Initial

by S Thomas Thompson

  17

  As soon as Augustine walked into the room, he could see that there was some tension between the lawyer and his client. He wasn’t quite sure what it was straight away but saw it as a way to progress the enquiries. He would ask questions as normal but try to keep an eye on the reactions and body language between the two. He was sure it would give away some clues as to what was going on. He was glad that he had Electra sat beside him; she was the expert in picking up all of this.

  “Do either of you want a drink?” asked Augustine after he had gone through the formalities. He always wanted the people he spoke to in the course of an investigation to be at ease. He thought that all that ‘good cop – bad cop’ stuff was for TV shows only. The more relaxed the person you were speaking to, the more you were likely to get anything out of them. That was his theory, anyway. Augustine wanted to get on with things, but knew he had to build to this. This was one occasion where he had to keep his cards close to his chest, no matter how tempting it was to throw them all on the table and declare that he was the winner. Cal Green was too long in the tooth for that game.

  Cal Green was the lawyer of all the seedier characters in town. As soon as a suspected gang member or repeat criminal was arrested, Augustine already knew the answer to the question, “who is your lawyer?” The man who tried to make all of the criminals in town look as innocent as possible was Cal Green. He had files on his clients of all the charity work they had done, the people they had helped and a group of accomplices that were willing to provide an alibi for anyone caught in a sticky situation. It wasn’t that none of his clients ever got sent down, but that it was rare and it was a difficult case to investigate. In fact, Augustine and Cal had been in the same interview room together so many times that it felt like they were talking to each other. The different accused sat between them every time changed month by month, but a similar conversation ensued. The words ‘no comment’ were the most frequent uttered from the mouth of those he represented. But this didn’t feel like all the other interviews to Augustine. Cal was flustered and it was obviously something that had been said between the two before Augustine entered the room. He was dying to find out what it was.

  “Where were you on the evening to early morning of 1st July?” asked Augustine in the matter-of-fact tone that he had perfected in these situations. It gave nothing away.

  “I was at a business awards until 11pm. After that I don’t remember. I’d had a few drinks and I probably just went home,” replied Scott Sharpe. He could feel the eyes of his solicitor boring holes in the side of his skull. I was obvious to Augustine and Electra that this wasn’t the answer that Cal Green wanted him to give. Scott’s eyes were twitching. The bright blue flashed on and off like a switch as his eyelids covered and then uncovered them. Electra couldn’t take her own eyes of them. He looked like a poster-boy for the political party he represented. It surely wasn’t chance that Jeff Caine had chosen him to be second in command. But where had that ended up?

  “And how about last night? Where were you last night between the hours of 11pm and 4am?” asked Augustine in the same manner. He wanted to get these two dates and times fixes in the mind of everyone in the room from the outset. The whereabouts of the suspect at these two times was crucial to Augustine. If he could throw enough doubt on that then he had something to go on.

  “I went out in the city for a while. I drove around and spoke to a few random people. It is what politicians do, isn’t it?”

  “Not at that time of night, Scott. That isn’t my experience of politicians, anyway. Were any of the people you spoke to prostitutes?”

  That set Scott back. He knew that the press had their story about him but for some reason he didn’t think that it was common enough knowledge to have reached the police too. He didn’t really want anyone to know anything about it. That was the best way he could keep control of the situation, but when the story got out he consoled himself with the fact that it was only the press. He might be headline news one day but the next, something else would come along and he could crawl back under his stone. The press loved to build people up, knock them down and build them up again. He could do the whole redemption thing in the public eye. He may have more problems looking in the eyes of his wife and kids but he could deal with that in private. But now he knew the police had all the details about his private life, it was only a matter of time before he would discover friends knew all along, Scott thought to himself. He felt in control up to that point. He thought that he could take his time, toy with the police and give the answers that he wanted. It wasn’t until his solicitor turned up and tried to tell him what to do that he felt any pressure at all. Now that the detective sat opposite him was asking about prostitutes, he felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on his forehead. He stalled as long as he could but was painfully aware that the rest of the room were looking for him, waiting for an answer. He just wasn’t sure what the right answer was any more.

  “Yes, they were among the people I spoke to. They have a vote too. You never know when the next election might come along and I need to garner all the votes I can get,” Scott replied in a manner that showed he might be back on the offensive again. But it was short lived. His solicitor saw to that.

  “I told you before we began that you don’t have to say anything. I suggest that your standard response is ‘no comment’ from now on,” Cal Green explained to Scott as if he were a four-year-old that needed guidance to answer the basic questions that were being put to him.

  Scott wore a resigned look on his face for the rest of the interview and plainly ignored the instructions from his lawyer. He was open and honest with every answer and confessed that he was a frequent visitor to the red-light district of town. He told the detectives that he had a habit that he had never been able to kick since his charm wore off but his libido didn’t follow. He and his wife had drifted apart in the bedroom since they had children. Scott Sharpe treated the interview as though it was some kind of confessional. From the look on his face as he spoke about the number of times a week he went to the red-light district, the amount he spent there and the last time he was there, Electra felt he was absolving himself of all the sins he had carried out. If he admitted to this, then what else was he willing to admit to. She wanted Augustine to go both barrels at him, but just as they got to the interesting part Gus stopped. He said that he was going to go outside and get a cup of tea. He offered Scott and Cal the same privilege. Both declined. Electra followed Augustine out of the room and headed to the vending machine down the hall. The coffee there was shit and the tea was even worse, but it was wet and warm. They really didn’t have much choice without leaving the building. Neither had the patience to stand next to a kettle while it boiled.

  Electra took her first sip. She knew just as well as Augustine the number of times Cal Green had been present in the interview rooms, so it was no wonder he declined when offered a drink. He probably tried it once years before and still had that horrible taste in his mouth. She knew it was a difficult taste to remove but wanted to keep Augustine company and find out what the hell he was doing walking out when it just got to the interesting part. She had resisted the temptation to try to keep him in the room. She had even bitten her tongue when they got out into the corridor. But with a fresh cup of, well something, in her hand she took him to another vacant room and closed the door behind them.

  “Gus, what the fuck?” she cursed. She hated to swear but he had made her feel like they were letting him slip through their fingers. Especially with that slimy lawyer in the room with him. He was probably briefing Scott now to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the time they had left. Cal Green knew the way that the system worked and could get his client out before they had enough time to get the answers they wanted. Questioning the suspect the first time was always far easier. They were often not expecting the questions, would not have had as much time to prepare their answers and didn’t have slimy bastard lawyers like Cal Green in their ear for weeks befo
re. She knew that and Gus knew it too. She was desperate to get their killer and draw a line under this.

  “Something doesn’t feel right,” Augustine slowly replied as though he had to put a great deal of effort into putting those four words together in a coherent format. He was looking out into space as though he was trying to grasp something that wasn’t quite real. Electra was confused but let him have a few moments to reach out for the thing only he could see before trying to start the conversation again.

  “Gus, he feels perfect for the killer. He has a sex habit that wouldn’t be out of place in a porn studio and has sent threatening emails to the man we found murdered this morning. Not only that, we caught him trying to leave the country without his wife even knowing that he was at the airport. He doesn’t sound innocent. He doesn’t feel innocent. Even if you take that lawyer out of the equation, he still looks guilty,” she spoke in rapid fire in direct contrast to the laboured speech that Augustine was delivering.

  “So why is he so open? Why is he telling us all the things that lead us to believe it is him? Guilty people don’t generally do that. Guilty people who have Cal Green as their solicitor definitely don’t do that. And we haven’t even asked him about Jeff Caine yet. It doesn’t make sense,” Augustine bounced the words off the wall as though they would make more sense to him when out in the open. He wasn’t looking at Electra and she wondered if he even remembered if she was in the room. She kicked the desk just to remind him.

  “You saw it in there,” Electra volleyed back. “He was confessing to his sins. It was like he was bathing in holy water the way that the light returned to his eyes when he told you of his habit. He wants us to know that he is guilty. He wants us to know that he is done.”

  “So why did he run?” Augustine used this sentence to end the conversation. Electra knew him well enough to understand that it was pointless going any further. Once Augustine Boyle had made up his kind it was always going to be made. He had to finish the interview and go through the motions but even if Scott Sharpe would confess to everything, which was incredibly unlikely now they had left him alone with the lawyer, then Augustine still wouldn’t be convinced he had the right man. She followed him back to the interview room.

  As soon as Augustine’s backside hit the chair he began speaking again. But to Electra it wasn’t the same man in the chair. He was asking the questions but without the same level of inquisition or clarity as before.

  “What was your relationship with Jeff Caine like?” Augustine started. He had moved on from the prostitute and towards the celebrity politician in much the same way he lamented the attention of the press. He was just like them, he scolded himself. But he was too far away in terms of thought to even be upset by the realisation he was the same as the rest. He wondered if they were wasting their time questioning this guy when the real killer was probably still out there plotting the next one.

  “I understand that you have had dealings with Mr Caine yourself detective,” Scott retorted as he looked towards his lawyer. This time Cal gave him nothing but a smile that displayed he was pleased with the answer.

  “I’m not sure how that is relevant, but I have dealt with him. But nothing on the same level as you.”

  “Then you will know how difficult he is. When you last dealt with him did you leave with the feeling that you wanted to hurt him? He left most people with that feeling. Over time he left me feeling like I wanted to hurt him more. But kill him? I don’t have it in me.”

  Augustine was taken aback that Sharpe had gone straight at the subject. Earlier in the interview he seemed as though he would dance around the houses all day. Now he was taking the conversation along to the conclusion when Augustine wasn’t quite sure he wanted to go there.

  “You have sent him emails threatening the exact same end he came to overnight. Does this feel like a coincidence to you? I don’t believe in coincidence Scott. I live in a world where the most likely person to commit a crime is usually guilty. I have done this for some time now,” Augustine continued saying the words that suggested he was pressing a suspect for details. But there was little tenacity in those words. Electra knew he was resigned to going through the motions.

  “I can see why you have to question me over the death of someone that I have fallen out with spectacularly. But the simple fact is that I didn’t do it. And I don’t know why you have brought my liaisons with ladies of the night into this. I am assured by my lawyer that this has nothing to do with the death of Jeff Caine and I will be making a formal complaint,” Sharpe announced as though it was a matter of upmost importance.

  Augustine and Electra looked at each other. Was this a bluff or did he really have no idea a prostitute died with a connection to Jeff Caine? Electra thought the former while Augustine thought the latter. But no matter how much he tried to listen to his doubts, the evidence looked pretty damning against the man he was sat opposite. He was suspected to have frequented the woman who was found in the alley. He was known to have a preference for his paid sexual conquests to be wearing a suit and he had told the man they found dead that very morning that he was going to kill him.

  Augustine cut to the chase to test his theory of innocence. “You have visited this sex worker many times before, we believe. She was found dead with similarities to Jeff Caine. I have to say that you are the only person we are speaking to in connection with this. It doesn’t look good Scott,” explained Augustine as the shadow of innocence washed away from Scott’s face. Electra reached over with an envelope. Augustine lifted the flap and removed the contents. He slid it over the desk in the direction of the suspect and his lawyer. The two of them looked at it and then looked away. It was a photograph taken as tastefully as possible that showed the face of the first victim, the girl in the alley.

  “Do you know this girl?” asked Augustine in the gravest voice he could muster. He had practiced the voice for years before perfecting it. The first time he heard a senior detective using a grave voice he was impressed. He had spent hours in front of the mirror since to get it just right. He felt as though it was delivered perfectly this time. The practice had paid off.

  “Yes, I do know her. I have been to see her. I believe that she was the one that sold my story to the papers. We had an argument…”

  “Scott Sharpe. I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of this woman and of Jeff Caine. You will be taken into custody now,” Augustine repeated his grave voice. The only other voice heard before Scott Sharpe left the room was his lawyer.

  “I told you to say, ‘no comment’ didn’t I?” Cal Green added in the most unhelpful way. This was a case where he had lost the first round. He wasn’t used to it. And he didn’t like it one bit. Cal Green muttered under his breath as he left the station that he would be back and that Scott Sharpe would walk free. Augustine didn’t hear him. By that time, he was sat back at his desk mulling over the last few days with a feeling that it might not all be over. Although his bosses would be happy that he got his man, Augustine would only be happy when all the evidence was dragged out in court and Scott Sharpe was shown to be guilty beyond all doubt. There was a long way to go before that would happen.

  18

  The next few days for Augustine were ones where he had time off work. He hated these days at the best of times, but when he had something going over and over in his mind, they were even worse. He was searching for the piece of information that would confirm the suspicions he had about Scott Sharpe being innocent. But without the case notes, the evidence and someone to sound off, it was never going to happen. Augustine had always worked better with others. Even back to his days at university, he didn’t thrive when working alone. He sought out someone else to sit and write with whenever there was an essay due. This way he could ask questions, test theories and develop his ideas. He was never quite sure what the other person got out of the situation, but he knew that it worked incredibly well for him. And this continued to his working life. He could ask people what they thought, check some of his theo
ries and listen to how other people saw the situation. This way he could develop his thoughts to a point where they felt sharpened to him. They felt as though they were fully developed and ready to use. Without the benefit of conversation and discussion he didn’t have a lot of faith in his theories. With the light of discussion thrown on them, he believed in them totally.

  But over the first two days away from work he wasn’t able to do this. The ideas came and went. Something at the back of his mind kept on telling him that there was doubt but he never quite saw enough of the thought to draw it to the front of his brain. He gave up on the third morning and went into the office anyway. It was as though he was expected. Nobody batted and eyelid when he walked through the door. They knew he couldn’t stay away for very long.

  “Morning Gus,” Electra greeted him without even lifting her head from the work she was doing. She didn’t even need to turn around as his gait and aftershave gave him away. After years of wearing a different aftershave every day he had recently decided to settle on a favourite and stick to it. Obviously that decision meant that his presence was obvious even when he wasn’t expected and when the other person couldn’t see him. He knew that he would make a lousy criminal, and this just confirmed that for him.