Read G03 - Resolution for Free Online Page B

thin plastic that wouldn’t snap or give an edge. Behind Grace’s head an air vent hummed softly, wafting the fringe of hair back and forth over his ears. He seemed very young. Young but tired.
    “Are you well, Mr. Farrell?” Grace was trying to catch his eye.
    “Fine.”
    “They treating you all right?”
    “Fine.
    Grace nodded. “I understand you had a visit from the Crown Office yesterday,” he said quietly, “at which they charged you with the murders of Mr. Douglas Brady and Mr. Martin Donegan.”
    Angus stared at the table. “I don’t know what they’re talking about,” he whispered urgently.
    Grace looked at his notes. “You know who Mr. Brady is?”
    “Of course I know him,” said Angus, sitting up and coming alive. His accent was clipped and clear. “I worked with him for years. They interviewed all of us in the clinic about it. He died in Maureen O’Donnell’s living room. But the porter, Martin, I didn’t even know he was dead until yesterday.”
    Grace made a consolatory face. “You have been ill for quite some time, I’m afraid.”
    “Dr. Heikle tells me I was given a massive dose of LSD.”
    “So it would seem. He’s surprised that you recovered. Do you remember anything about the time leading up to your admission here?”
    Angus looked at him. “I remember nothing,” he breathed, his eyes flickering around the gray tabletop as if he were trying to reassemble the events. “I told the police yesterday that I remember meeting the woman, Maureen O’Donnell. She’s an ex-patient of mine. We had coffee together in my office. After that I remember nothing but fire and being scared and being here.” He stabbed the table, as if his presence in this room was the only thing he had been sure about for a very long time. “I remember being here. I don’t know what happened to me to get me here.”
    Grace paused, writing a note to himself in his pad. “Did you know,” he said eventually, “that Miss O’Donnell was having an affair with Mr. Brady?”
    “The police told me. I was disappointed in Douglas for that.”
    “Did you know that O’Donnell’s brother is a drug dealer?”
    Angus sat forward, and the broken veins on his nose came into focus. “No, I didn’t know that. She could have given me the LSD. Can you do that with coffee?”
    “I don’t know, we’ll find out. But it does suggest a knowledge of drugs and a potential source. Incidentally, you were writing threatening letters to Miss O’Donnell while you were still … under the influence. Do you remember that?”
    Angus cringed and sat back, sliding his flat palms back across the table, his fingers leaving snail trails of sweat on the scarred gray plastic. “Vaguely.” He shrugged apologetically. “She’s my last memory before I went under. Maybe I got stuck …”
    Grace sat forward, tapping the table with his pen. “Can you pinpoint the date on which Miss O’Donnell came to see you with the coffee?”
    Angus shook his head. “I was at the clinic in the morning, briefly. She came in to see me after Douglas’s death.”
    “Would that be the last day you went into the clinic before disappearing?”
    Angus sat back as if startled by his acumen. “I expect it was. I honestly have no idea.”
    Grace scribbled something on his pad. “We can check that out.” He looked up. “The evidence they have links you to the murder of Mr. Donegan. They have only circumstantial evidence linking you to the murder of Douglas Brady. Realistically they would have to prove the second case to get a conviction on the first.”
    “What evidence do they have?”
    “Your bloody fingerprints on the back of Mr. Donegan’s neck.” Grace dropped his voice in embarrassment. “He was stabbed … in the face.”
    Angus shrank. “Could I have done that?” he muttered urgently.
    “The evidence suggests that you did, Mr. Farrell.”
    “How could I?” he whispered, and let his head drop to his chest. “Why would I do such a