The cop and his suspect [Complete]

Chapter 1

Arthit's POV

I hadn't even entered the room yet and I could already see the boy sitting behind the large table, visibly shaking in his boots. His pale, ashen face making him look much younger than he probably was. His large, brown, doe eyes awash with panic as he kept sipping water nervously every two seconds.

Fucking brilliant! My first high profile case and the best lead I have is this skittish teenager. Now ideally I am not in the habit of treating a witness harshly, especially ones who just happened to stumble across a murder and are clearly too freaked to even sit still, but this case was clearly different. And with direct orders of suspecting absolutely everybody even remotely connected to the murder, the poor boy was going soon find out he is entangled in a rather nasty mess.

Which obviously means I slipped on my gruffest expression and walked into the room, methodically placing a recorder and pictures of the body on the table between us in the most intimidating manner I could manage. His very visible gulp indicating it had the desired effect. And just as I took a seat across from him, he raised his eyes to meet mine. The look in his eyes reflecting just how lost he was feeling, and for a split second I almost softened my expressions, before my dumb brain remembered what I was in here for and began the interrogation.

"My name is Arthit Rojnapat. I am the officer in charge of the murder. Is it ok if I ask you some questions?"

He gave a brief hesitant nod before I reached out and clicked on the recorder.

"What is your name?"

"Ko...Kong."

"Full name please."

"Uh, yeah so...sorry. Kongpob Shuttilak."

"How old are you?"

"Twe...twenty. Ummm...twenty one next month."

"Are you the one who discovered the body?"

"Ye...yeah."

He had cleared his throat over 10 times already in the few sentences we had exchanged, the large gulps of water he took continuously obviously not helping in getting his voice under control.

"Tell me more about what happened."

"I uh... I was just closing up, but cleaning everything took longer than I thought, and..."

"Hang on, closing up what?"

"The...the restaurant I work at."

"Which one is it again?"

"Jay's Noodle Shop. It's just around the block from the...from where I...you know..."

"Is it a full time job?"

"No. It's only part time."

"So what do you do the rest of the time you are not working?"

"I...uh...go to college."

"What are you studying?"

"Umm...Engineering."

"Third year?"

"Yeah..."

"What time do you work at the restaurant?"

"Uhh...6 to closing time."

"Which is at?"

"Around midnight..."

Finally the nervous edge to his voice fading as a pronounced frown took over his eyebrows, but before he realized I was asking one too many questions about him personally and his defenses went up, I quickly brought the conversation back to the topic at hand.

"So you were closing up around midnight, and then...?"

"Uh...yeah. I was cleaning up the tables and I noticed multiple 100$ bills so I grabbed it and ran behind Marty cause he was just there and he must have left it by mistake and ..."

"Wait, wait, wait. Slow down. Marty? Who is Marty?"

"Marty. The old man. The guy... that was...who was..."

"Hang on you are telling me you knew the victim? Personally?"

Did this kid even know the giant grave he was digging for himself? Suddenly treating him as a suspect didn't even seem like such a fringe idea anymore.

"Well, not personally, but..."

"But you did know him?"

"Yeah, I mean, he came by the restaurant mostly every night."

"Since when?"

"About...about three months, I guess."

"You are saying Mar...this Marty guy has been coming to your restaurant for three months?"

"Yeah...why? Is that odd?"

"Ok, let's continue then. What happened tonight?"

"I was cleaning his table after he left and I saw all the money, so I grabbed it and ran behind him, and just as I was about to take a turn I heard some muffled voices and then a gun shot. So I ran towards the sound and I saw Marty on the ground, and so I began running towards him to..."

"Why?"

"Huh? Cause I assumed Marty was shot and I was..."

"No, I mean why did you go after him with the money?"

"What?"

"I assume it was left as a tip? Why did you go running behind him with it then?"

"Why...Why is that important?"

His burgeoning frown had become a full blown scowl now. Perhaps the kid was finally catching on as to what he was getting involved in.

"It is important cause I say it is. Now answer my question please. Why did you go behind him with the money?"

"Because....because...."

"Anytime now."

"Because it was just so much money. It was literally more than my whole month's salary. He obviously left it by mistake. How would you feel if you forgot that much money somewhere? I was just trying to return it to him."

"You think he left it there by mistake?"

"Of...of course."

"And you think he couldn't afford that tip?"

"Obviously."

Confusion wrought on his face at my line of questioning. Either the kid was the most naïve boy I have ever met or he is a bloody fantastic actor. I think the case just got a lot more interesting.

"Are you seriously telling me you didn't know that this 'Marty' is the richest man in the country?"

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