Both men shook their head. Sgott turned to the officer who’d been recording the entire conversation. “Accompany them both to the hospital. If they get chatty, take a record of it.”
He nodded, tucked his phone away, then stepped back so we could all exit.
“Hey,” Jason called after us. “What about removing the damn pixie shit from us?”
I glanced at Sgott, my eyebrows once again raised in question. He smiled. “Leave it for the time being. We’ll consider its removal once we’ve finished questioning them.”
I nodded, watched as the medic closed the ambulance’s rear door, and then said, “When did Kaitlyn get released from the hospital?”
“Yesterday. She’s currently working out of a secondary office outside the old city.” He glanced at me, amusement playing across his lips. “And I’ll be questioning her, young lady, not you.”
“She owes me a favor—I saved her life, remember.”
“And destroyed her home and her main business building in the process. She’s not happy, let me tell you that.”
“Then when you talk to her, tell her next time something untoward threatens her, she can look elsewhere for help.”
“She knows that is not in your nature, just as it wasn’t in your mother’s.”
“Thing is, there’s a lot more of my father in me than either Mom or I had realized.” It was bleakly said, and Sgott frowned at me.
“Meaning what?”
I waved the comment away. “Nothing. Do you need a statement from us?”
“Yes, but we can get it in the morning?—”
“We’re off to Wales relic hunting for the council tomorrow morning,” Mathi said, “and are likely to be gone all day.”
“Ah, well then.” Sgott motioned another of his people over. “James here will take your statements now then. And please, if you have any other insights about our thief, inform me before you take any action on it. And that includes you, Mathi.”
“As you are no doubt well aware,” he replied evenly, “my father has cut my access to the IIT systems, so I am bereft of meaningful ‘insights’ and informational avenues.”
“You are many things, Mathi Dhar-Val, but you will never be bereft of insights, information, or indeed integrity.”
Mathi bowed slightly. “I shall take that as a compliment.”
“You should. I would not say the same about your father.” Sgott touched my arm, a gesture that was both affectionate and a warning to stay out of trouble, then moved away, heading toward the still-smoking ruins of the house. James took our statements and then asked if we needed a lift anywhere.
Mathi politely declined and then touched the small of my back, guiding me down the street to the worse-for-wear Merc. A couple of cops were squatting near the front end, one appearingto scrape paint samples into specimen containers while the other took photos. Henrick stood nearby, watching proceedings, but glanced around as we approached. There was a briefcase in one hand, and over his shoulders were several leather bags, including my purse. He handed me the latter when I was close enough, and I nodded my thanks.
“I called Marc, sir. He awaits just beyond the roundabout.”
“Excellent. And the Mercedes?”
“Will be out of action for repairs for at least a week, once the IIT have released it. I’ve already arranged a replacement.”
“Excellent work, Henrick. Thank you.”
Henrick nodded, then turned and led us down the street, turning left at the roundabout and striding toward the silver Mercedes—a carbon copy of the vehicle he drove—parked a little farther down. He opened the rear door, ushered us inside, then climbed into the front passenger seat.
“Home, sir?” Marc said.
“We’ll drop Ms. Aodhán off first, thanks, Marc.”
“Very good, sir.”
The privacy screen rolled up, and the vehicle pulled smoothly away. It was a Sunday night, so the traffic was light, and it didn’t take us all that long to reach the end of the lane.
