Promethean Shadows

by Patrick Jean-Jacques

  However, right now that was the least of his problems. He was now sitting in the back of a police van handcuffed. Will looked at the purple glow of uplighters as they flared up the exterior walls of the RC and admired their ambiance.

  As the police car pulled away, Will started to think about how he was going to explain everything to the police. He quickly realised that he was effectively their only suspect.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Police Inquiry

  As he sat and waited, Will looked around the inside of interview room and began to deconstruct its interior with a sort of mild curiosity. The walls had large lilac panels that stretched from the ceiling to a metre above the floor and surrounded the entire room.

  Will looked up at the ceiling judgmentally and noticed the tiles were also lilac, albeit a darker shade. There were recessed lights spread across the ceiling, which he thought made the room eclectic. Before Will knew it, he found himself starting to relax and warily sat up, more alert.

  Sitting on a wooden chair clearly designed for two, Will started to become uncomfortable and began fidgeting. He stared at the floor and looked at the dark-grey floor tiles. It didn’t escape him that it helped to retain the moody atmosphere of the room.

  Will was convinced that the intention of shrewd décor inside the room was to make suspects feel calm and unguarded. On top of the table was an old-fashioned tape recorder that had empty sections for four cassettes.

  Out of curiosity, he reached out and started touching it as if it was a priceless antique. However, when he saw the one-way window to his left, he quickly withdrew his arm and realised he was probably being watched.

  Will heaved a sigh that echoed across the silent room. The only other sound came from the fluttering second hand from the wall clock. The time on the clock indicated an hour had passed since he’d arrived and no one had spoken to him.

  The door opened and two detectives wearing suits entered the room. The male looked more solemn than his female partner, who had a more even-tempered presence. Will tried to anticipate their approach and wondered if they’d do a good cop/bad cop or bad cop/worse cop on him.

  They sat down authoritatively and for the next minute, neither person spoke. The female detective’s steely-green eyes were studying Will carefully. The man had dark shadows around his weary brown eyes, which suggested a man dedicated to his job. Will clasped his clammy hands tightly.

  The senior detective introduced himself, “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Don Limberg, this is Detective Inspector Samantha Hannah,” he said, as DI Hannah nodded politely.

  “Have you had something to eat drink or eat?” asked DI Hannah. Will shook his head by way of reply. “Don’t worry we’ll fix you up!”

  Will wasn’t expecting the softly-softly approach. In his head, he chastised himself for watching to many unrealistic cop movies. “I really don’t know what I can tell you.”

  “One moment,” said DI Hannah interrupting Will. She pressed a button on the recording machine and the motorized whirring initiated the spooling of the tape, “It’s Monday the 25th April, the time is 9:15 pm. DCI Limberg and DI Hannah are present in the interview room with the suspect.”

  “Suspect!” said Will, shocked. “Shouldn’t I have legal representation? I haven’t even done anything,” declared Will.

  “Officially, this is a routine enquiry,” said DCI Limberg “We treat everyone with suspicion, especially in a murder inquiry.”

  “From the beginning,” insisted DI Hannah. “State your name please!”

  “William Cox!” said Will nervously.

  “What were you doing at Etienne McDonalds office so late Will? Can I call you Will?” asked DCI Limberg intimidatingly.

  “Will’s fine!” he said, looking from one detective to the other. He took a breath, “The Professor left some messages on my phone.”

  “In relation to what, may I ask?” probed DCI Limberg.

  “He said he wanted to talk to me,” shrugged Will.

  “Does he normally call you at all hours?” asked DCI Limberg. Will looked at him and was barely able to conceal his surprise. “We checked his phone records, we know he called you several times,” he confirmed.

  “Getting calls from the Professor wasn’t a normal thing on any day, let alone late on a Friday,” replied Will. “He sounded weird!” he added.

  “Define weird,” insisted DCI Limberg.

  “You know strange,” replied Will. “Um, hesitant, distressed… scared.”

  Will looked at the two detectives, then realised that DCI Limberg had been asking all the questions and DI Hannah was watching. She was studying his reaction and body language.

  “Why would he be scared?” asked DI Hannah. Will shook his head by way of response. “Do you know if anyone had a grudge against the Professor? Or why anyone might want to hurt him?”

  Will became animated, “Hurt the Professor?” he replied. “Not that I’m aware.” He expected the next obvious question but when DI Hannah didn’t asked it, he guessed that she’d already decided he wasn’t capable of murder.

  “Do you think he had any suicidal thoughts?” DI Hannah continued.

  “The Professor, suicidal?” said Will incredulously. “No bloody way!” he added.

  Will continued to give the detectives as much information about Professor McDonald as he could. They could see that he’d nothing but admiration and respect for his deceased mentor. DI Hannah also realised that no matter how strong Will tried to act, he was in pain and grieving.

  She had seen those emotions in her job quite a bit and recognised the signs. The detectives gave Will a compassionate break when they saw his hands trembling. They provided him with some coffee and a sandwich. After the respite, they continued their interview.

  “What time did you get to Rowling College?” asked Limberg.

  “Around 7:30, 7:35 pm,” shrugged Will.

  DCI Limberg scratched his chin thoughtfully, “Surely, you must’ve suspected that something wasn’t right?” he asked.

  “I didn’t really give it any thought,” admitted Will. “Wouldn’t you have gone if it was someone you cared about?” he asked firmly.

  Di Hannah looked at her partner, keen to hear his answer. “I expect so Mr Cox,” replied DCI Limberg. “However, given my position and familiarity with the law, it’s not a decision that I get to make,” he added frankly. “Why do you think he called you?”

  “I don’t know! He trusted me I suppose,” replied Will, as he rubbed his tired eyes. “Am I going to be charged?” he asked, worried.

  “Only if you’ve committed a crime,” responded DCI Limberg. “Have you?” he asked directly.

  Will shot daggers at Limberg, “No,” he said in disbelief.

  “Officially, we could detain you for questioning for up to twenty-four hours,” said the DCI.

  “If we felt we had sufficient grounds,” finished DI Hannah, as she looked at her senior partner. “You were the only person at the scene Will, it’s not a good look!” she said.

  The detectives withheld the fact that forensics hadn’t found any incriminating evidence to match Will’s DNA but it wasn’t necessary for them to disclose that. They had a crime to solve and hoped Will could provide them with some much-needed information.

  The detectives looked at each other, then at Will. Knowing time was an issue, they changed tact. The inquiry took an interesting and unexpected turn for Will, when DCI Limberg sat back and allowed DI Hannah to take-over the questioning.

  “Did the Professor pass any sensitive materials on to you?” she asked.

  Will didn’t fully grasp the meaning behind the question but he pretended to think about the answer, “What do you mean sensitive?” he replied innocently.

  “Let me help you,” said DI Hannah confidently. “Investigating Different Energy Sources and Impacts on Consumerism, that’s your undergrad thesis, isn’t it?” she said, studying his face.

  “That’s a mouthful!” said DCI Limberg drolly.

>   “How’d you know that?” asked Will surprised.

  “It’s our job to know these things Will, we do background checks,” replied DI Hannah. “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” said Will. “But I don’t know about any sensitive materials. I e-mailed the professor work-in-progress and he e-mailed me feedback. That’s it!” he said firmly.

  Will felt the detectives knew more than they were letting on and suspected they were withholding something. In any event, both conclusions were right and he was more alert now.

  “Where’d you normally conduct your research?” asked DI Hannah.

  “Rowling College library, internet, journals… the usual places,” replied Will calmly.

  “What about the archives at the Chronicle?” DI Hannah asked knowingly.

  The penny dropped. After that particular question, Will realised that the detectives was trying to establish what he’d found at the Chronicle. He wasn’t sure why it was relevant to the detectives but he sensed there was a deeper agenda behind DI Hannah’s question.

  “What about the archives at the Chronicle?” said Will, reiterating DI Hannah’s question.

  DCI Limberg stared at him attentively, “As a Journalist, you had complete access to their archives, yes?” he added.

  “That’s Junior Journalist,” prompted Will. “And yes, I was granted that privilege by Daley Hackford, the Editor. So what?” he asked.

  “Well, there’s nothing to prevent you from removing sensitive information and passing it on to interested parties?” said DCI Limberg directly.

  “Define sensitive?” Will encouraged him.

  DI Hannah looked as if she was staring into Will’s souls, “News articles, files, pictures!” she said.

  “Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” said Will. “You’re implying I took sensitive material from the Chronicle and passed it on to Professor McDonald, which got him killed?” he said, annoyed.

  After Will reminded the detectives all the information and resources in the archives was already in the public domain and therefore, common knowledge. He made their theories about passing sensitive information seem flimsy.

  “We’re obliged to investigate every possibility Will, that’s our job,” said DCI Limberg. “Don’t you want to find out who killed the Professor?” he added manipulatively.

  Will barely finished nodding in agreement when DI Hannah changed the nature of the discussion yet again. She raised the incident that occurred around his apartments a few weeks ago. Specifically, she pointed out the fact that multiple bullet-holes from a Walther PPQ, a Glock-6 and 7.62 mm rifle had decorated the walls of his apartment block.

  There was one particular moment when Will had noticeably dropped his guard and reacted defensively. DCI Limberg, who’d seen military action in another life, explained his theory to Will with remarkable accuracy that impressed Will.

  “Obviously somebody tried to kill someone and somebody else, possibly a sniper, saved that someone,” looking directly at Will. “That’s a lot of gun play for peaceful city like Cambridge,” he concluded.

  “We can protect you,” DI Hannah offered. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  “I don’t need protection,” replied Will, dropping his guard. “I can look after myself detectives!”

  “Be that as it may,” said DCI Limberg. “You may or may not have something in your possession,” he acknowledged.

  “Something that someone wants badly, Will,” said DI Hannah gently. “Badly enough they’re willing to kill for it.”

  “Whatever ‘it’ is, whoever they are, they had no qualms about murdering Professor McDonald,” suggested DCI Limberg. “You might want to keep that in mind Mr Cox.”

  “It might be prudent of you search your flat, your e-mails, social network sites… check everything,” said DI Hannah. “If you find anything that might help us to help you, don’t keep it to yourself,” she urged.

  After ending the interview on an ominous note, the detectives allowed Will to leave. They both handed him their cards in the hope that he would contact them soon. As he walked out, he could feel their bureaucratic eyes judiciously following him out of the door. Unknowingly, DCI Limberg and DI Hannah had provided Will with even more of a clearer picture then he could’ve hoped.

  ✽✽✽

  Behind the one-way window, stood the tall man whose dark hair was neatly trimmed and his powerful physique was dressed in a smart charcoal Armani suit. He cut an imposing figure, when his roughened jawline moved as he spoke.

  “What do you think Chief Inspector?” he said calmly through the intercom.

  DCI Limberg sighed, “Well, he could be telling the truth. This could simply be a wrong person, wrong place scenario?”

  The man saw Samantha Hannah shaking her head from side-to-side, “You disagree, DI Hannah?” he asked.

  “He’s holding something back. I think he knows more than he’s letting on,” she speculated. “Maybe he’s caught up in something beyond his control or someone is manipulating him. But he knows something.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, he’s either very stupid or a very smart,” said DCI Limberg.

  “Either way, whatever he’s involved in, he’s way over his head,” said DI Hannah. “Then again, he’s a Journalist,”

  “Junior Journalist, detective,” said the man behind the one-way window dryly. “But you do have an excellent point.”

  “Do you want us to maintain surveillance?” asked DCI Limberg.

  “Not necessary!” replied the man with a calm authority. “You can stand down from here. My department will carry the ball from here, good work detectives!”

  Limberg and Hannah exchanged glances and raised eyebrows. The truth of their reality was that they were very grateful to have one less case to solve. Government cuts meant a reduction in personnel and a backlog of cases.

  “Our pleasure, Mr?” asked DI Hannah. “You never gave us your name.”

  The man pressed the button to on the intercom, “Kent! You can call me Mr Kent detectives. My superiors will be in touch!”

  Still stood behind the window on the wall, Mr Kent weighed-up the consequences of eliminating the two detectives. For all intent and purposes, they were loose ends but on the other hand, they were the good-guys who were just doing their jobs.

  If he chose to kill them, the station would be an extremely inconvenient venue, too many people saw him enter. If he chose not to, would they pursue their investigation out of instinct or a ‘gut feeling?’ ‘Decisions, decisions!’ he thought to himself while looking from one detective to the other.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Out of Body

  The next few days were predictably challenging for Will. The resumption of studies meant returning to the RC, the scene of a crime. Over the next few weeks, he’d become the focus of unwanted attention, more than he’d cared. As he walked through a gauntlet of fame and notoriety, students he didn’t even know welcomed him with unwanted questions about the Professor McDonald’s death.

  ‘I can’t believe…!’

  ‘Did you see...?’

  ‘Is it true?’

  ‘Was it true?’

  ‘Do you know who did it?’

  ‘You’re really brave!’ and on-and-on it went, relentlessly.

  Before the week was finished, Will was trending on the RC’s social media. Ally, Wes and Adam were an tremendous source of support. They shielded him from the palaver as much as possible, until it abated to the point where it became tolerable. Maya gave Will her complete support, remaining by his side protectively. Will had felt like he had his own personal bodyguards, as they were the only ones who understood his vulnerability.

  Later that afternoon, Will returned to the Chronicle. Etienne McDonald’s death hit Daley hard the loss of his friend had affected him. He swore bloody vengeance and made it his mission to use every means at his disposal to find the criminals.

  Daley insisted that Will took time off before returning to the Chronicle. He eve
n threatened to pull Will off his energy story but he wasn’t having none of it. He passionately argued that work was exactly what he should be doing. Eventually, Daley relented but not before giving him a few words of caution.

  Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, as Will engrossed himself in the completion of his final undergraduate paper. Will became so dedicated to his work that he’d isolated himself from everyone. He found a peace in his work, which helped to focus him.

  On several occasions, he was certain that his friends were tiptoeing around him and giving him ‘walking on eggshells’ glances. Paranoia slowly crept into his mind and an inadvertent outburst at Adam was a wake-up call. Will found the intimacy of Maya’s company helped pacify him. She seemed to be the only person who knew what to say and when to say it.

  Maya didn’t pry nor was she overly sentimental, which made him feel at ease. When he felt at ease, he could talk to Maya about anything, though they made a pact not to talk about anything personal or mention family. When Will wasn’t writing his thesis, Maya and him spent every moment they could together.

  Later one night at Maya’s place, an alarm went off abruptly and began pinging irritatingly loud inside Will’s head. Yet for all that, Maya remained soundly asleep with long hushed breaths purring from her mouth.

  Will didn’t understand why but his head throbbed wildly. It was as if someone was playing percussions inside his skull. He tried to recall the moment they fell asleep but he found it hard to see through the fogginess of his obscured thinking.

  In his head, Will tried very hard to think but he was unable to recall anything about the previous night. He gritted his teeth and tried to concentrate but he found that difficult. He caught himself glimpsing through the blinds and saw the darkness in the streets. The shimmer of moonlight and streetlight blend eerily.

  Will looked at the alarm clock that was sitting on top of the dresser and struggled vainly to interpret the time. He tried to fight the compulsions inside his head and understand why he couldn’t tell the time properly and how the alarm turned off.