‘Will do,’ Poe replied. ‘How are the interviews going?’
The duty inspector had already authorised a twelve-hour custody extension and Poe knew Nightingale was working on getting a magistrate to increase it to the maximum of ninety-six hours. As much as PACE allowed, the Cowells were being interviewed around the clock.
‘Robert’s still protesting his innocence and, apart from the “look into my eyes” comment, Rhona’s continuing to say nothing.’
‘“Look into my eyes”? I thought she’d said, “Stare into my soul and see the truth”?’
‘I’ve spoken to the interviewing detective and it was definitely eyes she said, not soul. Why, is that important?’
‘Don’t see how it could be. I’ll take a look anyway.’
‘OK, keep me informed?’
‘Will do.’
Poe clicked the link for the relevant Rhona Cowell interview and scrolled to the place where the evidence about Midnight Mass had been put to her. She definitely reacted at the same time Robert had. He dragged the curser along the progress bar at the bottom of the screen until he’d found the part where she’d spoken.
He turned up the sound.
It was muffled, and in the official transcript would no doubt be recorded as ‘inaudible’. Nightingale had been referring to her detective’s unofficial notes. The ones that would be on HOLMES and the file but not used in any charging decisions.
Poe tried to watch Rhona’s lips to see if he could see the words being formed but, as she was staring into her lap when she spoke, he could barely see her mouth at all. He watched it a couple of times but nothing leaped out.
He dragged the progress bar back to where she’d smirked. She’d smirked and Robert had become distressed. Why?
And in every interview he’d watched she’d remained in full control. So why did she bother speaking at all? It didn’t make sense. She hadn’t even confirmed her name, but for some reason she asked the cop to look into her eyes and see some sort of divine truth?
Poe played it again.
‘Tilly, what’s wrong with this picture?’ he said.
He played it for her.
‘I don’t know, Poe. What’s bothering you?’
‘She’s not looking at the detective when she tells him to look into her eyes. She’s not even looking at the camera.’
‘So?’
‘So, who’s she speaking to?’ he said. ‘Asking someone to look into your eyes but looking away from them while you do is plain weird, don’t you think?’
Bradshaw frowned then looked at the laptop she’d been working on. It was Robert’s. It was connected to her own by a thick cable. A program was running on both of them.
She pressed a button and killed it. The desktop image, the one he used as a background, reappeared on Robert’s laptop. It was a close-up photo of him and Rhona posing next to a kite-flying trophy. They were both smiling.
‘I wonder …’ Bradshaw said. ‘What if we have this all wrong, Poe? What if she wasn’t being figurative when she said, “look into my eyes”, what if she was being literal?’
Ten minutes later Poe called Nightingale.
‘Ma’am, we have a big problem,’ he said.
Chapter 50
Nightingale glared at the wall monitor as if it was personally responsible for the disastrous turn the investigation had just taken. She’d wanted her senior team briefed but, given what Bradshaw had uncovered, Poe had insisted on it being a small and select group for now. There was only Nightingale, the chief constable and the assistant chief of operations.
‘Talk me through it,’ the chief constable said. Given the about-turn they’d all experienced, she seemed ready to take a more hands-on role. She wasn’t blaming Nightingale – she’d been following the evidence like everyone else – but it was clear she no longer wanted to hear things second-hand.
‘There was a hidden folder in Robert Cowell’s laptop,’ Bradshaw said. ‘The link to it was embedded in a single pixel in the desktop background photograph he was using.’