"Hmm?" he asked, realising after a moment that she was talking about his bruise. "Oh. Pub got a little rowdy the other night..." he trailed off, cocking his head to the side as he remembered what Miles had said.
"Actually, the guy...he and Rosie had been arguing just before he hit me. It was pretty heated." He shook his head, his lip curling up a little. "But he wouldn't..." He gestured to the empty box.
Miles Bletchley had more than enough money on his own to steal something as petty as a bar staff's wages, and he also didn't think that he would have ever killed Rosie. Hell, she'd helped take care of Liam since he was a baby. Not that Miles really seemed to care about that, but it ought to have counted for something.
When Susan asked about next of kin, he shrugged. "None that I know of," he responded. "I think she's got some of her more personal files in her desk downstairs. That cabinet is a bit tougher to get into, I'd guess."
His voice had gone into a bit of a monotone, and he hadn't realised that he taken to staring at the wall behind Susan's shoulder as he spoke.