Detective Inspector Wiles had set up a command post at the Moody residence, in what was clearly once Jed’s office, or perhaps Annika’s. There was a large teak desk in the centre and an absurdly large black swivel chair behind it. In front, several smaller chairs sat looking across the desk and out through white shutters to a bright fern view.
“Thanks for coming in so early, especially for a Saturday,” Wiles said as Roxy took one of those chairs in front of him. They had prearranged the 8:00 a.m. meeting the night before and the early start didn’t bother Roxy today. She was looking forward to returning to the Moody property and having a word with Houghton about the book. One way or the other she needed to know whether it was going ahead.
“You’re just lucky I didn’t have that third glass of paint stripper,” she told Wiles and he laughed.
It was a lovely laugh, rich and deep, and it reached his eyes, which sparkled crystal blue in the morning light that was now filtering through the shutters.
“You can blame me for that. I suggested the place. Wanted a watering hole close to my hotel, but I think I’ll give it a miss tonight.” He took a breath, hesitated then said, “Listen, about Gilda. Is she—?”
He never got a chance to finish that question because the door swung open and Quick marched in, his thick boots pounding heavily on the bare floorboards. He nodded at Wiles and ignored Roxy completely as he strode across to the window and perched on the wide frame, his arms and legs crossed over in front of him. He looked defensive and uncomfortable.
“You know Detective Sergeant Quick from the Tweed Byron Local Area Command, of course,” Wiles said to Roxy, and she gave Quick a polite smile. He returned it with sullen silence. “Quick will be sitting in for the interview which I’ll be taping, for reference purposes only.” He pointed to a digital recorder in front of him and she nodded, unperturbed.
Doing regular interviews herself, Roxy wasn’t as suspicious of recorders as the average Joe tended to be. They were useful devices, enabling the interviewer to focus on the questions and the interviewee to be sure their answers would not be misquoted.
“So where is the lovely Detective Gilda Maltin today?” Wiles asked now as he positioned the recorder closer to Roxy at the edge of the desk and placed his finger over the “Record” button.
“She’s gone back to the Tweed office, taking another look at Sunny’s file.”
Quick made a sound then, deep in his throat, and both Wiles and Roxy looked across at him, Wiles’s eyebrows raised. The local detective had a grim look on his face and his eyes were staring intensely at the wall on the other side of the room.
Without missing a beat, Wiles turned back to Roxy and said, “If there’s anything to be found, Detective Maltin will find it. Okay, let’s hear your story then.” He promptly pressed “Record”.
And so they returned to the night of Jed Moody’s murder. In clear, concise details, Roxy repeated the statement she gave Quick, this time making sure to include the mysterious conversation she had overheard between Annika and a mystery man in the living room that night. She also repeated what Alistair had said about Jed that morning.
“So there’s some genuine animosity between the band members then,” Wiles said, but before she could respond, Quick spoke up.
“The guys are good mates, actually.” He stared at Roxy. “How long did you interview Al for? What, half an hour? An hour tops?”
She shifted in her seat. “About two hours.”
“And you think you know someone in that time, do you? You think you suddenly know the whole dynamics of a band who’ve been together for decades, in just two hours?”
Roxy couldn’t help blushing. She wasn’t expecting such open animosity and she glanced at Wiles who remained silent.
“I’m just telling you what Alistair told me, that’s all. He called Jed an asshole and a selfish prick, his words, not mine. I have it all on tape.”
He tsked. “You got him on a bad day, that’s all. I’ve known the guys for a lot longer than you and they’ve always got along. Best mates.”
“Not according to the band’s publicist, Harry Houghton. He pretty much confirmed there’d been tension between them for a long time, off the record, of course.”
“Of course,” Quick said.
Wiles cleared his throat. “Let’s move on to the electrician, Sam Forrest, then.” His eyes switched from Quick back to Roxy who wondered whether Wiles found his colleague’s aggressive style as unhinging as she did. So much for thinking Quick might be a sympathetic cop. “Did you see Mr. Forrest, or anyone for that matter, loitering on the eastern side of the house, anywhere near the bar stairs, at any time before Jed Moody got on stage that night?”
“Near the fuse box, you mean?”
He didn’t reply, so she shook her head.
“And when Sam Forrest came to talk to you that night, about helping him with his sister’s case, from which direction had he come?”
She tried to think. “I don’t know. I mean, he was standing on the stairs when I came out from the bar, so I can’t be sure.”
“The stairs near the bar.”
And the fuse box, Roxy thought. “Yes, but everyone had access to that—”
He cut her off: “And where did he go between the time you finished talking to him and the time that Jed Moody began to play?”
“Um, again, I’m not a hundred percent certain.”
“Oh, your memory suddenly fails you now,” Quick said, and again Wiles ignored him, keeping his eyes on Roxy.
She tried to ignore him too, but was feeling increasingly riled. Quick sounded more like a prosecutor than an impartial investigator and she didn’t know what he was playing at. Was he angry that she had brought in her good friend to look over a case he’d clearly botched up? Was this more about his close relationship with the Moodys? Or was he always like this?
She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts again. “Let’s see, Govinda called us over to dance and Sam said something about hating hippies and then went inside, to the bar I assume. I went to the bonfire—but did not dance.” She glanced at the recorder, not sure why she needed that to go on the record. “I can’t be certain where Sam went after he went inside. I did see him in the crowd after Jed was killed though.”
Wiles indicated some papers on the desk. “I have a witness who says Sam Forrest assaulted you the day you arrived. At the Goddess Café.”
“Whoah!” she sat forward in her chair. “Sam did not assault me. He was just angry, had obviously heard I was writing Jed’s autobiography and wondered how I could do it.”
“He thinks Mr. Moody had something to do with his sister’s death.”
It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. “Well, maybe. He seems to think it was never investigated properly.”
Now it was her turn to glare at Quick, but he stared back, unruffled. It was clear he was not apologising for that.
She turned back to Wiles. “Sam is angry about what happened to his sister and it’s completely understandable. She was barely twenty-one and having an affair with a married man, twice her age. He introduced them, he feels some guilt.”
“You’re talking about Jed Moody?” Wiles said.
“Yes. Jed and Sunny had been seeing each other before she died. But it wasn’t just the affair. Sam was upset that her death didn’t seem to make any difference to Jed, life kept moving on for him.”
“Upset enough to kill him?” Quick asked.
Roxy shook her head emphatically without shifting her gaze from Wiles. “He’s angry, sure, but I’m not convinced he’s a killer. He’s just not the type.”
“So that little bust up with Macker Maroney at the Goddess Café the other day, that was just friendly banter, was it?” asked Quick.
Roxy swept her eyes to him. “Actually, Macker started that. He was saying some unforgiveable things about Sam’s dead sister. What would you do?”
He ignored this and asked, “Is it true you’re having an affair with Sam Forrest?”
Yet again Roxy was caught off guard. She blushed beetroot red and stared at him, aghast. “No! Who told you that?”
Quick was smirking now. He’d got the reaction he was after. “You were seen entering his property on several occasions. You stayed over one night.”
“I was there looking after his dog while you had him locked up in jail!” My God, she thought, the gossip here is extraordinary! Turning back to Wiles, Roxy took a few deep breaths. “Look, Sam and I have become friends, that’s all there is to it. He helped me get away from that sleazebag photographer the other day and we got chatting about his sister. I told him Gilda might be able to help, and that’s what she’s doing. That’s all there is to this.” When Wiles didn’t say anything, she added, “I don’t know whether Sam Forrest had a hand in Jed Moody’s murder. Intuitively, I doubt it, but I guess you guys will find out one way or another. I’m just telling you what I feel and what I know. That’s all. Unlike some people, this is not personal to me.”
Now it was her turn to stare accusatorially at Quick.
Wiles had had enough of all of this. He switched off the recorder and got to his feet. “Thank you for your time, Ms Parker. I trust you’ll still be around, should we have further questions?”
She assured him she would, then also stood up and made her way to the door. As she opened it, she glanced back to find Quick looking at Wiles with a smug look on his face. Whatever his agenda, she realised then that his little performance was all about discrediting her in the eyes of the senior cop and, most likely, discrediting her friend Gilda by association. She just hoped Wiles was smart enough to see through it.
In any case, it sent a small shiver down Roxy’s spine. Whether Sam was guilty of Jed’s murder or not, it was clear Detective Sergeant Quick was determined to place the blame firmly at his feet. The question was, why? Was this simply about a bruised ego after failing Sam’s sister so badly, or was there something deeper and more sinister behind it?