"He has it all wrong, you know. He's going to lock up the wrong chap."
Detective sergeant Camille Borday prided herself with the known fact that she wasn't easily spooked. Nerves of steel, not easily scared or frighted, wouldn't fold under pressure and no nonsense incredible sharp mind.
Right now, however? She was most definitely spooked.
"Richard!" Wide brown eyes looked at the man standing before her, her hand moving to her chest to cover her heart.
Detective Inspector Poole looked slightly guilty if not more than a little perplexed. Unlike everyone else on the island, or so it seemed, he wasn't in the possession of ninja like qualities, let alone abilities. Being able to sneak up on anyone wasn't one of his many talents.
And yet he seemed to have managed it with his Sergeant.
"Oh. Uhm, terribly sorry, Camille." He gives her a contrite sheepish look before he resumes his usual pacing. "But I am quite right. The man couldn't have done it because," a wave of his hand as he sets off into a rant about how the man they had arrested couldn't have done it and whom he, Richard Poole thought /had/ done it.
Which should have been obvious if his team had simply followed the right clues and hadn't gotten off track by...distractions. Details! It was all in the details! Honestly, it was all in the details, he thought he had taught them at least that in the two years he'd been here now.
Camille just stared at him open mouthed. "Richard..." She tried again, her tone of voice the sort she used while they were on a scene and she was soothing the victim or the survivors.
Richard found it quite unnerving to be honest. Frowning, he takes a deep breath and crosses his arms in front of him and gives her /that/ look. "What?" he asks in his 'I'm holding back on sarcasm' voice. "What did I do this time?"
Camille pressed her hand to her mouth, reached out to him before quickly dropping her hand. "I- Richard... You're... You're dead."
Oh. Well. He hadn't seen /that/ one coming.