At the end of the freeway, Jill swung the Commodore into the first service station and bolted to the bathroom. When she got back, Gabriel was standing at the bonnet, food and drink spread out on the hot car like it was a picnic rug.
'So how're we going to handle the interview?' he said, indicating that a plastic-looking salad sandwich was for her.
'What do you have in mind?'
'I want to use audiovisuals to record everything. What do you think?'
'I think,' she answered, 'that you'll completely freak out the victims. They're not going to understand why they would be taped. We haven't even caught a suspect, so it's not like a tape could be used in court.'
'These people are the only experts we have on this gang,' he said, struggling to open his sandwich wrapper. 'They know much more than they think they know. We need as many verbal and non-verbal cues as possible for a full behavioural analysis.'
'It seems like a lot of trouble for a witness interview, but I guess we've got to do everything we can think of at this point,' she said. 'You got the equipment, or are we gonna get them to come in again later?'
'Got everything we need.' He nodded at the duffle bag on the back seat, his still-wrapped sandwich in his mouth, fingers and teeth tearing at the plastic. Jill thought about offering to help, but finally, the plastic gave way. 'We can get it all done today.'
As Gabriel pulled his bag from the back of the car, Jill silently repeated the victims' names – Isobel Rymill, Joss Preston-Jones. 'What were they like when you set up the interview this morning?'
'Ah, they said no.' He walked across the street. She stared after him.
'What?' She hurried to catch up. 'Said no to what?'
'The interview.'
They were already at the front door of the freestanding two-storey terrace. Jill glared at Gabriel as he knocked. She heard sounds behind the door, and a deadbolt sliding back. She couldn't see through the crack, as Gabriel's back filled the space.
'Mr Preston-Jones? We spoke this morning,' Gabriel sounded assertive, turned slightly to make space for Jill next to him. 'I'm Gabriel Delahunt and this is my partner, Sergeant Jillian Jackson.'
The man who opened the door looked as though he'd ordinarily be of a more cheerful disposition. An open face, light grey eyes, sandy hair that was buzz-cut close to his scalp. He stood in his doorway in a faded red tee-shirt, tight across his upper chest, loose navy pants, no shoes. He stood a smidge taller than Gabe. He didn't smile. A black-green bruise marred the lightly freckled skin under his left eye.
'I thought we agreed we'd have to do this another time?' He folded tanned arms across his chest.
Gabriel held out his hand. Big smile. Seeing it, Jill couldn't help but smile as well.
Joss Preston-Jones sighed, shook Gabriel's hand, and reached for Jill's. Then he stepped aside and motioned for them to come in.
The hallway was narrow. 'Sorry about this,' she felt she had to say over her shoulder. The man smiled tightly.
Jill followed Gabriel to a bright kitchen washed in the midday sun streaming in from the small backyard. Gabriel took a seat on a stool at the breakfast bar. She waited for him to explain what they were doing there, but he seemed content to look around the room, still smiling.
'Ah, Mr Preston-Jones,' she started. Someone had to say something.
'Call me Joss.'
'Great, thanks. Please, call me Jill.' Let Delahunt fend for himself.
'I understand that you would have preferred to do this some other time.'
'My wife's at work.'
Jill stared hard at Gabriel, then turned back to Joss. 'You're probably aware of how urgent it is for us to investigate this case. You might have heard about the latest home invasion?'
'I don't watch the news,' said Joss.
'Well, we believe that the gang that attacked you at Andy Wu's house have now killed a man.' Jill noticed Joss rub his hand across his mouth. 'We need to get as much information as we can about these people so that we can get them off the streets.'
She watched his shoulders relax a little, and his arms, folded across his chest, dropped to his sides.
'I haven't really been back to work since it happened,' said Joss. 'But Isobel had to go. She's bringing our daughter, Charlie, home at about four.'
'Is that Charlie?' Jill pointed to a photo on the fridge. It showed a blonde toddler nursing a fluffy cat almost bigger than herself.
Joss laughed a little. 'Yep.' The love in his eyes looked like pain.
Jill became aware that Gabriel was unpacking his bag.
'The light's probably best in here,' he said, unfolding a telescoped tripod.
'For what?' Joss's arms folded again.
'From now on we'll be videotaping all of our interviews regarding the case.' Gabriel spoke to the small camera he was screwing to the top of the tripod.
Jill glowered at him. This guy could turn the charm on and then drop it in an instant. She guessed that they were about to be kicked out, but instead Joss offered them something to drink. She and Gabriel accepted an orange juice. Joss poured himself a tall glass of water from a filter jug next to the sink.
'Might as well get on with it then,' he said, walking back towards them.
Gabriel set up the recording equipment with more speed than she could have imagined. By the time Joss had taken a seat at the breakfast bar, the contents of Gabriel's modest-sized duffle bag had transformed the small dining area off the kitchen into a studio. He had angled two dining chairs to face one another, and a collapsible reflective screen was positioned behind one of the chairs. He ushered their host towards this chair, motioning Jill towards the other, and took up his place behind the camera.
Jill took her seat feeling nervous and annoyed. For heaven's sake, she thought, we're interviewing a witness, not interrogating a suspect. She opened her notebook and smiled reassuringly at Joss.
'Hang on a sec,' said Gabriel. Incredulous, she watched him drop to his knees and, using a retractable tape measure, calculate the distance between the two chairs. Walking back on his knees, he signalled with his hand for her to rise. She stood and he pushed her chair backwards a hand's breadth.
'Sorry,' he looked up at her.
'Um, yes, maybe we should just get on with it.'
'They were only ninety-two centimetres apart.'
Jill stared. It seemed he was apologising for not getting the measurements right the first time, rather than for the ridiculous fact that he was bothering with such details in the first place.
'Should've been ninety-seven,' Gabriel said to Joss, hands out, as if that explained everything.
I gotta talk to this guy, Jill thought.
'Joss,' she took over. His legs and arms were crossed now, and he leaned towards the back door as though he wanted to be anywhere but in there with them. 'We're here to get your full description of what you remember happening at Andy Wu's last Saturday night. Can you tell us everything that happened after you arrived? Please don't leave anything out, everything you've got to say is very important to us. You are our eyes and ears in there.'
Gabriel caught her eye, raised his eyebrows at her.
They listened quietly to Joss's account, occasionally interrupting to clarify a point.
While speaking, Joss stared at a point just beyond Jill's shoulder. She watched him reliving the horror of the night, saw his eyeballs tracking actively as the scene replayed before him. His face was grey and his voice hoarse when he finished. An electronic chime indicated that Gabriel had turned the camera off. Jill looked down at her watch. Three-thirty. The wife would be home soon, but this guy had had enough. His hand shook slightly as he rubbed the bristle on top of his head. When he stood, he steadied himself using the back of the chair, his eyes glazed and unfocused. She and Gabriel gave him their thanks and left, arranging to return to take his wife's statement the following day.