THOU SHALT KILL: a murder by crucifixion unsettles a sleepy town (Detective Chief Inspector Jack Harris Book 5) by John Dean

Author:John Dean [Dean, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS bestselling crime fiction publisher
Published: 2018-09-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter twelve

‘So,’ said Jack Harris, staring across the interview room desk at the impassive Thomas Oldroyd, who was sitting with his arms folded and calmly returning the detective’s gaze, ‘you want to confess then?’

Oldroyd nodded but said nothing. It had been like that for the past hour and a half and Harris watched the young man with growing bemusement. Not normally someone who found himself drawn to people – Jack Harris was an animal person – the inspector nevertheless found himself fascinated by the suspect. Oldroyd’s calm demeanour had remained unruffled, and he had not spoken when Harris cautioned him for the murders when he was arrested in the farmyard.

On the journey to Levton Bridge Police Station in the police van, Oldroyd ignored officers’ attempts to talk to him and instead stared out at the expanses of water beginning to pool on the windswept fields. His silence had continued when he got to the police station where he had been bundled into the building, his head covered in a blanket to avoid the press photographers’ lenses as the van pushed its way past the throng of excited journalists.

Once inside, Oldroyd had seemed impervious to the looks from officers and civilians alike as they stared in fascination at a man who was capable of crucifying his victims. His only response had been the slightest of smiles at one point, as if he knew something they did not. Watching him now in the stuffy little windowless room with the bare white walls, Harris cast around for the best word to describe his demeanour. Serenity, that was the word, he decided eventually; Thomas Oldroyd was exuding serenity as if the world was passing him by. As if the seriousness of the situation held little anxiety for him.

Not for the first time in the past fourteen hours, Jack Harris thought about faith and fancied that he sensed greater powers than he at work. The inspector shook his head to banish the fanciful thought, replacing it with concern that, despite his composed demeanour, Thomas Oldroyd maybe really did not understand what was happening.

‘So, what do you want to confess to?’ asked Harris.

‘Not the murders of those men you mentioned,’ replied Oldroyd; his voice was quiet but confident. ‘I have never heard of that McGuffin bloke and I might not like Michael Hills, as he pretended he was called, but I would never kill him.’

‘So, what name did you know him by?’

‘John Halstead. His little charade did not fool me. I’m not saying that Halstead did not deserve to be murdered for his betrayal of those who took him into their hearts, Chief Inspector, but I would never resort to something like that. To commit murder goes against all my beliefs.’

‘Not to mention the law of the land.’

‘Your land, Chief Inspector.’

‘I like to think so,’ said Harris. ‘Anyway, whatever he’s called, you do admit to knowing him?’

‘I do not think that knowing someone is a crime to which one should admit, Chief Inspector. We are all brothers in the eyes of the Lord, are we not? Even sinners like John Halstead.

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