Time to Pay Read Free Page A

uniformed photographer documenting the tragedy from every angle. A helicopter scanned the neighbouring countryside for any sign of the gunman, backed up on the ground, Gideon knew, by four pairs of armed-response officers, and two dog handlers.
    All the while, Damien, lying face up as Gideon had left him, stared sightlessly into the cloudless blue sky.
    The door of the interview room opened and Gideon glanced up just in time to see a head withdraw as it closed once more.
    â€˜Hey!’ he called, getting to his feet. ‘Hey. When can I go?’
    There was no response, and he banged his fist on the table in frustration. He was beginning tofeel more like a suspect than the innocent witness to a crime; a feeling reinforced by the fact that on arrival at the station he had had his hands swabbed and his clothes taken away.
    â€˜Sorry, sir, it’s routine,’ he was told, and was left to change into a white all-in-one garment fashioned from some sort of papery fibre. It looked like the sort the CSI team had worn.
    He could call someone to get some clothes brought in if he wanted, he was told, so he’d called Graylings Priory where Giles Barrington-Carr, his friend and landlord, lived with his sister Pippa. Gideon knew Pippa was out drag hunting, but left a message with Giles’ answering service.
    He’d been taken to the interview room where, before long, Coogan and another plain-clothed officer joined him, and the questions began.
    Did Gideon often ride with Mr Daniels?
    This was the fifth time.
    Did they often take this particular route?
    Yes, they had the last three times, to accustom the horse to the sound of the guns. It was part of the therapy.
    Had Gideon noticed anyone in the wood that morning?
    Only a dog walker . . .
    Could Gideon describe the dog walker?
    To be honest, he’d been more interested in the dog – a rather handsome Rottweiler. As far as he could remember, the owner was female, middle-aged, plump and dark-haired; not your average sniper material.
    â€˜And how many snipers do you know, Mr Blake?’ Without a flicker of humour.
    â€˜OK, point taken,’ Gideon said wearily.
    Had Mr Daniels seemed his normal self that morning?
    Yes.
    Not worried about anything, or distracted?
    No. Full of plans for the future.
    Was Gideon aware of any trouble within Mr Daniels’ family – had he said anything about relationship problems?
    â€˜Look,’ Gideon said with a touch of irritation. ‘I’m an animal psychologist, not a marriage-guidance counsellor! As far as I know, he was happy with his home life, but I couldn’t say for sure. I don’t – didn’t – know him that well. We mostly talked about the horse.’
    â€˜Would you say Damien Daniels was hot-tempered? Confrontational?’
    â€˜No. He’s – he was – very easy-going. He got on with most people.’
    â€˜You say most people – who didn’t he get on with?’
    â€˜Well,
I
don’t know,’ Gideon said, exasperated. ‘I didn’t mean anyone in particular, but I expect there were people – nobody hits it off with absolutely everyone, do they?’
    â€˜And what about you? Have you ever quarrelled with him?’
    â€˜No. And before you ask – I didn’t quarrel with him this morning, and I didn’t shoot him.’
    He was the recipient of a long, calculating look, then Coogan changed tack.
    â€˜When did you first realise that Mr Daniels had been shot?’
    Gideon had already related the events of themorning twice, but previous experience of police procedure had taught him that it did no good to kick against it, so he swallowed his impatience.
    â€˜Not until the paramedic on the phone told me to turn him over. I hadn’t moved him before because I thought his neck was broken.’
    â€˜And you say you didn’t hear the shot because of the noise from the guns next door.’
    â€˜That’s