The Dead Dog Day by Jackie Kabler Page B

obviously acting weird. All we have is loads of probably perfectly innocent people wandering about – impossible to know which one is a killer.’
    Adam nodded. The DC was right. Simply looking at people entering, leaving and walking around the building wasn’t going to get them very far unless they could find somebody who actually had a reason for wanting Jeanette Kendrick dead, and prove they were in the newsroom that morning.
    Gary was pointing to a photo of Jeanette’s office.
    â€˜Now, normally those high office windows are sealed – you know, for Health and Safety? But this woman – well, from all accounts, what she wanted, she got. And she was a bit of a fresh air freak, so she’d had them unsealed so she could open them whenever she wanted.’
    â€˜A decision that cost her her life.’ Adam shook his head. ‘And that, I presume, was common knowledge, certainly among the staff?’
    Gary nodded. ‘Yes, that’s coming through in all the interviews we’ve done so far. They all knew about it. Anyway – other potential witnesses. There were some window cleaners working that day but they didn’t start until about 8.30 – it was still dark until quite late of course, being December, as I said earlier. Sunrise was – let me see – 8.04 a.m. that day. So they’re no good – I’ve checked, none of them got there before about 8.20. And there doesn’t seem to have been anyone else around. No deliveries till later on, apart from newspapers which came in much earlier, around 2 a.m. The sides of the building aren’t well lit anyway, and on a freezing cold morning, when it was still so dark … seems like nobody else saw her coming down.’
    Adam frowned. ‘Right, let’s move inside. The office is right at the far back corner of the newsroom.’ He stopped to study the photographs pinned to the board.
    â€˜Two external walls, both with windows as it’s a corner office, and two internal glass walls, but the blinds were down. So as long as somebody was able to slip in and out without anyone noticing – which is quite possible in that place, I’ve spent enough time there this week to know it’s crazy in there while the programme’s on air – then it’s an easy job. Even if she’d screamed, there’s so much noise going on I doubt anyone would have heard it.’
    Gary agreed. ‘Nobody heard a thing. There are TVs and radios on everywhere, and a lot of people work in headphones. If she did scream or shout, it went unnoticed. And it seems her mouth had been taped up at some point, remember.’
    Adam stood up and moved closer to the board.
    â€˜Suspects so far then. We still need to rule out Mr or Mrs Lurker from outside the building – definitely weird behaviour there. I can’t understand how it’s taking so long to get an ID.’
    Detective Constable Karen Lloyd, a small, dark-haired woman in a white shirt, raised her hand. ‘I’m working on that – it’s mainly because it’s impossible to make out the face, so we’re trying to at least find out where the coat might be from. Not proving easy though. It’s not clear enough. And no joy at all from all the telly airings.’
    â€˜Thanks, Karen. Then there’s this young producer, Christina, who had a massive row with the deceased a few hours before. The “Chris” thing clearly works, but sadly I’m fairly sure we can rule her out at this stage – she’s on CCTV at 7.59 down in the reception area, which would only have given her a minute at most to commit the crime and get down there. From seven floors up that’s a tall order. And I just don’t see her doing it. By all accounts, there was no love lost between her and her boss, but …’
    Gary interrupted. ‘And she’s tiny. I’d be amazed if she’d had the strength, you know?’
    Karen