He had brought his lawyer with him, of course, and was answering about one question out of ten. Sam had managed, working his way doggedly through a dizzying pile of paperwork, to prove that Andrews owned large amounts of land in Knocknaree; upon which Andrews had quit denying that he'd ever heard of the place. He wouldn't touch questions about his financial situation, though-he clapped Sam on the shoulder and said genially, "If I were on a cop's salary, Sam, boy, I'd be more worried about my own finances than anyone else's," while the lawyer murmured colorlessly, in the background, "My client cannot disclose any information on that subject"-and both of them were profoundly, smoothly shocked at the mention of the threatening phone calls. I fidgeted and checked my watch every thirty seconds; Cassie leaned against the glass, eating an apple and abstractedly offering me a bite now and then.
Andrews did, however, have an alibi for the night of Katy's death, and after a certain amount of aggrieved rhetoric he agreed to provide it. He had been at a poker night in Killiney with a few of "the lads," and when the game wound up around midnight he had decided not to drive home-"Cops aren't as understanding as they used to be," he said, with a wink at Sam-and had stayed in the host's spare room. He gave the names and phone numbers of The Lads, so Sam could confirm this.
"That's grand," Sam said at last. "We'll just need to do a voice lineup, so we can eliminate you as the source of the phone calls."
A wounded expression spread across Andrews's pudgy features. "I'm sure you realize it's hard for me to go out of my way for you, Sam," he said, "after the way I've been treated." Cassie started to giggle.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Mr. Andrews," Sam said gravely. "Could you tell me what aspects of your treatment have been the problem, exactly?"
"You've dragged me in here for most of a
"Sure, we can fix that," Sam said. "We don't need to do the voice lineup now. If it suits you better to come back and do it this evening or tomorrow morning, outside business hours, I'll set it up then. How's that?"
Andrews pouted. The lawyer-he was the naturally peripheral type, I don't even remember what he looked like-raised a tentative finger and requested a moment to confer with his client. Sam turned off the camera and joined us in the observation room, loosening his tie.
"Hi," he said. "Exciting watching, yeah?"
"Riveting," I said. "It must be even more fun from inside."
"I'm telling you. A laugh a minute, this boy. God, did you see that bloody eye? It took me ages to cop on, I thought at first he'd just no attention span-"
"Your suspect's more fun than our suspect," Cassie said. "Ours doesn't even have a twitch or anything."
"Speaking of whom," I said, "don't schedule the lineup for tonight. Devlin's got a prior appointment, and afterwards, with any luck, he'll be in no mood for anything else." If we were really lucky, I knew, the case-both cases-could be over that evening, with no need for Andrews to do anything at all, but I didn't mention this. Even the thought made my throat tighten irritatingly.
"God, that's right," Sam said. "I forgot. Sorry. We're getting somewhere, though, aren't we? Two good suspects in one day."
"Damn, we're good," Cassie said. "Andrews high five!" She crossed her eyes, swiped at Sam's hand and missed. We were all very keyed up.
"If someone hits you on the back of the head you'll be stuck that way," Sam said. "That's what happened to Andrews."
"Hit him again and see if you can unstick him."
"My God, you're politically incorrect," I told her. "I'm going to report you to the National Commission for Squinty Bastards' Rights."
"He's giving me bugger-all," Sam said. "But that's grand; I didn't expect to get much out of him today. All I want is to rattle him a bit, and get him to agree to the voice lineup. Once we have an ID, I can put the pressure on."
"Hang on. Is he
