Chapter Twenty

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"We need to organise another interview."

Bryce looked up at me, "Right now?"

"Yes right now!" I snapped, "Put down your crossword dammit! We need to do something."

He placed the newspaper don on his lap and tucked the pen into his pocket, "Rose, is this your way of telling me that you sulking period is over?"

"I haven't been sulking- I just missed-" I stopped myself. "Needless to say, the last thing we did was talk to a witness about the look of the killer, I couldn't bear to ask nearly as questions as I wanted to just because of how distraught she was!"

Bryce sighed, "I get that, look, who do you want to talk to?"

I paused, "Henry Murphy. After Edith, I kinda feel like I'm back to square one. I was so sure that it was her, yet you can say that after your interview with her, she was innocent. So that only leaves George Michaels and Henry Murphy. I've met George before, and if anyone was my second guess, it would be him. He's sneaky, unreasonably rude. He has no respect for anyone in this building, not even Mr MacPherson, which is one of the reasons why I thought that if it wasn't Edith, it was him."

Bryce's brows furrowed, "Have you ever met him?"

I nodded, "Only a few times. He's always talking to Emily, more recently than ever. OUt of everyone in the building, she's the only one that he won't be rude to. He's nicer to me than he is to a lot of people, but that doesn't mean that he is nice to me in general."

"Right," Bryce nodded, understanding what I was saying, "SO why aren't we meeting with him now? I mean, we could save a lot of time."

I shook my head, "I feel like it would be suspicious. If there is anyone that knows everything in this building, it would be him. Chances are, he has already put together that we are on a wild goose chase for a murderer. And if he hasn't, then he suspects. Someone was just killed. It might alert him that he is a suspect. After that, it's all too easy for him to run before we get any solid proof if it does turn out to be him."

"Makes sense," Bryce shrugged, "So how do you want to go about this? Do you want me to find out if he is free? Or do you want to do that yourself?"

"I'm sure I could go and organise it with him. Henry is a very easygoing person, so as long as he isn't busy, then he will probably come along easy. And if he's busy then we may need to wait an hour or two. But realistically, we should be able to talk to him about it today."

Bryce nodded, "Do you want me to come up with questions? or do you just want to go with the flow?"

I sent him a smirk, "Let's go with the latter, Pretty boy. I'll see you in a bit."

----------------------------------------------------

Henry Murphy was a tall, lanky man. His blonde hair thinning over his head. His ears stuck out, the paleness of his hair contrasting with the deep black colour of his eyes. A calming smile was plastered on his face as he sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, his hands hidden underneath the table.

Bryce looked at me, his expression filled with doubt. "Are you sure he's a suspect?" He whispered,

I sighed, "I know, it's unlikely. But he was in the room at the time, so we have to interview him. Who knows, looks can be deceiving,"

"Deceiving is one thing," He murmured back, "But for this guy to be to be a killer, he would need to be wearing a mask."

I inwardly cringed, He wasn't wrong.

As Henry pulled in his chair closer to the desk he sighed, "Dyw, these chairs are hard! I've asked hundreds of times to get them replaced! Any, Rosemary, lovely to see you again. And you! I don't recognise you! You must be Ms Hughes bodyguard!" He extended one hand forward, his thick Welsh accent filling the room.

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