Three hours, seven cups of coffee and several buns later, Sykes finally arrived. He closed the door and leaned against it.
He glared at Buteske. “Get anything meaningful out of this clown?”
“Not really. Adamant there was a body, he was tied up, but I’m not so sure about how he got free. Still, there’s nothing conclusive to tie him to anything but breaking and entering.”
“Right. We’ll talk more about this later.”
Buteske stood, nodded, and left the room.
When we were alone, Sykes glared at me for a full two or three minutes. Then he said, “No body, no trace of a body, or anything that would convince me there was a body in that room. I should charge you with wasting police time.”
“He was there.”
“So you say. Go home. Stop meddling in police business. Don’t let me catch you anywhere near the Outtell Finance Company, or any of the partners, their wives, or their staff. Your business with them is done. Finished. Is that clear?”
Harry thought it best to agree, and sort of the details later.
He opened the door.
“Get out of my sight, Walthenson, and don't darken my door again.”
“What about Jeremy Brightwater?"
I could see he was considering ignoring me. Perhaps the lesser of the evils was to just tell me.
"We're looking for him. Considering the attrition rate for those who manage Outtel, I don't fancy our chances. He's not at home, and his housekeeper said he was away on business."
"Sounds a bit suspicious to me."
"It can sound whatever it likes. You keep your nose out of this. It's police business now. Not yours."
Unless, Harry thought, he found the mysterious woman in the red dress and got an explanation out of her.
© Charles Heath 2016-2018
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