The Cold Light Of Day by Joe Zalias

Author:Joe Zalias [Zalias, Joe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Police, Mystery, Crime Fiction, the cold light of day, Crime, joe zalias
Publisher: Cyanide Publishing
Published: 2019-06-02T22:00:00+00:00

40

Matthew gathered his thoughts and stepped through the door of the police station. The desk duty officer looked up at him, and a young couple in the waiting room stared wide-mouthed, just stopping short of pointing.

“I’m here to hand myself in,” Matthew said as loud as he could. The gawping spectators might as well have something to talk about.

“I’ll only talk to detective Rowe.”

A barrel shaped officer with comical short legs and a shirt that wouldn’t tuck in and hung below a sizeable gut, handcuffed Matthew.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say may be used as evidence against you in a court of law. You have a right to a legal representative. If you cannot afford one, we will provide one for you.”

Matthew nodded his understanding.

Soon he found himself in an interview room. His left hand (the one without the bandage) was handcuffed to a purpose-built stainless-steel bar that was welded to the desk. The stainless desk and two steel chairs were the only furnishings in the room. A huge mirror spread across the wall Matthew faced and knew well enough there would be people looking at him from the other side already. He was left to sweat for thirty minutes before detective Rowe walked in.

Matthew stared at the man’s eyes, hoping for eye contact with which he might project his sincerity. None came. Rowe simply walked to the desk with a notepad and sat opposite Matthew. He sat, as if oblivious to Matthew’s presence and slicked his hair backwards. To Matthew, it appeared that Rowe had probably been using the same amount of hair gel to slick his hair for all his adult life and had not modulated the amounts in response to his hair loss.

Then all at once, the eye contact came. Rowe looked into Matthew’s eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

“We can talk if you want. Or we don’t have to,” Rowe said. “We have enough evidence and witness testimony to put you away for life without ever having to speak.”

Matthew was careful with his eye contact. He didn’t want to break it and appear guilty but thinking about it made it feel forced and unnatural. Too much eye contact might appear sinister.

“I’ve come to tell you the truth. And more importantly than my own life, there’s a chance of rescuing a six-year-old girl who is likely being held by a tory MP and being used as a sex slave. I hope you feel finding her and bringing those responsible for her trafficking more important than a quick win and wrongly convicting me of murders I didn’t commit.”

Rowe raised an eyebrow.

“How many times did you practice that line in the mirror this morning?”

Matthew couldn’t help but smile. “A few.”

Rowe smiled back. “You have my intrigue. I’ll give you that. However, as much as I love a good story, you know what I love more?” Rowe raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response.

“Hair wax?” Matthew asked.

Rowe laughed. A genuine laugh that made him tilt his head back.

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