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Chapter 23

"What do you think?"

Maxwell stared through one way glass at Richard's bulky frame. He was slumped forward, elbows on a small white table.

"Chief?"

With a sigh, Maxwell turned his attention to Malcolm Chandler. He had been forced to spend more time than usual with the short, slight man beside him. Normally their paths crossed once a year. Three times in as many days was excruciating.

"Chief?"

"Yes, Malcolm?"

"Which Officer is going to interview him? Who's best for the job?"

For a moment Maxwell could do nothing but stare at Chandler. His tact was appalling. "I'm going to interview him," he said. "Why would I leave it to someone else?"

Chandler started to reply but stopped when Maxwell yanked open the door beside the viewing window, stepped through and slammed it shut.

The noise made Richard look up. His legs were chained to the chair, his hands to the table. Maxwell crossed the room and sat down opposite him.

He cleared his throat and loosened his tie, squinted at Richard and ran a hand through his black hair. "Nice to see you again Sobel."

A crowd had gathered on the other side of the window. Everyone wanted to get a look and have a listen. Many thought this would be one of the most important interviews conducted in the building.

Richard said nothing.

"No reply?" Maxwell asked. A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"What would you like?" Richard said. "You want a hearty hello? Some sort of happy greeting? Sorry, I can't muster that."

Maxwell leaned back in his chair. He had been getting confessions out of perps long before the Sands Foundation negotiated the end of the Police Force and created the City Security Sector. It was all old hat – the bigger the challenge the more exciting the ride.

"You've had quite an adventure."

"Wasn't by choice."

"Evidence says otherwise, same with your actions. So explain the decisions you made. Change my opinion. Believe it or not, I hate being a hard ass but someone has to do it."

"Why ignore the obvious?"

Maxwell scoffed. "You mean the theory that you can't hurt anyone?"

"It's not a theory."

"Whatever it is I don't believe it."

"You don't believe science fact?"

"What I believe – from experience – is that anyone is capable of anything if they have the right motivation." Maxwell glanced at the two way mirror and smirked.

"And what might my motivation be to kill all those innocent people?"

"You tell me Richard – you ran – that screams guilty."

"I ran because it felt like the only option."

"You're hiding something."

"That's bullshit!"

"Prove me wrong."

"What's the point? Your mind is made up. I'll never walk from these murders no matter what I say!"

"Why not try?" Maxwell pulled some photos from the breast pocket of his uniform and placed them on the table. "Recognize any of these?' he asked.

"Of course," Richards eyes darted from a headshot of Jackie to a crime scene photo of the dead stranger and then to a family picture of Bernie Mills.