TRACE - CSI Reilly Steel #5 (Forensic novel Police Procedural Series) by Casey Hill

it’s worth going over. Perhaps if we re-interview, follow up with some of the witnesses, someone might remember something.’
    ‘I don’t want it all stirred up again. It would kill my wife - she’s still trying to come to terms with the latest find. We need something definite, not the probing of old wounds. Bloody hell, Steel, don’t you have enough to do anyway?’
    ‘I promised Lucy,’ she said stubbornly.
    Jack Gorman sighed. If he had an Achilles heel, it was Lucy. He wanted his remaining daughter to be happy, so much so that he had indulged her most dangerous wish: to work in law enforcement.
    ‘If you must,’ he said, and she couldn't contain her surprise. Obviously the new find had affected him as much as it had his wife and Lucy. ‘But try not to step on toes. And I don’t want you speaking to my wife either.’
    ‘I just want to help Jack, not interfere,’ she told him softly. ‘You never know there might be something, something small that might help…’
    ‘I know that,’ he mumbled, refusing to meet her gaze. ‘My worry is that all of this is sending us back to square one, back to that terrible place. Just when we thought we were moving on.’
     
     
    Chris and Kennedy were about to begin the interview with Blair Burke. His solicitor had since shown up and made a fuss and if they weren’t going to file a charge, he had told them, they had better let his client go.
    So a bedraggled Burke was brought into the interrogation room at Harcourt Street. Even his solicitor seemed to balk at the foul smell emanating from him. He had been sweating heavily, the stains under his arms almost reaching the waist of his pants. Chris tried not to breathe through his nose. It was hard to believe that someone as attractive and successful as Jennifer Armstrong should want to have an affair with this man. It was hardly surprising that his wife appeared to detest him.
    ‘I didn’t do anything,’ Burke slurred as soon as he sat down. ‘I loved her.’
    His solicitor bristled. ‘It’s best if you don’t say anything, actually, Blair. I’ll handle it.’
    ‘How long did your relationship with Ms Armstrong go on for?’ asked Kennedy.
    ‘I was waiting for her all my life,’ said Burke. ‘Forty three years.’
    ‘How long were you having a sexual relationship with her?’
    ‘That’s none of your goddamn business! Get the hell away from me, pigs!’
    Chris could already tell that this would be useless. They would have to let Burke go, interview him another time, when they could catch him sober. His solicitor seemed to be at a loss too, frantically whispering in his ear.
    Kennedy tried one last time. ‘How long were you seeing Ms Armstrong?’
    Burke sprung up, took a hold of his chair and swung it at Kennedy. For a big man he ducked surprisingly easily but as the chair completed its arc, it hit the solicitor in the face. Blood poured forth almost immediately. The man demanded to be let out at once.
    ‘Find yourself another lackey,’ he hissed at Burke through the blood coming from his nose. ‘I’ll send you a final bill.’
    Chris was almost relieved at the debacle. At least now they could book Burke for assault and keep him for questioning until he sobered up.
    ‘Do you really think this is our guy?’ Kennedy asked him.
    ‘Could be,’ he said. ‘But he seems too stupid, too volatile. Every indicator we have shows that this wasn’t a crime of passion. It was so well planned. This guy looks like he couldn’t plan getting up in the morning.’
    ‘And,’ Kennedy pointed out, ‘La Boca isn’t one of the restaurants that imports or uses Joker Fruit.’
    ‘Doesn’t mean he couldn’t get hold of it,’ said Chris. ‘He’s got the right connections.’
    ‘Let’s interview him in the morning,’ Kennedy said yawning. ‘I’m sorry that someone had to get their head busted in, but at least Burke will be sober enough to answer our questions.’
    ‘Tomorrow, then,’ Chris agreed. ‘Bright and