Regrets

Chapter 20 - Who We Are

Song: Who We Are - Imagine Dragons

"Hey, I wasn't done with my call!"

"You were allowed to have a two minute call, and we can still call in a lawyer for you if you want", the policeman offered calmly. Marcus knew that. They had told him often enough already. But he didn't want anyone other than Michael. If only he at least remembered his full name.

"No. I wanna hear what you're accusing me of first. When's your boss coming in for questioning?", Marcus was tired. Having been picked up completely wasted at his nightshift in the store, he was still hungover and exhausted, even though it was already evening again.

"Any time now", the reply sounded slightly unnerved. Well, Marcus had asked that question for about the fifteenth time already, it was only natural for the man to be annoyed. Luckily for the officer, the door of the mostly empty room swung open soon after, preventing Marcus from asking that dreaded phrase again.

"Mr Reed", the tone of the man that had just come in was cold and calculating as he walked over to the sole table in the room, slamming down a file as he put both his hands on the table top.

"Present", Markus answered with a grin as he leaned back in his chair. He already knew how this was going to end, it was only a matter of time now. So he might as well enjoy himself.
"What's so important that you pull me from my job?"

"Precisely that, Mr Reed. And also, the phone call you just had. What was that about?", the tall intimidating man sat down in the chair opposite of Marcus and suddenly only looked half as tall and half as intimidating.

"Aren't phone calls confidential or something?", Marcus joked but only received an icy glare from the people around him.
"Okay okay fine. I was calling my flatmate. He has some problems, I'm just helping him out and letting him crash at my place", Marcus admitted to the police, trying to leave out all the important details.

"Alright we'll get back to that later. For now, let's talk about the reason you're sitting here, Mr Reed", the policeman offered, leaning forward in his chair a bit.

"You can call me Marcus, Mr Officer, sir", Marcus grinned. He had always been anxious for this moment, but he knew it would come to this eventually. Now that it happened, he felt calm, almost happy even. No more thinking, no more 'what if's. It was final.

"Mr Reed, I would appreciate it if you treated this as the serious issue that it is", the officer sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair again.
"So let's talk about James Font"

Marcus' heart sank a bit, setting out for a second or two only to start beating twice as fast as it had been before.

"Why him?", he groaned in annoyance. Shouldn't this talk be about his illegal work? Hadn't the investigations about James' death finished already? Wasn't that already over and done with? It had been at least two months since his death.

"His family insisted on a continuation of the investigations. We have since reviewed the autopsy results once again and found that Mister Font, in his state, shouldn't have been able to commit the suicide just because of his depression. He shouldn't have been able to even gather a clear thought due to his high intoxication. Furthermore, James Font did not own a gun, so the assumption that you drove him to fire that shot isn't far-fetched", the officer stated. Marcus was stunned for a moment. Maybe even more so over the fact that no one seemed to care about his illegal work status, than over the accusation of the manslaughter he supposedly committed on his best friend.

Marcus knew James was on medication, but this was the first time it was finally revealed to him what for. He had never cared for James' condition, never asked about it. Now that he knew, he didn't feel any different about it though. Why should he care? James was still just James.

"Aren't you leaving out the fact that I also do not own a gun?", the stern look on the officers face stayed unwavering though. Marcus sighed, "We got hella high and played a round of Russian roulette with a friend's revolver. It was fun"

The fact that James was the only one partaking in the round of roulette, Marcus didn't disclose. He knew it would only give them more basis for unfounded accusations if he did.

"Fun? Who was that 'friend'? And who is 'we'?", the officer sounded angry now. Of course he would, and Marcus didn't even have a satisfying answer to offer.

"Friend is maybe a bit to highly spoken... it's just a random dude from the neighbourhood... or at least the city I think. I don't know honestly, James and I just invited a bunch of people from bars over for a drink or many. They were all gone by morning, I didn't get any names and I was too high to even remember their looks", Marcus admitted. Although that was not entirely true; he did remember some faces, but he was not about to pull random strangers into this, especially since he knew no one except maybe he himself was to blame for James' death.

"Mr Reed, you're not necessarily making a good argument for yourself. At this rate, you might find yourself in prison faster than you think", the dark eyes of the policeman held some sort of sympathy, but his stature stayed firm and stoic, not leaving much room for an appeal to his emphatic side.

"I can only offer you the truth, sir. You can lock me up for that if you have to", Marcus offered. He knew this was probably his death sentence. Strangely enough, he didn't care all too much about that. It was boring without James anyway.

"I'm afraid we will have to put you in custody for now, until we find a lawyer for you, Mr Reed", the Officer sighed, apparently not happy with the outcome of the interrogation. Maybe he believed in Marcus' innocence and didn't want to lock him up, or maybe he wanted Marcus to admit the murder. Either way, the phone call was now forgotten, having lost its apparent importance.

Well, they now had a lot of time to ask Marcus about it anyway. The rest of the forty-eight hours, to be exact.