Day 14

Nothing left in him for social chit chat

“An elderly man has died after being beaten and knocked unconscious during a violent home invasion earlier this week.  Edward Davidson, a widower, had lived alone for the past five years and his neighbours said the eighty-three year old was a quiet man who kept mostly to himself and didn’t have any family living in the area.  Police said that two or three men entered Davidson’s home on Tuesday evening around ten p.m. after breaking through a fly screen door. I spoke to Detective Senior Sergeant Frank Lambert earlier today.”

Vision switches to the monitor where tape of Tiffany interviewing Lambert is ready to roll.  She’s wearing the same outfit so people don’t get confused, but Tiffany notices that she’s changed the bracelet on her right wrist between recording the interview and getting ready for tonight’s bulletin.

Bugger!  But Tiffany’s smiling to herself as she watches the interview rolling.  If that’s the worst thing that happens tonight, she’ll be happy enough.

Lambert looks uncomfortable in front of the camera.  His eyebrows are going up and down like nobody’s business.  Watching himself at home, he cringes, hopes not too many people at the office are watching.  He’s not done a lot of TV in his career and he still hasn’t had his media training.

He hadn’t expected the old bloke to die.  Staff at the hospital said he was doing well when he went to visit yesterday.  As well as could be expected, anyway.  It was a heart attack did for him in the end.  Lambert didn’t let that go in the interview.  There’ll be no possibility of murder charges, but he doesn’t want the fuckers who did this to know that.  Nor their mates.  The prospect of being up for murder still has a way of compelling people to come forward with their version of events.  Specially when there’s been a group of people at it together.  After a bit, they’re usually falling over each other to dob their mates in, get their story told first, minimise their exposure.

He watches the end of the interview, his appeal for anyone who knows anything to come forward and the Crimestoppers number captioned on the screen, across his chest.  The TV switches back to the newsreader wrapping up the story.  Frank’s met her before today.  Last time, he remembers he was a bit indiscreet.  This time it was all business.  Frank was seething at the death of the old codger, anyway, nothing left in him for social chit chat and ladder climbing with members of the fourth estate.

As the piece finishes and the newsreader goes on to the next story, Frank’s wife, Diana, comes back into the lounge room from where ever in the house it is she’s been.  If she knows he’s been on the TV, she’s not letting on.  It’s been a good while since he’s told her anything much about his work and he certainly hasn’t told her he was going to be on the news tonight.