AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She thrust her fists inside her coat pockets.
Shaw left the room.
The door to the interrogation chamber opened. Two blackcoats escorted the irritated figure of Patrick Wilson inside. They ran a chain through his cuffs and into a metal loop on the ground. He still wore his golden jacket, ripped at the shoulder and armpit from all his futile flopping around during his arrest. They had him sit on a wooden stool not unlike the one in her father’s office. He laid his elbows on the table, the only piece of furniture in the bare room while they shortened his chains with a padlock.
Then the blackcoats left.
Chief Shaw and his colleague, Dr. Adams, entered shortly after, both pushing heavy office chairs before them. Dr. Adams was thin, middle-aged, and wore a tailored burgundy coat and breeches.
As an attorney and psychologist, Dr. Adams’s role was to circle, dodge, and strike, getting closer and closer to any information the target held while keeping their questions within the realm of the law. It was important for the High Council of Judges to note what data a suspect had given up freely to the authorities before any truth serum was introduced. It helped them ascertain the most fitting sentence after trial.
Lila hated the circus of it all. This dancing about with a witness was hardly worth the trouble in Patrick’s case. The law did nothing to protect traitors to the commonwealth, and as someone who planned to travel to Germany with a German citizen, Patrick could not be considered anything but a traitor. Legally, Bullstow could do anything they liked to him, just shy of torture.
But the niceties must be observed.
Dr. Adams sat in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Tell us your side of the story.”
She watched the pair work on Patrick, with Dr. Adams offering platitudes and gentle nudging, and Chief Shaw offering nothing at all but question after question. Shaw had not even removed his blackcoat or sentry cap before diving in.
But after two hours, they had gotten very little.
Chief Shaw leaned back in his chair and cut his eyes toward Lila. He scratched his forehead, lifting his cap ever so slightly.
It was a sign.
It was finally Lila’s turn.
Shaw cranked up his earpiece.
Lila pulled her headset’s microphone closer to her mouth. “Ask him about Zephyr.”
Shaw echoed her question, and Patrick’s head snapped up, his eyes instantly latching on to the glass in the back of the room. He knew at once that someone else had been behind it, perhaps even knowing who.
“I don’t know anyone named Zephyr.”
“As I mentioned before,” Dr. Adams said, “the more information you give us freely, the less likely you are to see a noose.”
“I’m not stupid. The visas will see me hanged. It’s only a matter of when.”
Shaw snorted. “How many family members do you want hanged beside you?”
“Don’t answer that,” Dr. Adams advised. “Chief, you cannot intimidate a suspect in that manner. It could be perceived as a threat.”
“It’s not a threat. We have every right to bring in each and every member of his family for interrogation. Should they say anything suspicious, we also have the right to search all their personal data for links to his case. That’s bound to net quite a bit of trouble for them, judging by the state of his family’s compound. I’m just warning him what will happen if we have to dig deeper to find our answers. Is that what you want, Mr. Wilson? Do you want company in your holding cell?”
Patrick stared at the floor, picking at the hem of his jacket. “Zephyr is no one. He just gives me information or advice sometimes when he thinks I need it.”
“He? You’ve seen Zephyr?”
“No, but I’ve heard his voice plenty of times.”
“What sort of information does he give you?”
“All kinds.”
“Did he tell you where to find Ms. Schreiber?” Lila prompted.
Patrick’s head shot up when Shaw repeated the name, and his eyes darted around the room. “Yes.”
