Once Upon A [Hidden] Time - [Stolen] Series IV

CHAPTER 4

STEVE
17 JUNE 2015

"Do you wish to call your lawyer, Mr Bernard?" DC Khan asked.

"No," I answered, looking around the enclosed space.

It was a small room, painted light grey, with cameras all around us. The steel chair was extremely uncomfortable, but I kept my mouth shut and didn't fuss about it. Officer Maira Khan sat opposite me in her crisp white shirt and black vest. Did anyone ever tell her she still looked incredibly sexy in this ugly vest? I blinked twice to clear my foggy head. This was not the time to ogle the woman opposite me, who was acting not like my childhood friend, but like a Gestapo, and I was the unfortunate member of the Resistance party who was caught sneaking into the ghetto to free a few Jews.

"Speaking in monosyllables is not going to help, Mr Bernard," she said sternly.

I folded my arms, smirking. "You have already made up your mind to put me behind bars." I looked around my cage again. "Anything I say is not going to help."

She reciprocated my act, folding her arms. "Try me."

I observed one of the cameras. "With these vultures hanging over my head?"

"It is for our record," she answered.

"I can't afford for it to leak," I complained. "You can arrest me, but I will not speak with these," I glanced at the camera again, "recording me."

Following my gaze to the camera, she stood up. "I'll be right back." And she left the room. She returned after a minute and took her seat. "Nothing is recording now. You better start talking, mister."

I dusted the lint off my sleeve. "Depends on who is asking right now." I met her scrutinising gaze that twisted my insides. "Is it my childhood friend, or DC Khan?"

"I am on duty, Steve," she mumbled.

I smiled. "I'm glad you remember my name."

"You're wasting our time here." Leaning forward, she placed her elbows on the table. "Do you realise what charges you could face if you don't tell us where Miss Farrow is?"

"If I told you the truth," I said, scratching my temple, "would you believe me?"

"I told you...try me," she replied.

I looked at her for a few moments, and we both forgot to blink. I had never been so nervous with a woman; my heart had never thudded so loudly. It was as if she was skinning me, as one does with animals, dismantling me bit by bit. Was she trying to read the truth inside me, or looking at me the way she did with all the criminals?

I took my time to lie. "Our family has quite a reputation in the media and within the British aristocracy."

"I know," she answered with cold detachment in her eyes. "That's why I approved your request of not recording the statement—for now."

"You may not know, but Miss Farrow and I met through our parents." She stared at me, surprised. "We were not betrothed out of love."

"You," she chuckled, "not marrying for love?"

I watched a dozen emotions skid through her eyes. Did she still remember our secret dates, stealing kisses, her father kicking me out of their house when he caught us sharing an intimate moment in her bedroom...how she had disappeared after that incident?

"That's correct," I replied. "Neither did she." I looked around the room again. "She never told me she loved another man. I found out on our engagement day."

"Good God!" she exclaimed.

"His name is Edward, and he is from Scotland." Part truth, part lie. I went on, "She was already in love with Edward, but she didn't know how to tell her parents."