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"Open up!" he barked, his voice slicing through the residual hum of the engine.
There was a moment's hesitation, a brief standoff between silence and action, before the latch clinked, and the door swung outward. A blast of cabin air rushed past Finn, tinged with the scent of apprehension and expensive cologne.
"Hello there," Finn said, head thrust into the artificial calm of the cabin, eyes locking onto the figure strapped into one of the plush seats. The man’s face was a landscape of worry, creased with the anticipation of a confrontation he no doubt wished to avoid.
"Going somewhere, Mr. Reinhardt? And without saying bye, too." Finn's words were edged with a grin, not out of amusement but as a display of power—the cat that cornered the mouse reveling in the final play.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Finn knew he was exhausted, still in a weakened state, but his mind was alive with the thought that he had the killer, and potentially one of Vilne's associates, in his grasp at last.
The fluorescent lights in the interview room at the Hertfordshire constabulary buzzed with a muted persistence, casting a clinical pallor over the scene. Finn sat with an unfaltering gaze fixed on Arron Reinhardt. The man was the picture of composed wealth in his tailored suit, his posture relaxed in a manner that seemed studied and deliberate. Across the table, Amelia Winters mirrored Finn's intensity, her sharp eyes never wavering from the suspect.
"Mr. Reinhardt," Finn finally broke the silence, his voice steady and low, "you seem awfully comfortable for a man in your position."
Arron's lips twitched into a half-smile, his fingers interlaced on the table in front of him. "Well, Agent Wright, comfort is a state of mind, isn't it?" he replied smoothly.
"Is it now?" Amelia chimed in, her tone cool but edged with steel. "I'd imagine comfort is hard to come by under scrutiny for serious crimes."
Finn leaned back in his chair, his mind racing through the implications of Arron's nonchalance. Was it innocence or arrogance that kept the man so unnervingly calm? He glanced briefly at the recorder, its red light a silent sentinel, capturing every nuance of the conversation.
"Look," Arron said, his annoyance beginning to crack his polished veneer, "if you're not going to ask me any questions, may I be excused? Time is money, after all."
"Money..." Finn mused aloud, letting the word hang in the air as he locked eyes with Arron once again. "That seems to be a recurring theme with you, Mr. Reinhardt."
Amelia leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "We have plenty of questions, Mr. Reinhardt," she assured him. "Just taking our time to ask the right ones."
"Time that I'm sure your expensive lawyer is billing you for by the minute," Finn added, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Indeed, they are," Arron conceded, his mask of composure slipping further. "So why don't we expedite this process, because as soon as my lawyer is here, you'll be the one in trouble."
"Expedite..." Finn echoed thoughtfully, the gears turning in his head. He was aware of the delicate dance of interrogation, each step measured and precise. He knew the value of patience, of letting the silence do the heavy lifting. But more than that, he understood the power of the unspoken – the threat of what remained unsaid.
"Patience, Mr. Reinhardt," Amelia said, her voice a calm counterpart to Finn's tacit tension. "All in due time. I think your legal representation is heading from London, so we just need to wait, unless you feel confident enough to proceed on your own."
Finn loved that approach. It was a challenge to a man who clearly had a rather unhinged ego.
"Fine," Arron huffed, shifting in his seat, the first clear sign of discomfort since he had walked into the room. "But let's get on with it, shall we?"
"Let's," Finn agreed, his eyes never leaving the suspect's face. In that moment, he felt the familiar surge of adrenaline, the quiet thrill of the chase. It was a feeling he had known many times before, a sensation that reminded him why he did this work, despite everything it had cost him. And as the tape continued to run, recording every syllable and sigh, Finn knew that the game was afoot, and he was exactly where he needed to be.
"Recognize this, do you?" Finn's voice was clipped as he slid a series of glossy photographs across the smooth surface of the interview table. They landed in front of Arron Reinhardt with the precision of dealt cards. The images were stark, revealing the plush interior of a private jet, all cream leather and polished wood.
"Of course," Arron replied, his tone dry, barely glancing at the first photo before flicking it aside with a manicured finger. "It's hard to forget a G650 when you've spent the better part of six hours in one."
"Indeed," Finn murmured, pressing on. "Then perhaps you'll find it peculiar that your pilot seemed to have an aversion to communicating with the control tower during your little jaunt."
"Shouldn't you be asking him that?" Arron retorted smoothly, though Finn caught the briefest flicker of annoyance in his gaze.
Before Arron could further deflect, Amelia leaned forward, her movement deliberate, introducing a new photograph into the interrogation's delicate ballet. This one showed the cargo hold, utilitarian and cold, a stark contrast to the luxury of the cabin.
"Does this look familiar too?" she asked, her eyes sharp as flint, watching for any telltale fracture in Arron's facade
He took a longer look this time, his fingers pausing mid-twitch. "It's a cargo hold," he said finally, a touch of disdain creeping into his voice. "They're all quite similar."
Finn noted the slight tightening around Arron's eyes, the way his fingers betrayed a tremor as they rested on the table. He sensed the shift in the room's atmosphere, like the charged silence before lightning strikes. Every detail was a puzzle piece, and Finn knew that patience was necessary to place them correctly.
"Similar, maybe," Finn agreed, but his thoughts weaved through the facts they already knew, connecting dots that Arron hoped would remain disparate. "But not many have the exact configuration we found on this particular flight. It's... unique."
