“Isn’t this a bit overwhelming, detective?”
Oh yes, quite overwhelming. How could the detective be so cruel and blunt to someone like her?
“No, it’s all right Nicholas,” Claire assured him, though she kept her surprised, worry filled eyes flickering from him to the other men in the room, as if unsure where to draw her attention with so much anticipation and questions. “They’re just doing their jobs.” As soon as he mentioned Ms. Hawthorne, however, she focused on Morse with purpose. He was the one she would need to fool in this room, but at the same time the last thing she wanted was to cause Lucy, or anyone fully innocent for that matter, harm. Claire already felt bad enough for what she’d been forced to do, the poor woman…
“Yes, yes, the sandwiches came from here. Please don’t bother Lucy with questions again unless absolutely necessary. It was my suggestion to help her visit him in the first place. The poor dear was just so upset, it broke my heart… I can’t imagine what kind of state she’s in now.” Guilt clutched at her heart, but she kept going. “And there is no need to get the chef either, Detective. I fixed the sandwiches myself.” Lying about that would get her nowhere, especially since one conversation with the kitchen staff would give that away. Besides, perhaps such blatant honesty of what was not in her favor would help. There was no way they could actually know it was her!
“It was just a quick snack, and I wanted to leave quickly so we would get home at a decent time,” she slowly explained, squeezing the hand that was around Nick’s without even realizing it. If only she could explain, confide in him what her small part as a spy had somehow escalated to. What would he think… “So of course I confirm going to meet Matthew. But sir, as much as I would like to help, I had little contact with him. I’ve barely met the man, I was really only there for Lucy. You don’t honestly think my food…” she said, her eyes gleaming with what would soon be full on tears. “Surely bad food wouldn’t kill a man that quickly! Or…no, you cannot be assuming that I had something to do with- on purpose, surely not,” she whispered, looking at Nick then back to the police. Worry, confusion, and now faked panic.
“No, I would- Lucy loved him!” she exclaimed, “I- the guard! The guard had some of what I fixed to see if it was all right. You can ask the men at his cell, there were two of them.” Claire’s words came quickly, and she hoped it was convincing. “And anything worth noting? Detective, he looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in a while, he was terribly weak. I trust how our government handles crime, but he had dark circles under his eyes, and his hands at his back. He was an innocent man that died for no good reason! I’m just glad Lucy could see him one last time before…he loved her so, I could see it as they spoke…that’s- that’s so rare to see such…”
Her own defense was killing her inside. Claire touched the corner of her eye as she started crying, but it was no use. Emotions were coming on too hard and too fast. “I do not remember what time we left,” she answered in what was almost a whisper, her voice shaking now. “They were eager to get us out, but I threated to get my father involved if they were not given time. Nicholas, what…what- what time did I get back, do you remember?” she asked, hoping he would take over as she could barely speak anymore without sniffling. “I suppose I left- not half an hour- before that.” Another stifle of tears, and she looked down to her lap. “Nick, someone should be there for Lucy and she should not be alone in that big house, nor with family that might just make things more difficult.” She knew what it was like to have family make snide remarks when things were difficult. That’s it, Detective Morse, I’m changing the subject and Nicholas should keep you at by now… “Perhaps I should bring breakfast over tomorrow.”
Claire gasped, putting a few gloved fingers to her lips with wide eyes. “Unless you think she blames me too. She might not want to eat what I have, or ever see me again… Nick, I was just trying to do what is right,” she repeated both to herself and her husband, looking over at him with pleading eyes. Get us out of here, away from the police…please…