Thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six. We don’t stop until we reach the thirtieth floor, the old arcade. Kosuke has all the classic games, all the latest consoles, too. Slot machines, grab machines, simulators; you name it, he’s got it. Fairchild and I skulk into a corner and collapse on a sofa in the darkness. We watch the elevator lights flash in ascending order. The police are on their way to the roof.
I look at Fairchild as he breathes fast and heavy, eyes shut tight. ‘Tell me.’
‘I didn’t kill her,’ he says. ‘I swear it.’
‘Then why the hell are we hiding here? Hardly shines the light of innocence on us, disappearing as soon as the cops show up.’
If this is all a show then Fairchild’s one fine actor; I could fill a tumbler with all the sweat streaming down his face.
‘I heard someo
