The Interrogator

by J J Cooper

  Jay greeted her at the door. 'Hello, Agent Evans.' He watched closely for a shocked response as he used her real name instead of the cover name she had given.

  Sarah raised her sunglasses and smiled. 'Hello again, Jay. Glad you remembered me. Coffee on, or are you having a scotch and dry before lunch?' She walked past him into the living room, placed her backpack on the lounge and turned back.

  'Been reading my file?' he asked. 'Surprised you're still keeping track of me. Nice to see you've improved with your body language and verbal reactions, Sarah. I'll forgive you for the false credentials over the phone. Would you prefer scotch or coffee?'

  'Coffee, standard NATO.' She looked him over. 'What happened to you?'

  Jay moved past her and into the kitchen. He knew the bruising on his face wasn't as bad as it felt and figured she must have been asking about the scratches from Catherine. 'Training.'

  'Training must be getting tougher in the army – scratching instead of beating now.'

  Jay ran his hand over the marks. 'Something like that.'

  Sarah turned her attention to the memorabilia on the walls. 'Your dad must be very proud of you. Sticking up all your medals and decorations for everyone to see.'

  'Guess so. He doesn't get many visitors.' Truth was, Jay didn't care much for displaying medals, certificates and decorations, but it made his dad proud to have them hanging on the walls.

  The lounge-room was sunk a couple of steps below the kitchen and he watched over the bench as Sarah paused to read the framed letters from the Governor-General and Prime Minister. He finished making the coffee while she walked around the lounge-room reading the various citations.

  Balancing the two drinks in his good hand, he brought them back around the counter. Sarah took up a seat directly opposite him.

  'Cut to the chase, Sarah. You know I don't like games, remember? What do you want?'

  'I know that we're acquainted, in a way. But please remember that I'm an NSIS agent and here to ask you some questions in an official capacity.' She sipped her coffee and waited for a response.

  Jay leaned forward and placed his cup on the table. 'I'm well aware of who you are. As you're well aware of who I am. No more bullshit. I have things to do. What do you want?' He focused on her eyes, waiting for the reaction he wanted. She didn't flinch. He was impressed. She wasn't as naive as he had remembered. The eyes never lie.

  'Lazarau. What's your connection with him?' she asked.

  'No connection.'

  'Come on, Jay. That was an open question and implied some clarification of what you know. Like you said – no more bullshit.'

  'Fair enough.' He had calculated his response since her call earlier that morning. 'Since you rang I've been looking into it. Truth is, I hadn't heard of him before today. Of course, I've heard whispers within the community that some idiot tried to sell a few secrets and got caught. Didn't know a name, didn't want to know about it. Always thought that whoever it was could rot in hell for all I care. I called in a couple of favours and got a story, whether it's accurate or not I don't know.' He leant back in his chair waiting for the predictable response.

  'Who gave you the information?' she asked.

  'See, there it is. I just gave you a choice. You could've asked one of two questions: what information, or who was the source. Had you chosen to ask me about the information, you might have built enough rapport to reveal my source in a moment of weakness, although it's unlikely. But you chose a question that you know I won't answer. Shows a lack of understanding of your subject.'

  Sarah blushed behind her coffee mug. Jay felt pleased with his preparation. He never forgot an interrogation. He had remembered her weakness, a slight tinge of red when she was lying or put in a difficult spot. It also proved she was still intimidated by him. He went to the kitchen, leaving her to recover some composure. He brought back two cans of scotch and dry and placed one in front of her. After pushing his near-full coffee aside, he opened his can and took a swig. 'You obviously need my help and I need yours,' he said, studying her movements as she opened her can. He was surprised she went for the scotch. It was a test. He didn't feel like drinking his, especially at that time of the day. But a good interrogator will do what they can, within reason, to build rapport. Accepting and drinking a scotch at that time of day is good rapport. She had gained his respect in that regard.

  'I'm listening,' she said.

  He told her the information he'd received about Lazarau and the missing links to the document in his father's computer. He didn't mention his own interrogation by the Primroses or the Sub Rosa tattoo. Sarah lounged in the chair opposite and drained her can. Jay raised his eyebrows, impressed.

  'Lazarau is dead. Took a shank late last night in general population,' she said.

  This wasn't in Jay's script. He took in the information before replying. 'Shit. What the hell were you lot thinking putting him in there?'

  'I talked to him yesterday at our facility. We had no idea he was going to be moved.'

  'By "we", I assume you mean the Agency?' he asked.

  'Yes. We wouldn't have moved him until after the trial. The Deputy Director is looking into it as we speak.'

  Jay smiled. 'Keith will be really happy about that. About time too. He's had a fairly smooth run as the Deputy Director until now.'

  'I'm aware of your relationship with Deputy Director Harper and the Director. Which reminds me, both wanted me to give your dad their regards. Is he around?'

  Jay gave a little nod. 'Dad talks to Patrick Goodwin all the time. If he wanted to say hello he would have called. They know he's not here and so do you. That's why I need your help. I've got no idea where he is and I need your resources to find him.'

  She took her time to respond. 'I'll have to notify the Deputy Director first, but of course I'll offer you what I can,' she said.

  The exact response Jay had expected. Never offer or promise a subject something you can't follow through with. 'Good. Let's make that official.' He took out his mobile and started dialling.

  'Who are you calling?' she asked.

  'Your Deputy Director.'

  'Hold on, Jay. I should be the one calling him and I don't think this is the appropriate. . .'

  'Do you have his personal number?' he asked.

  'Well...'

  'Shh, it's ringing. Here, you talk to him then.' He threw the phone across to Sarah, enjoying putting her on the spot.

  The conversation between Sarah and Keith Harper lasted less than two minutes. Sarah briefed him on the situation and, from what Jay could hear, he assumed assurances were given that resources were available to help track down his father. Her eyes kept darting between the polished floorboards and Jay for the duration of the call. She hung up and placed the phone on the table.

  'I'd appreciate it if you didn't pull that kind of shit again,' she said.

  'I'm unpredictable like that. What did Keith say?'

  'We work on this together. My lead. Comprende?'

  'Sure. Where do you want to start, Agent Evans?'

  'A strong coffee and we don't go anywhere until you tell me what happened to your hand.'

  'I told you. Training.'

  'No. I'm not going anywhere or starting anything to do with your father until you tell the truth. Every time I mention Lazarau, you grab for the bandage. Like you are now.'

  Jay had put the bandage back on before Sarah arrived. He didn't know he was playing with it while they had been talking; however, he was impressed she had noticed.

  He smiled. 'Touché.'

  TEN

  Jay had calculated the benefits and risks of telling Sarah about the events of the last few days. His hand throbbed under the bandage and he was stiff from the bruising to his ribs. He went to the bathroom and swallowed some painkillers. Fatigue caught up with him and he yawned. He realised he could use the Agency's help in tracking down his father and had to trust Sarah. The choice was made. He washed his face and went back to the lounge-room.

  'What I
'm going to say to you does not go in your report. It stays between you and me until I figure it out.'

  'We figure it out.'

  'We figure it out, then. I need to know that you'll not say anything until I say so.'

  'That's a tough ask. You know what I do. I can't lie to my bosses.'

  It was an anticipated response from an NSIS agent. Jay had grown up surrounded by agents and knew their values and behaviours and their code of conduct. 'I'm not asking you to lie, just not to say anything until we have a few more facts,' he said.

  'This had better be good.'

  Perhaps unbelievable, he thought. 'I wouldn't exactly say it's good. Do I have your word?'

  'For now. What is it?' she asked.

  Jay started with the interrogation. He detailed the beatings, having his hand nailed to the table, being tattooed and urinated on. Sarah sat forward and displayed a range of emotions, from shock to disgust. She let him speak without interrupting. He mentioned the Sub Rosa statement from Primrose and the threat to his father, his escape and the ransacking of his room. He told her about the message on his father's computer and the intruder. The only things he didn't mention were his sexual encounter with Catherine Primrose and the video being used to blackmail him. The reason for not mentioning them yet was that he had allowed himself to be compromised and it embarrassed him.

  'This is out of control,' she said. 'I want to make sure I heard you right.'

  Jay yawned, sat back and started to unwind the bandage. 'I'm listening.'

  'Last night you had a few drinks with the Primroses. You wake up battered and bruised in a secret interrogation facility. First assumption would be that they slipped something in your drink.'

  He thought back to the drinking session. 'I'd say that for a fact. No other way to get me there without me remembering it, no matter how much I had to drink.'

  'OK, I'll go with that. Clearly Catherine Primrose shouldn't have been there and this is when you first realised it wasn't a training exercise. Why haven't I heard of this secret facility?'

  'Wouldn't be a secret if we told everyone about it.'

  She bit down on her lip and continued. 'It's obviously guarded, so how did they get you there without being seen?'

  'Secret facility wouldn't be complete without a secret entrance.'

  She rolled her eyes. 'I've got to see this place. So, then you get a beating and have your hand nailed to a table, which, I might add, is truly sick.'

  'Can't argue with you there.' Jay was pleased that Sarah had begun to empathise with his plight. It certainly would make it easier to convince her of the Primrose mindset. He needed her help.

  'You get pissed on and tattooed, both disgusting, and Warren Primrose mentions this Sub Rosa stuff. Something about keeping secrets?'

  'From what I can recall. I was fairly out of it by then and I haven't followed it up yet.'

  She nodded. 'Something we'll need to do. Show me the tattoo.'

  Jay finished unrolling the bandage and leaned forward again. He held out his hand for Sarah to see. She moved forward and took his hand in hers, raising it closer to her eyes. Her soft touch sent a shiver down his spine.

  'Bit girlish,' she said. 'Looks fairly professional though, I've seen a lot of home-made tattoos and this rates way above them. You should be glad that they didn't mess it up.'

  'As happy as a pig in shit.'

  She ignored the comment and kept studying his hand and wrist. 'What's even more impressive is that you have very little swelling in your hand where the nail went in. This is a precision hit. Normally someone would just go for the middle of the hand and hit like hell until it went through.'

  'What's normal about nailing someone's hand to a table?'

  She rolled her eyes. 'I know it's not normal, I'm just saying that this looks like a practised incision. Know what I mean?'

  'Hadn't thought about it actually, but I get what you're saying – like these two have done it before.'

  She looked up wide-eyed and dropped his hand on the table.

  He winced. 'Shit!'

  She went to her backpack, pulled out her laptop and fired it up. Her knees jumped up and down and the laptop bounced with them. She chewed her lip as though she were chewing gum while waiting for the computer to boot up.

  Jay caught his breath, distracted by the pain she had inflicted. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' he asked.

  She ignored him and started typing away on the computer. He fell back into the chair and waited. She continued to chew on her lip and tap at the keyboard.

  'That's it!' she said, too loud.

  Jay had started to drift off in the chair and he jolted upright at the sudden outburst.

  'That's it,' she said again, this time quieter. She lifted her head from the screen and looked over to Jay. 'He has – had – the same tattoo. Damn, I must have missed it.'

  'Slow down. Who has the same tattoo?'

  'Had. Lazarau. Right here on his record for physical description. I never noticed.'

  'You know, technically, although he is dead, he still has the tattoo,' he said.

  'What?'

  'You said he had the tattoo and I said ...'

  'Whatever ... semantics. Shit, I should have seen this.' She stared at the screen.

  Jay took a moment and analysed the information. 'So there is your link between Primrose and Lazarau. But why would Lazarau put you onto me at the same time as Primrose was planting this graffiti on my arm? At least we can assume that I was supposed to take Lazarau's place in collecting classified documents.'

  'Yeah, but you're right: why would Lazarau put me onto you? He would have known that it would have led to Primrose. Unless Primrose left Lazarau high and dry after the arrest.'

  'Or left him high and dry before the arrest and that's why he was trying to sell out to someone else,' he said.

  'Either way, I need to speak to Primrose,' she said.

  'We need to speak to that freak,' he corrected.

  'Yes, we. That still leaves the questions of who went through your room; who was here and left that message on your dad's computer, which I'm going to check shortly; and where is your dad?'

  'Logistically, it would have been difficult for Primrose to have been the person who ransacked my room or was here. That doesn't mean he is not responsible though, and maybe even for the shank delivered to Lazarau. If he is involved there has to be someone else, apart from that tart of his, helping him,' he said. He yawned again.

  'Have you had any sleep yet?' she asked.

  'Only if you count the couple of times I was knocked out.'

  'You need to get some rest.'

  'We need to pay Primrose a visit.'

  'We will. I want to be prepared. I need to check your dad's computer and do some research.'

  'Primrose will be at work until at least 5 o'clock this afternoon.' Jay checked his watch. 'That gives us plenty of time. Wake me in two hours.'

  She nodded, already making her way through to the study. 'I assume it's not password protected,' she said.

  'It is. Hang on, I'm coming.'

  Sarah turned. 'Then how did someone leave a message on there?'

  'I'm too tired to think about it at the moment. Let me know if you figure it out – after I wake up.' Jay made his way past her and logged on to the computer. He walked out and went into the spare room without another word.

  ELEVEN

  'Wake up, Jay.'

  'What, what is it?' He rolled onto his side and blinked against the afternoon light. He checked the time. The rose tattoo stared back at him. Wrong wrist. He looked across to the other wrist. Three hours wasted.

  'Get up. You've got a call on your mobile,' Sarah said.

  He moved to the edge of the bed and winced. The soreness in his body felt like the morning after his first amateur boxing fight. He had won quite convincingly, but couldn't move normally for a week afterwards. A dry mouth and headache accompanied the pain in his ribs. 'Who is it?' he asked.

  'Some bloke says h
e's your boss. Wouldn't give his name.' She threw his phone onto the bed and made her way out of the room.

  Jay called after her. 'You always answer other people's phones? And I told you two hours.'

  The effort was obviously wasted, as she didn't respond.

  He reached across for the phone with his good hand. 'Yeah, boss.'

  'Hey, Jay. What's going on?'

  'Just woke.'

  'That right? This compassionate leave better not have anything to do with the young lady who answered the phone.'

  'No, boss. She's family. Just helping out for a bit.' Jay closed his eyes tight, realising his mistake.

  'You don't have any family, apart from your dad.'

  'Well, she's helping out anyway,' Jay said. As soon as he said it, he knew his boss would pick up the shallowness of his reasoning. 'What's up, boss?'

  'If I find out you've been screwing me for this leave you know what will happen. Fortunately for you, I haven't got time for this. Listen, were you down in the interrogation rooms over the weekend?'

  Jay wondered what his boss knew and decided to play it innocent. 'No, boss. Why's that?'

  'Because some pig left a goddamned mess down there, that's why. We haven't had anyone in the bag for a couple of weeks and all the boys here swear they haven't used it. So it comes down to you or Captain Primrose.'

  Jay forgot about the pain and shot up out of bed. He looked down at his tattoo. 'I'd say that you'll have to ask Captain Primrose, boss, because I haven't been down there for a while.'

  'Can't get hold of him at the moment. Just letting you know that I'm mighty pissed off.'

  'Understandable, boss. Did you say that you haven't asked Captain Primrose?'

  'You know I didn't. Can't get hold of him at the moment was what I said.'

  Jay kicked himself for not doing better in hiding his information requirements. 'Why's that? He should be in today.'

  'Well, he's not. Seems he's got some personal things going on as well. His wife called this morning.'