In Shadows Deep by Alex Teasdale

Author:Alex Teasdale [Teasdale, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-20T00:00:00+00:00

45

Thomas Mitchel was the true embodiment of ‘ugly as fuck’. Nasty hollow eyes, crusty, dry skin. His breath reeked of something rotten, which was possibly his teeth, half of which were missing, and the other half were brown stumps. They had picked him up while renovating one of the swanky bars near the canal where Thomas Mitchel was working as a construction apprentice, a job that should have been beneath him on paper. He may look and sound thick, but that resulted from years of sniffing glue or whatever it was he did. He’d got himself some A-levels and had even started a degree in English Literature at the University of Central Lancashire. That was years ago now.

They’d taken him back to the station under protest from Mitchel and his boss. Lucas was now sitting opposite him in his favourite, uncomfortably hot, claustrophobic interview room three, dazzled by the sheer repellent nature of his face. His voice wasn’t any better, as he was from Manchester for a start. He was on his own, no solicitor. Legally, he didn’t have to have one, as it was technically a voluntary interview. They may have dragged him from work but hadn’t arrested him. Of course, if the idiot requested one, they’d have to stop, but until then, he was fair game. It was time to warm him up; there’s no need to press the record button just yet.

‘What’s wrong with having a part-time job, mate?’ he said, his voice nasally like he had a horrible cold.

‘Nothing. Working as a litter picker for Leeds Fest is a noble thing to do, Thomas. Or are we talking about you selling class-A drugs cut with brick dust and worming tablets to young girls? Which part-time job are we talking about here?’ Lucas wasn’t in the mood to mess about.

‘Woah, calm down, mate. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never done drugs myself.’

‘You were kicked out of university for selling weed on campus. Your nose is ready to collapse, and I can see the track marks up your arms,’ said Lucas without blinking.

‘Ah, yes. Well. Fair enough, pal, you got me. But I wasn’t selling drugs at the festival.’

‘Fair enough. If you say so. The problem is, we have your DNA on a high-visibility jacket we found caked in drugs, we have witnesses to you selling said drugs, and we have CCTV footage of you selling them.’ Very little of this was true, and he was in breach of the law by saying this. But he reasoned Thomas Mitchel was too raddled by drugs to know this, and it might scare him into telling them something useful. It looked like it was working because he had gone paler and his smug expression had dropped considerably.

‘I didn’t know they had CCTV there. It’s a field…’ he said.

‘On the telegraph poles’ lied Lucas. He could see the cogs turning in Mitchel’s skull. They dropped into place one by one, and he began to sing.

‘OK, so yeah, I sold some drugs.

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