The phone rang on Harry Holt’s desk. On the next desk down, Maxwell looked up, irritated by the interruption. He chose to ignore the phone; seconds later it went quiet.
Seconds after that, it rang again.
Brown’s eyes conveyed contempt. ‘You going to get that this time?’ he said.
Maxwell didn’t move. ‘If it’s important, they’ll call back.’
‘I think you’ll find they just did!’
Shaking his head, Brown got up and answered the phone himself. He didn’t immediately recognize the caller but the urgency in the voice of a young PC from Area Command was enough to raise his curiosity. He was desperate to speak to the receiver.
‘Whoa, slow down.’ Anticipating a long story, Brown grabbed a pen and paper, took a seat. ‘Harry’s in the bog, mate. You’ll have to make do with me. DC Brown, how can I help?’
The caller cleared his throat. ‘I’ve been given an action to interview a Mrs Close at Court Mews apartment block. D’you know anything about that?’
‘No. But did you?’
‘What?
‘Trace the witness!’
‘Oh, right, yeah I did. Mrs Close told me she travelled up in the lift with Felicity Wood at around eleven o’clock on Thursday night. As she searched for her key, the witness claims she heard Wood’s high heels on the hallway above. Almost immediately, the lift went down, then came straight back up and she heard someone knock on the door to Wood’s apartment. She definitely had company on the night of the murder!’
Brown stopped writing. He leaned back in Harry’s chair, crossed one leg over the other and poured cold water over the revelation: ‘Doesn’t necessarily mean Wood was lying. Maybe someone got the wrong door? It happens.’
‘Don’t think so. Close was adamant the lift didn’t go down again.’
Brown sat up straight, pressed the caps lock on the computer keyboard and entered the name: FELICITY WOOD. Immediately, a transcript of Wood’s original statement popped up on the screen. As he studied the data, he thought back to a conversation he’d had with Daniels earlier in the day. She’d had a gut feeling that the solicitor wasn’t on the level – it looked as though she was being proved right.
‘OK, thanks, leave it with me.’ Brown put the phone down just as Gormley walked in. ‘You seen the boss, Hank?’
A roar went past the window as the Toyota sped away.
‘I think you’ll find she just left,’ Gormley said.