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That was news to her, but he’d never seemed like a military man. “He’s intelligent. Had a good education. Went to university in London. Speaks at least two languages. He was some kind of businessman I think. He’s compassionate. Funny. Keeps himself clean, he’s incredibly healthy. He meditates. He doesn’t take welfare. He does odd jobs for cash. He reads.” She stopped because her voice warbled on reads, she’d been going to say classics, and Hugh was looking at her strangely.
“You do know him, well.” Roger said, choosing the descriptor carefully.
“It was Foley’s job to get him to abandon the cave,” Gabriella waved a hand as if that was of no consequence. “I guess we’re lucky she has such a good insight.”
“But he’s still living in the cave, isn’t he?” said Roger.
“Unfortunately, yes,” said Gabriella.
“Yeees,” said Hugh and his mouth flatlined in annoyance. An expression Foley hoped Gabriella had not yet learned to mark. “But after the second petition and the sculpture walk, there was no further incentive to move him on.”
“Well, that’s not the whole truth,” said Gabriella. “It’s just that it may have reignited the issue, what with the action group and Walter Lam being so passionate and vocal.”
“Oh that bloody Lam character and his cooked-up action plan.” Roger made his chair rock. “I’m grateful you’ve kept him out of my hair, Hugh.”
Gabriella was the one who needed to be grateful Hugh had kept it from Roger that Walter was council’s own Frankenstein.
“Right so, what do we know about the victim? She’s not a local is she?”
“Not a local, a casual staff member of one of the catering firms supplying the sculpture walk,” said Hugh.
“Is there any liability for us here?”
Hugh shook his head. “No, but legal are briefed.”
“What are we saying to the media?” said Roger.
“Nothing,” said Hugh, overly loudly, but to cut across whatever Gabriella was about to say. She pouted. He went on, “There’s no reason for us to have a voice in this. It’s a police matter.”
Roger acknowledged that. “What are we doing about that damn cave?”
“We’ll clean it out and board it up,” said Hugh. He looked to Foley. He didn’t need permission, but he wanted her agreement. She nodded. She should’ve done her job more effectively to begin with and maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
Roger stood. “What’s our position if, when they charge him?” He looked at Hugh, so Hugh answered.
“Still a police matter.”
He looked at Foley. “Do you think he did it?”
She felt the blood drain from her face.
“Goodness me, Foley, you look dreadful. You shouldn’t be here.” Roger went to the sideboard and poured a glass of water, Hugh and Gabriella stared at her, distrust in Gabriella’s eyes, concern in Hugh’s. Roger brought the water over. “I shouldn’t have asked you that question.”
She took the glass but didn’t drink. She had to say it, if she said it, it would be real. Everyone was still looking expectantly at her. “I think. I think—”
“Oh, he had to have done it. They have pretty damning evidence,” said Gabriella. “The victim is the one who deserves our support.”
Roger didn’t smile at Gabriella this time. “Foley?”
“I think it’s possible. He’s not a violent man. Apart from his attachment to the cave he doesn’t present as unstable. But he’s hiding from something so I.” She couldn’t say it. Gabriella was likely right, and Drum was guilty about something, but if she said it, she was giving away all hope. She put the glass to her lips and Roger put his hand on her shoulder, a gentle touch, something like her dad would do.
“I’d like us to be right on top of this. Go home, Foley, get some rest.”
“I’m fine, really. I’d like to go hang out at the station, if that’s okay.”
“Not your job,” said Gabriella.
“Good idea,” said Roger. He looked at Hugh. “Keep me informed.” Then he made for the door.
