Abacus

Digby issue aside so he could focus on the homicide. He was a resilient man with the ability to mentally shelve problems, so he could push on unimpeded with the next task. He was looking forward to meeting Cheung and gauging her reaction to Briggs’s death. He was also interested in seeing firsthand the dynamics of the relationship between Cheung and Hoskings. He got up from his chair and walked over to the window and looked out with arms outstretched. It will be interesting to see who wears the pants . I’m guessing she does .
    * * *
    “Have we met before? You look very familiar to me,” Karen Cheung said, extending her slender hand to greet Randall.
    Ms Cheung was a very attractive woman with dark hair that was neatly pinned up in a bun. She had pale, porcelain-like skin and a very curvaceous body for an Asian woman. The middle-aged, balding Hoskings looked totally unsuited to his younger female partner. He looked old enough to have been her father. “And you must be Peter Hoskings,” Randall said in a friendly, welcoming tone. “This here is Detective James, he is in charge of this investigation, and I am Detective Sergeant Randall.”
    Jesse extended his hand to Hoskings , and nodded to Cheung. “Obviously you both got our message from the uniformed police that we needed to speak with you.”
    “Yes, we have been thinking about what it could be about but nothing springs to mind at a ll,” she replied in fluent English.
    “Peter , if you don’t mind sitting out in the waiting room, we need to speak with Karen in private about a matter.” Randall spoke in a manner that gave Peter no option but to comply.
    Jesse held out his arm in invitation for Ms Cheung to follow, while Peter Hoskings was left in the waiting room near the front counter. “Will you be all right, love?” he asked in a concerned tone.
    “ She’ll be fine,” Jesse said. “She’s in good hands, and she won’t be too long.”
    “Take a seat wherever you like,” Jesse said pointing to the table in the middle of the interview room.
    “Can I get you something to drink, ma’am?” Randall asked politely as he removed his notepad from his top shirt pocket.
    “No than ks, I’ve already had a coffee,” she said pleasantly.
    “How is work going for you? ”
    “Well , I’m a nurse at Gladesville Psychiatric Hospital, so it is a bit challenging and busy in there.”
    “I could imagine,” he said, flicking his notebook to a fresh page and glancing over at Jesse in a signal for him to take over the questioning.
    “ So, Karen,” Jesse said with folded arms. “I won’t sugarcoat this; we are here to speak with you about your ex-boyfriend Tony Briggs.” Randall looked at her for any signs of emotion. There was none.
    “Yes, Tony and I broke up some time ago; we’re still friends, though. Is he in trouble?”
    “You could say that,” Jesse replied guardedly. “When did you last speak with him?”
    “I can’t remember the day exactly; we still speak now and again.”
    “On your mobile?” Jesse inquired.
    “Yes, always on my mobile. I don’t use a landline. So, Detective, what has he done?” she asked, appearing a little confused.
    “I’ve actually got some bad news to tell you , Ms Cheung… Tony is no longer with us. He is dead.”
    Randall looked up from his notepad as Jesse, too, closely watched. And then it came. The bottom lip trembled as she covered her face with her hands. “Can I have a glass of water, if that’s all right?” she whispered.
    “Sure, sure,” Randall said , gently touching her arm as got up from his seat.
    A short time later, he returned with the glass. “There you go, Karen,” he said, placing the glass in front of her.
    Cheung took a small sip, just to moisten her lips , and sat quietly. To Randall, she appeared to be genuinely upset. “How did this happen? He is young and fit,” she said softly.
    “We’re not sure, but we were hoping you might be able to help us with a bit of background information,” Randall said.
    Cheung removed a handkerchief f rom her bag and dabbed her eyes. “Was he killed?”
    “We believe so,” Jesse replied carefully.
    Cheung lifted the handkerchief to her face and began to sob into it.
    “I’m sorry, I c an’t help, I’m sorry,” she said as she folded the handkerchief and placed it back in her bag.
    “I don’t follow,” Randall said. “Don’t you want to help us find who did this to him?”
    “I’m too upset. I can’t talk about this. He