No problem,” he says. “You had me panicked there!”
Hmm. Did I?
“Just for the record,” I go on, “so I can sign this off, could I have your name? I’ll need it to write up my notes and show my superior I’ve made this call and discounted it.”
“Sure,” he says. “It’s Quinn Smythe.”
“Quinn Smythe…” I repeat back to him, so Davina can grasp the enormity of this. Her mouth drops open in shock and her eyes widen like large saucers. “Anton’s son?” she mouths to me, in an exaggerated way, and I nod my head vigorously.
“Brilliant. Thanks, Quinn. Just writing that down,” I lie. “Have a good day.”
I hand the phone back to Davina, and as much as I want to feel bad about what I’ve just done, I don’t. Instead, I smile.
“I’ve got to hand it to you.” Davina grins. “Top extraction skills.”
“Cross-examination technique.” I shrug. “Make them panic, place them in a state of alert, bring them into safety, and most people will give you what you want.”
“So, what were Quinn and Anton hiding? It’s obviously something important, and I’d say relevant, given the timing and urgency of the message.”
“I agree.” I nod.
“Which bar was it again?” she asks.
“Diamond Lounge. Think it’s in town. The one on the river, with an outdoor terrace.”
She muses for a moment, squinting her eyes, staring at a corner of the room until a smile creeps onto her face.
“The good thing about this job is that you have friends in useful places,” she says, standing up. “Come on. Are you bringing that coffee with you?”
“Where are we going?”
“To watch what happened when Anton met his son a few hours before he was killed.”
27
Leila
12:42 p.m.
To say thiscase is a baptism by fire would be an understatement. It’s partly because of Davina, who is relentless in getting the best outcome for her clients by whatever means necessary. But now I’m also a willing party to this method.
