Chapter 122 (1/2)
”In the end I - I took him down.”
Clark's eyebrows rise in surprise. ”Took him down?”
”My father is ex-army. Hyde . . . um, touched me, and I know how to defend myself.”
Christian glances at me with a brief look of pride.
”I see.” Clark leans back on the sofa, sighing heavily.
”Have you spoken to any of Hyde's former PAs?” Christian asks, almost genially.
”Yes, we have. But the truth is we can't get any of his assistants to talk to us. They all say he was an exemplary boss, even though none of them lasted more than three months.”
”We've had that problem, too,” Christian murmurs.
Oh? I gape at Christian, as does Detective Clark.
”My security chief. He's interviewed Hyde's past five PAs.”
”And why's that?”
Christian gives him a steely glare. ”Because my wife worked for him, and I run security checks on anyone my wife works with.”
Detective Clark flushes. I shrug apologetically at him with a welcome-to-my-world smile.
”I see,” Clark murmurs. ”I think there's more to this than meets the eye, Mr. Grey. We are conducting a more thorough search of his apartment tomorrow, so maybe something will present itself then. Though by all accounts he hasn't lived there for some time.”
”You've searched already?”
”Yes. We're doing it again. A fingertip search this time.”
”You've still not charged him with the attempted murder of Ros Bailey and myself?” Christian says softly.
What?
”We're hoping to find more evidence in regard to the sabotage of your aircraft, Mr. Grey. We need more than a partial print, and while he's in custody we can build a case.”
”Is this all you came down here for?”
Clark bristles. ”Yes, Mr. Grey, it is, unless you've had any further thoughts about the note?”
Note? Which note?
”No. I told you. It means nothing to me.” Christian cannot hide his irritation. ”And I don't see why we couldn't have done this over the phone.”
”I think I told you I prefer a hands-on approach. And I'm visiting my greataunt who lives in Portland - two birds . . . one stone.” Clark remains stony faced and unfazed by my husband's bad temper.
”Well, if we're all done, I have work to attend to.” Christian stands and Detective Clark follows his cue.
”Thank you for your time, Mrs. Grey,” he says politely. I nod.
”Mr. Grey.” Christian opens the door, and Detective Clark leaves. I sag into the sofa.
”Can you believe that ass**le?” Christian explodes.
”Clark?”
”No. That f**ker, Hyde.”
”No, I can't.”
”What's his f**king game?” Christian whispers through gritted teeth.
”I don't know. Do you think Clark believed me?”
”Of course he did. He knows Hyde is a f**ked-up ass**le.”
”You're very sweary.”