Kill Who You Want

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Plot reminder: Vince Holloway is now in police custody. In the last chapter we learnt the identity of the third recipient (no spoilers)...

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DCI Yardley tipped down the last of his vending machine coffee, scrunched the polysterene cup into the flip-top bin. Smirking at Kubič, he then nodded towards the closed door of the interrogation room. "Think we've kept him waiting long enough now."

"Just a kid remember," Kubič urged. "Been through a hell of an ordeal. Go easy on him eh."

But Yardley was unprepared to take the advice of a man who's breath stank of vodka. No wonder investigations had so quickly ground to a halt. If only DCS Baines had had the balls to parachute him in right from the start, the Markham girl might well still be alive now. Mark Cosgrove too.

He bounded towards the door like a heavyweight boxer towards the ring, his opponent a cowering, frightened flyweight. This was going to be easy.

The boy looked up as the door flew open, his eyes wide like a deer trapped in rapidly approaching headlights. Beside him was the legal representative of the local social services, a woman who'd been introduced to Yardley as Jackie Goodwood. Rather than joining him on the other side of the table, Kubič had elected to stand propped against the wall, arms folded against chest. It seemed apt somehow, a physical representation of his having been pushed out to the edges, left on the sidelines. Watching Yardley's own interrogation skills would no doubt be an education for him. None of this bleeding heart liberal nonsense, not on your life.

"Not looking good Holloway," he began, once the attendees had been listed for the benefit of the interview recording. "Not looking good at all." Shaking his head, he tut-tutted under his breath. "We've got a bloody knife with your fingerprints all over it found near the scene. Four separate witnesses have just identified you in a line up. We've even got our own detective sergeant who just happens to live in the flat next to the victim and who saw you lurking around the complex car park yesterday morning. We don't actually need a confession Holloway. It would just make life a hell of a lot easier for all of us if you gave us one."

The boy's silence was both disappointing and surprising. Yardley wondered if the information they'd had from Ravensby Comprehensive had been accurate. The lad had left the previous July with 2 GCSE passes. Mid-range I.Q, no serious disciplinary problems.

"This silence of yours is counter productive you know Holloway. Want to taste freedom again any time before your fiftieth birthday, I'd strongly advise you to cooperate."

If this what they thought it was, the truth was that the boy was likely to get off on mitigating circumstances. A few months juvenile detention, a suspended adult sentence, nothing more than that. He didn't know that though, and until his family could get him properly lawyered up the threat of a prolonged custodial sentence was very much a card Yardley intended to play.

Kubič had now pulled up a seat at the table, was squeezing his lips together at the boy in greeting. "Brave thing you did today lad. Must've taken a lot of guts."

Was he hearing this right, Yardley wondered? The drunken sod was actually complimenting the kid for having committed murder.

"How'd you manage to go through with it? I mean, can't've been easy. Would've taken a lot of mental psyching up I imagine."

The boy glanced across at Goodwood, as if checking it was okay for him to speak. There was an encouraging nod in response.

"I just... just  kept thinking about my girlfriend  Julie," he replied. His wide eyes flicked between both detectives in turn.