Page 117 of Too Close To Home

“Your boss?”

“The bosses.”

“So…maintenance supervisors.” Harrison quirked an eyebrow. “The same department Mr Fisher works in? Emily Fisher’s father.”

Andy said nothing.

Harrison waited. Letting it stretch.

Then he continued, “In your previous account, you said you had one pint at the King’s Arms then left.”

“Aye.”

Harrison slid a still across the table. “However, the CCTV sees you ordering a second one.”

Andy looked down at the image. Said nothing.

“You also stated you didn’t know or speak to Emily Fisher.” Harrison slid another image across. The still of Andy at the bar, talking to Emily. “Can you confirm that is you?”

Andy looked down at it. Shrugged.

“Can you speak for the recording, please?”

“Looks like me.”

Harrison nodded. “So you spoke with Emily Fisher?”

“Don’t remember I did.”

“What did you say to her?”

Andy scrubbed a hand down his face. “I said, I don’t remember.”

The solicitor leaned forward. “My client is not obliged to speculate about conversations he cannot recall.”

Harrison gestured to Calder and the DS turned the laptop around, pressing play on the retrieved footage. Andy and his solicitor watched as on the screen, Andy ordered a second pint, then looked for something. Then came his brief exchange with Emily before the band arrived, and Andy made his way to the toilet.

Calder paused the footage.

Harrison cocked his head. “What were you looking for, Andy?”

Andy rubbed the back of his neck. “My phone.”

Calder made a note.

“What for?” Harrison asked.

“To pay.”

“Except, you already told us your phone had been smashed at work.”

Andy said nothing.

“Can you explain that to me?”

Andy said nothing.

Harrison held his gaze. Silence was a suspect’s right, but that didn’t stop it being frustrating. Sometimes it was tactical. Sometimes it was fear. Sometimes it was simply a man hoping the questions would eventually stop.