Page 53 of Two Kinds of Stranger (Eddie Flynn #9)

The line moved quickly enough, and Flynn dumped his bag on the security belt, and as he went through the body scanner it beeped, but the officers waved him on.

They knew him. He retrieved the bag from the belt after it was scanned, just as Logan put the contents of his pockets in a security tray and stepped, silently, through the scanner. No beeps. No alarms.

Flynn moved toward the bank of elevators. Logan gathered his stuff and followed. By the time Logan turned the corner to the elevators Flynn was just getting into one.

Logan followed.

Flynn pressed a floor button. Logan put his hands in his pockets, and turned to face the doors as he reached the back of the elevator.

There they stood. Side by side. Flynn’s head was down. The pen was still moving across and under his fingers. Logan could tell Flynn was in deep thought.

The only sound was the doors rolling shut, then the dull whump of the gears engaging and the counterweight pulling the old elevator slowly upwards.

‘Cold today,’ said Logan.

Flynn caught the pen in a dead stop, and raised his head toward Logan.

‘Sure is,’ he said with a sigh, then looked away, facing the doors.

‘Are you a lawyer?’ asked Logan.

‘For my sins,’ said Flynn, nodding, but the tone he used brought no humor to those words. It was more like a confession.

‘Why? Do you need a lawyer?’ asked Flynn.

‘No, at least not right now. I’m just spectating. The TikTok murders.’

Flynn didn’t reply for a moment. The elevator filled only with the sound of its old gears as they whined and growled.

Then he looked at Logan again, said, ‘Have we met before?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Logan, holding Flynn’s gaze, fighting down the electric buzz of fear building in his guts.

‘Are you a reporter?’ asked Flynn.

‘No, I just follow the big trials. I like true-crime cases. I’m thinking of doing a podcast some day.’

‘You sure we haven’t met? You kinda look familiar. I have a good memory for faces,’ said Flynn.

‘Nah, I think I would remember,’ said Logan.

Flynn nodded.

The elevator began to slow.

Logan’s heartbeat accelerated. His face felt flushed, and he realized he was holding his breath.

Flynn stared at him.

Then he looked away as the doors opened.

‘After you,’ said Flynn.

‘No, please,’ said Logan, ‘after you. I insist.’

Flynn stepped forward, stopped.

But just for half a second – then he left the elevator.

Logan exhaled, shook his hands out to get rid of the tension, then followed Flynn.

He turned the corner to the main hallway where the entrances to the courtrooms lined the left-hand side of the hall, flanked by benches for witnesses and those attending court.

Flynn disappeared through a set of double doors.

Logan waited a beat before entering.

This had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have come.

He had never attended the trials of those suspects toward whom he had driven the police’s attention.

Sometimes they were convicted, sometimes they were never even charged – they just lived their lives under suspicion.

It was all about throwing the police’s resources and suspicions and attentions toward someone else.

Someone other than a complete stranger. The more he did this, the better he got at framing a patsy for his crimes.

Sometimes he didn’t have to do much. He could be subtle.

And he had always kept an eye from a distance, because, in truth, back then he didn’t have much to lose. He was alone. Lost in a spiral of murder.

Now, he had everything to lose. And he wanted to, had to , make sure that Elly Parker was convicted. He needed to know that this chapter of his life was done. Case closed. Over.

Finished.

Logan needed to move on, with Grace.

This was all for her, now. This last case.

Logan walked into the courtroom and saw that everyone was already seated.

The case had drawn a crowd, and there were no more available spaces on the benches in the public gallery.

There were a few chairs arranged behind the last row of benches.

Extra chairs brought in for the crowd at the last minute.

Two were empty. Logan took one of them, closest to the aisle.

As he sat down, he saw Flynn up front at the defense table, embracing Elly Parker.

Logan dipped his head, rubbed at his brow, just in case she turned round and scanned the gallery.

She was the only person who could recognize him, and he had to be careful to hide his face from her.

When he looked back, he saw Flynn talking to the investigator, Lake.

They were whispering. Lake nodded, then left the defense table and walked down the central aisle of the courtroom.

Logan dipped his head, took his phone from his pocket and brought the screen to life, just so that he could have an excuse for looking away from Lake.

He heard Lake’s feet on the tiled floor, walking past his row, and then the sound of the courtroom doors being flung open, which allowed the low hum of noise from the hallway to invade the courtroom until the doors swung closed again.

Logan put his phone away, and paid attention as the judge came into court, followed by the jury.

The prosecutor, Bernice Mazur, rose and began to speak.

First, she showed the jury the viral video, where Elly had discovered her husband, James, in bed with Harriet, her friend.

‘This video has been viewed millions of times, all around the world. Imagine that, ladies and gentlemen,’ said the prosecutor, ‘the worst betrayal anyone can ever experience, and it’s played out for the entire world to see.

Imagine the humiliation. Just for a second.

What happens then is that two of the victims in this case, James and Harriet, begin to be targeted by the defendant’s social-media followers.

Both of them lose their jobs, their careers, their friends.

And then, two weeks later, the night of the murders, we have phone records to show the defendant called James multiple times that night.

It is the prosecution’s case that some time earlier that day the defendant managed to poison the victims by placing a toxic substance in their water bottles.

The defendant called James that night, for the first time since she’d discovered the affair.

James didn’t pick up the phone. The reason the defendant called was to make sure that her plan had worked.

To make sure the defendants were dead. They had been given a lethal dose of tetrahydrozoline, which induced a fatal cardiac arrest.

‘Now, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, in cases like this, cases of sophisticated, premediated poisoning, it is standard police procedure to look into all deaths of those people close to the defendant, to see if any of them were in any way suspicious or had a similar cause of death. You will hear Detective Bill Sacks testify that he found an identical cause of death for a person related to the defendant. It was the defendant’s father, Stewart Yorke.

Detective Sacks will testify that Mr. Yorke’s body was exhumed, and tests were carried out by our forensic pathologist. We intend to prove to you that those results show that the defendant poisoned her father with tetrahydrozoline.

Not only that, but we will show you proof that the defendant had large quantities of this poisonous substance.

In fact, we can show you a video where she boasts about buying it.

The defendant was in financial peril. She had borrowed money from her late father, and after she had murdered him she inherited his home and sold it, solving all of her financial problems.

‘By the end of this case, members of the jury, you will have no problem finding the defendant guilty on three counts of premeditated murder. Of that, there is no reasonable doubt.’