Read Online Coding Isis by David Roys - Free Book Online

entered and he looked guilty. This guy was definitely hiding something.
    ‘I think we need to talk,’ said Naylor.
    Chris said nothing, but his face told a story. He seemed to be trying to use his body to shield his phone. Naylor smiled to himself at the obvious body language. He might as well have said: please don’t check my phone, I don’t want you to listen to my messages .
     ‘It’s time for me to take your statement,’ said Naylor and as soon as the words were out he watched Chris relax. His posture changed, and the tension from his shoulders and neck seemed to lift. I don’t know what your hiding , he thought, but it’s not going to take me long to find out . ‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘Frank Myers needs his office back. I’m headed back to the station now. I could take you with me and we could get your statement out of the way. Is that OK with you?’
    Chris still looked relieved. Most people would object to going to the station as an escalation from just answering a few questions in the comfort of their own environment. If this guy was so happy to go to the station, there was probably something here he didn’t want Naylor to see.
    ‘Sure, why not, I’ve got nothing to hide,’ said Chris. He grabbed his jacket and headed toward the door. He looked relieved, almost happy. Naylor wondered about the phone. He would need to take a look at the missed calls and listen to the messages. He walked over to the desk and picked it up, and then called out to Chris.
    ‘Don’t forget your phone Chris.’
    Naylor watched the smile fall from Chris’s face like a kid that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You poor bastard , he thought. If you’re going to lie, you really need to get better at it.

NINE
     
    Chris walked alongside Naylor until they reached an old car. It was tan, in good condition, but dirty. It looked like a real gas guzzler. Some people would call it vintage, or a classic, but to him it was a relic of a bygone age and should be scrapped like a piece of junk. The inside of the car didn’t fare much better. Empty sandwich cartons, soda cans, and coffee cups littered the foot wells.
    ‘I’m sorry about the mess,’ said Naylor. He smiled. Chris figured he wasn’t really all that sorry. Chris climbed in among the garbage and fastened his seat belt. The engine started and ran with the deep throb of a V-8.
    Chris said, ‘So how did it go with the students? Did you get anything useful?’
    ‘No. Not really. I think you’re right about the girl. She had friends, and she was liked, but no one was close to her. Some of them said she seemed to spend a lot of time with you. I guess that was working on your project, right?’
    ‘That’s right. I told you about that,’ said Chris, but as soon as he said it, he realized how defensive his tone was. He needed to relax. He wasn’t in any trouble.
    Naylor said, ‘Did you ever meet outside of work?’
    Chris wondered whether to come clean about the phone message. He knew that everything would come out eventually, but deep down he hoped it would all somehow go away. There was no point in volunteering information, but he didn’t want to appear as though he had something to hide either. ‘Yes we met outside of work sometimes,’ he said. ‘She liked to run. So do I. We’d run in the park together but not regularly. Talk about work, brainstorm, you know?’
    There was no response from Naylor. He just drove. Chris tried to ignore the urge to say more. He listened to the sound of the car.
    They arrived at the station and Naylor pulled the heavy car into the yard. There were rows of police cruisers parked up. Change of shift he figured. They walked in to the station and Naylor went up to the desk, he turned to Chris and told him he’d try to get them a room, like they were just going to have a meeting. He’s being very low-key about this , thought Chris. Maybe he just wants to get my statement, maybe he really did need to give the office