"Inspector Brackenreid," Miss Cherry was standing at the Inspector's door, she'd avoided being waylaid by coming directly down the corridor from the station house door.
The Inspector looked up and rolled his eyes, "MISS CHERRY!" his tone spoke volumes, his disdain obvious. He'd liked Louise Cherry and thought she was an excellent lady friend for George–until she'd shown her true colours, a woman that would do anything to enhance her career.
"Inspector, I'd like to interview you as a follow up to a story I've written about Miss Marsh." Miss Cherry seemed impervious to the Inspector's less than welcoming tone.
"A follow-up in what way?" Brackenreid was now curious. What could Miss Marsh have said that would lead to him? "I think I'd like to see your interview with Miss Marsh before I say anything–especially to YOU!"
Miss Cherry walked into the office and invited herself to sit in one of the chairs facing the Inspector's desk, he gave up and sat down himself. "The interview hasn't been published yet but is due to be in tomorrow morning's edition. It's basically a commentary of why and how she helped Det. Murdoch clear his name."
"A name YOU helped sully in the first place Missy! Which led to me being fired and a constable being killed. Now you expect me to give you an interview? You've got a cheek. I should run you out of here right now. JACKS…HIGGINS! Get in here!"
"Sir?" Higgins was standing at the door.
"Escort this … lady … out." Brackenreid instructed as he stared at Miss Cherry.
"Now Inspector, I'm giving you a chance to tell your side of the story, wouldn't you like to do that?" Miss Cherry coolly enquired.
"My side of what story Miss Cherry?" Brackenreid was now wondering what Miss Marsh had been telling the reporter. "Okay Higgins, you can go for now."
"Miss Marsh said she made her decision to help the Detective after reading numerous newspaper clippings about him that she found in your desk." Miss Cherry informed him smugly.
"So?" Brackenreid said as he squirmed in his chair.
"I was wondering why you had so many clippings? What was the purpose of keeping them?"
The Inspector sat, mouth open, not quite knowing what to say. For years he'd complained about Murdoch, his pompous propriety, his studiousness and insistence on using science to solve cases. Eventually he'd had to admit that his methods got results and in the end made himself look good too. That was when he secretly started clipping all the newspaper articles about the Detective and keeping them hidden in a folder in his bottom drawer. Miss Marsh must have been rooting through his desk. Albeit it wasn't his desk at the time he supposed, as he'd been fired. He sat squirming slightly as Miss Cherry stared him straight in the eye. "Well Inspector…?"