followed them?
But realistically, he told himself, how likely was that? He heard one of the attackers exhort the other to hurry; he knew that the mall was filled with CCTV cameras, so surely, they would not have loitered around, guaranteeing being picked up by a camera.
And in any case, how would they have known he was in the stall? They certainly didn’t check any of the doors.
But looking at a worse case scenario: if they had followed Chrissy and Louise, or even Will himself, all the way to the Village, why just ransack the house? Surely it would be Will himself they would be looking for, to silence him.
He swallowed, and finished his coffee.
No, he decided, it must just be one terrible coincidence.
But if it was a random break-in, as the police seemed to believe, why not take more than they did? A few pieces of cheap jewellery, and some cash Chrissy had left out on a shelf. There was plenty of other stuff they could have taken: the amount of kit in Jake’s room was worth hundreds at least. And that theory of them being disturbed, Will just didn’t buy it: Chrissy said that when she got home, there was no sign of anybody. Surely if she had disturbed them, they would either have been rushing down the stairs as she opened the door, or still climbing over the fence in the back yard.
‘Good morning.’ May’s voice pulled him out of his reverie.
‘Morning,’ he replied.
‘The subway was really busy today,’ May said, taking off her coat and switching on her computer. ‘Do you need a coffee or something?’
‘No, I’m good, thanks.’ Will stepped over and pushed his door to as he spoke. ‘Catch you later; just have a few things to so here.’
As he sat down behind his desk, he could hear May talking to somebody who had just arrived. He heard a man’s voice, but couldn’t tell if it was Eddie who had just arrived, or Dan. It was probably Eddie: Dan was sure to be out somewhere, arranging some big contract.
So, they probably weren’t disturbed. They just weren’t in the house for very long.
They were looking for something specific.
But what?
Will swung his chair away from the desk and looked out of the window again. Not down at the street this time, just at what he could see of the skyline. He recalled the guy half-sitting in the men’s room. He had been clutching something, hadn’t he? What was it? A plastic card, white with edging. And something one printed on it. What was it: some kind of bank card, or an ID card? It must have some significance; otherwise why was he grasping it so tightly?
Surely his attackers didn’t think Will took it?
Will sat back in his chair. He rested his head on the back of the chair, closing his eyes. So, if that theory is right, this little plastic card holds the key to why the guy was attacked - no, murdered - Sunday afternoon, and why his house was ransacked yesterday. They weren’t after him - it was this little card, whatever it was.
Should he go to the police? He tapped the side of his chair. No - that would lead them to infer that he had tampered with a crime scene, and get him into trouble. Even if he had taken the card. And it was just a wild theory, anyway.
But the two attackers wouldn’t know that he hadn’t taken it.
He opened his eyes and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk.
If they didn’t know for sure he hadn’t taken it, and didn’t find it in the house yesterday, then they might try again. And this time one of his family might be in the house.
Will tapped his chin with his fist. He needed to see what this card was about before they came back.
ELEVEN
The General Manager of the Columbus Circle mall seemed to have a habit of clearing his throat every time before he spoke. An annoying habit, thought Detective Roberts; unless the guy just had a cough. She suspected he was not sick, and it was just a little habit as it was always a delicate little hem accompanied by an elaborate movement of his arm as he put a hand in front of
But realistically, he told himself, how likely was that? He heard one of the attackers exhort the other to hurry; he knew that the mall was filled with CCTV cameras, so surely, they would not have loitered around, guaranteeing being picked up by a camera.
And in any case, how would they have known he was in the stall? They certainly didn’t check any of the doors.
But looking at a worse case scenario: if they had followed Chrissy and Louise, or even Will himself, all the way to the Village, why just ransack the house? Surely it would be Will himself they would be looking for, to silence him.
He swallowed, and finished his coffee.
No, he decided, it must just be one terrible coincidence.
But if it was a random break-in, as the police seemed to believe, why not take more than they did? A few pieces of cheap jewellery, and some cash Chrissy had left out on a shelf. There was plenty of other stuff they could have taken: the amount of kit in Jake’s room was worth hundreds at least. And that theory of them being disturbed, Will just didn’t buy it: Chrissy said that when she got home, there was no sign of anybody. Surely if she had disturbed them, they would either have been rushing down the stairs as she opened the door, or still climbing over the fence in the back yard.
‘Good morning.’ May’s voice pulled him out of his reverie.
‘Morning,’ he replied.
‘The subway was really busy today,’ May said, taking off her coat and switching on her computer. ‘Do you need a coffee or something?’
‘No, I’m good, thanks.’ Will stepped over and pushed his door to as he spoke. ‘Catch you later; just have a few things to so here.’
As he sat down behind his desk, he could hear May talking to somebody who had just arrived. He heard a man’s voice, but couldn’t tell if it was Eddie who had just arrived, or Dan. It was probably Eddie: Dan was sure to be out somewhere, arranging some big contract.
So, they probably weren’t disturbed. They just weren’t in the house for very long.
They were looking for something specific.
But what?
Will swung his chair away from the desk and looked out of the window again. Not down at the street this time, just at what he could see of the skyline. He recalled the guy half-sitting in the men’s room. He had been clutching something, hadn’t he? What was it? A plastic card, white with edging. And something one printed on it. What was it: some kind of bank card, or an ID card? It must have some significance; otherwise why was he grasping it so tightly?
Surely his attackers didn’t think Will took it?
Will sat back in his chair. He rested his head on the back of the chair, closing his eyes. So, if that theory is right, this little plastic card holds the key to why the guy was attacked - no, murdered - Sunday afternoon, and why his house was ransacked yesterday. They weren’t after him - it was this little card, whatever it was.
Should he go to the police? He tapped the side of his chair. No - that would lead them to infer that he had tampered with a crime scene, and get him into trouble. Even if he had taken the card. And it was just a wild theory, anyway.
But the two attackers wouldn’t know that he hadn’t taken it.
He opened his eyes and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk.
If they didn’t know for sure he hadn’t taken it, and didn’t find it in the house yesterday, then they might try again. And this time one of his family might be in the house.
Will tapped his chin with his fist. He needed to see what this card was about before they came back.
ELEVEN
The General Manager of the Columbus Circle mall seemed to have a habit of clearing his throat every time before he spoke. An annoying habit, thought Detective Roberts; unless the guy just had a cough. She suspected he was not sick, and it was just a little habit as it was always a delicate little hem accompanied by an elaborate movement of his arm as he put a hand in front of
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