Page 2 of Twisted Lies

‘No, I’m not kidding, Stone,’ he responded.

Kim was tempted to make use of the seat he sometimes offered but she rarely took, but his last statement to her warranted it on this occasion.

She forced herself to remain standing. Her last hope was that she’d misheard.

‘Surely this is some kind of joke, because I’d swear you just said you’d sanctioned TracyFrost spending a day with us, which obviously would mean you’d gone and lost your—’

‘We owe her, Stone,’ he said, cutting her off just in time.

Yes, she knew that. Only a couple of weeks ago, the reporter for theDudley Starhad helped them make contact with a killer who had kidnapped a six-year-old boy. She understood that some kind of thanks was in order.

‘Fine, I’ll buy the woman a coffee, take her for lunch. You could send flowers, but allowing her unrestricted access to us for an entire day is nothing short o—’

‘It’s not unrestricted. She is to remain with you and Bryant at all times.’

‘Yeah, that helps,’ Kim said as he destroyed the cunning plan of sitting her beside Stacey while she filed police statements.

‘Stone, do I need to remind you that because of her co-operation a little boy’s life was spared?’

Kim tried to quell the irritation that formed in her stomach.

‘To be fair, sir, I think we had a little something to do with that too.’

‘It’s our job; it isn’t hers.’

Good point but she wasn’t done yet.

‘But just imagine the article she could write. It could seriously damage the image and reputation of th—’

‘Stone, she can only write what she sees, so I have total trust in you to demonstrate that we are driven, compassionate and professional.’

‘You do?’ Kim asked, surprised. Maybe she should send Frost out with Bryant alone.

‘And I’ve arranged with her editor to see any article before it’s published.’

Of course he had. She should have known he wouldn’t allow Frost total control over what got printed; in gaining that control, he had removed her last argument.

She glanced at the stress ball that sat to the side of his mouse mat. He still used it in her presence sometimes, but not as often as he used to.

‘Take it,’ he said, following her gaze. ‘It’s going to be an interesting day.’

‘Why did you choose… oh, hang on, I know your game.’

‘I have no game,’ he said, feigning ignorance. ‘It’s a slow day. You have no major case on right now, so it works well for everyone.’

The bitter taste in her mouth was still hard to swallow, but it wasn’t choking her quite as much.

Her first visit of the day was to the family of Trisha Morley, a 27-year-old woman murdered by her husband just over a year earlier.

Nick Morley was a barrister who fought human rights cases and won almost every case he touched, earning him the nickname of Nick Midas. Building a case against the enigmatic man had been difficult enough, despite finding body parts of Trisha on his property.

So impeccable was his image that, despite the forensic evidence, the trial had ended in a hung jury and a mistrial had been declared.

His new trial was due to begin the following week, and Kim wanted to assure the family they were confident of getting a conviction. And she wished that were true.

The man himself had employed an expensive PR firm, and barely a day went by without some kind of article appearing in the tabloids about his generosity and good work. They were peddling the public perception train for all it was worth, and although it shouldn’t make a difference, it did.

Neither the police force nor the family of Trisha Morley had the means to compete, but a mention of the victim’s suffering and that of her family in the local news wouldn’t hurt either, she realised, glancing at the wily old fox whose expression revealed nothing. He had certainly chosen his day well.