Spyros had said that the killer was more than likely a woman. He had been right.
“Michael?”
Michael jumped and spun around. His boss had entered the room, carrying a folder. Michael hadn’t even noticed the man, even though the portly officer had a heavy tread. He was looking at Michael curiously. Michael squared his shoulders.
“Sir. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I noticed.” Superintendent Terry Pascal approached him. His ruddy face was grim. “How are you holding up? Did you see the doctors?”
Michael had also been to the police doctor. A sliver of glass had cut his foot and another chunk was embedded in his knee. Both had been cleaned up and were throbbing like hell.