Bloodless, page 11
part #1 of Serial Investigations Series
We exchange a look. Another body. Shit.
A heavy knock at the door makes us both jump, swivelling round to look in that direction.
“Police!” a loud, brusque voice informs us. “Open up!”
Nineteen - Will
It was all like a bad dream. Or an episode of a bad TV drama.
“Julius Rakktersen?” the policeman in the doorway said.
Ram stood there, nonplussed. “Yes?”
“You’re under arrest for the murders of Hiro Hayashi and James West. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence,” the policeman said, rapidly spinning Ram around and producing a pair of handcuffs to clasp around his wrists.
“What?” he managed.
“What’s going on?” I asked, but they were already leading him away, back down the stairs.
“Sir, are you William Wallace?” a policewoman with a soft Welsh accent asked.
“Yes,” I said. “What, are you arresting me too?”
“No, but we would like to bring you in for questioning. We can do that either on a formal basis, or you can come in voluntarily,” she said. “As the suspect’s housemate, I’m sure you can appreciate that you will be able to help us with our investigation.”
I stared at her for a moment, my mind whirring. “Alright,” I agreed. “I’ll come in.”
It made the most sense. I had no doubt that they could arrest me under conspiracy charges if they wanted to, or for obstruction of justice, under the suspicion that I knew something. More officers swept past us in the doorway, and I watched them begin to sift through all the papers and documents we had on the table. This wasn’t good.
The policewoman beckoned, and I had no choice but to follow her.
They took us in separate cars. I wasn’t under arrest, after all. But it was humiliating. To be dragged out of our own home like criminals. We hadn’t done anything wrong. We were trying to help. Still, I knew what it looked like. Ram finding the second body, and then having that connection to the third. And pressure would be mounting to make an arrest. I guess he was the logical choice.
People were watching out of windows as we drove away. Probably wondering what kind of people had moved in amongst them. I craned my head back and caught a glimpse of our front door, still open. There was an awful sensation at the thought of strangers going through our things, messing them up. I didn’t want them in there. I didn’t want them finding out our deepest secrets and holding things over our heads.
Not just me, but Ram. What would they think when they found the empty bottles of whisky in his room? And there was Alex, who would surely be in a lot more trouble when they realised what materials we had access to. Our one potential friendly contact, and he wasn’t going to be able to do a thing to help us.
I watched the car ahead of us, holding Ram, weaving through traffic towards the police station. I wondered what he was thinking just then. I wondered if he was confident enough to be cracking jokes with the officers, or sitting in silence, figuring out what to do like I was.
They stopped his car first, led him out first. I only caught the barest glimpse of his blond hair as he was bundled out of the car and inside. By the time I was led in by my escort, he was gone.
“Follow me, Mr Wallace,” the investigator said. She was a smaller woman, but had a quiet confidence that suggested she was not afraid of any criminal. She was wearing a light grey suit that was perhaps a little tight in the thighs. I wondered if a recent promotion to her MIT squad had precipitated some weight gain.
I followed her through a long corridor and entered a room with a pine door. It was like being in a school. Quite literally, since the last time I’d set foot inside a station like this had been as a trainee. I sat down at the table when she gestured, and waited.
“Would you like a tea or a coffee, Mr Wallace?” she asked. “Some water, perhaps?”
“I’d like to get to the point,” I said. The sooner we got this over with, the sooner both Ram and I would be going home.
“As you wish,” she said. She glanced down at a white notebook in front of her, and a brown paper folder. “We’ll just wait for my colleague to join us.”
There was not a long pause. A young man, tall and lanky in his suit, entered the room with two polystyrene cups. “One for you, Anna,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, nodding to him. “Okay then. We’re conducting a voluntary interview with Mr William Wallace, who has agreed to answer our questions regarding the arrest of his housemate, Mr Julius Rakktersen. Present are myself, Detective Anna Andrews, and Detective Noel Beat.”
“Mr Wallace, can you start by telling us your relationship with Julius?” Noel asked. He had a low voice, and a broad London accent that almost verged on the cartoon Cockney. His suit had very fine, dark grey pinstripes, almost indiscernible against the black of the material. I was noticing too much. I tried to shake myself out of it.
“We’re friends,” I said, floundering at the idea of distilling our whole complicated history into one box. “We live together. And work together, too. We met in training.”
“Police training, with the Met?” Anna said, sipping at her coffee and lifting up a sheet of paper from the pile in front of her. They had done their homework.
“Yes,” I said. “We were going to join a Homicide and Serious Crime unit.”
“Then you’ll be familiar with our methods,” she said, giving me a thin-lipped smile. “And I’m sure you’ll appreciate also that the best way forward is to cooperate as much as possible.”
“Of course,” I said. “Ram is innocent, so I’ll tell you whatever you need to know in order to clear him.”
“Ram?” Noel asked, with a raised eyebrow.
“Sorry. Julius. Nickname,” I said.
“We’re interested in the truth, Mr Wallace. If you can stick to that, rather than trying to convince us of anything, that would be very helpful.” Anna gave me a stern look. “Have there been any changes in Julius’ behaviour over the last few months?”
“Well, yes, many. We just moved back to London from the US. Everything has changed for us.”
“And why did you leave the US?”
I hesitated. It was a good job we’d already decided on a line for this. “We decided we wanted to come back to our roots. We had been training with the FBI, but didn’t feel at home there. We both have our families in this country, as well as our old connections. It didn’t seem right to stay out there.”
“Did Julius see that as a failure?” Anna asked.
I blinked. She was a serpent, this one. Hiding under that soft tone. “I… it was a disappointment, in some ways. But we were equally as excited to come back and start a new chapter.”
Anna exchanged a glance with Noel. “Would you say that Julius has been angry or upset about not finishing his training? First with the Met, and then with the FBI?”
I blinked again. I could see the picture they were trying to build. At the same time, I could hardly tell them he had been fine. For one thing, it would have been too obvious a lie. “He was upset, yes. I was, too. But we had each other for support.”
“Are yourself and Julius in a relationship, William?” Noel asked, cutting in abruptly. It made my head almost spin, looking from one to the other of them.
“No, we’re just friends.”
“But you did travel to America together, yes? And you’ve been living together since your time here at the Met?” Anna pressed.
I swallowed. Could I have been that obvious? “We’re best friends. That’s all. Julius is more interested in having flings. Even if I wasn’t straight, we wouldn’t be in a relationship.”
“Does Julius have a lot of sexual partners, then?” Anna asked.
I could see how they’d led me there. Of course they had. They wanted to match Ram to their suspect profile. Much the same as ours, no doubt – a single homosexual male who targeted one-night stands. “I wouldn’t exactly know,” I said. “We don’t discuss it.”
“Come on,” Noel said cajolingly, as if we were sharing secrets together. “He’s your best friend. He doesn’t tell you about his conquests?”
I tightened my jaw. “I don’t care to hear about them. I have other things to occupy my time.”
“Do those things keep you out of the house often, William? Or are you with him most of the time, would you say?”
I thought. “I’m with him a lot. We both stay home for most of the day.”
“And in the evenings?”
“He sometimes goes out.”
“Sometimes? Or often?”
“Often,” I conceded, swallowing hard. My throat was dry. I began to wish I had asked for that water.
“And when he comes home from these evenings out, what kind of mood is he in?” Anna asked.
“A… good mood, I guess,” I said, scrabbling frantically in my memories. “He usually has a good time.”
“And what about when he doesn’t?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t always see him. I might be asleep.”
“Why were you investigating the recent murders in Highgate Wood?” Noel cut in.
They liked trying to disorientate me. I could see that, but it didn’t make it any easier to switch gears. “I – we’re private detectives.”
“Yes, we found your website,” Anna said, reading from the file in front of her with a heavy dose of derision. “Serial Investigations London. Get much work, do you?”
“Well,” I hesitated. “Not really. Just a small break-in case recently.” Something instinctively told me not to mention the private commission from the enigmatic Coil. I don’t know what it was, but it felt like it would be wrong to say it out loud.
“So you weren’t on commission when your partner discovered the second body?”
I swallowed. Something in the way Noel said ‘discovered’ made me try to take stock. What kind of trap were they laying me? What could I say that would get Ram in trouble? “We were asked to take a look at some of the case files by a friend from the force, as you already discovered.”
Anna and Noel’s eyes flickered, sharing a glance between them. Perhaps I at last had them on the back foot instead of the other way around. It couldn’t have been comfortable to be reminded that it was one of their own colleagues who got them into this mess.
“You were in training with Detective Heath, is that not correct?” Anna asked, her tone subtly different.
“Yes. We all met at that time. I believe he got in contact with Ra- Julius after the case broke on the news,” I said, feeling more confident now. This was the key piece of evidence that would have Ram back at home before long.
“So you allege that Detective Heath was the one who came forward with the case, and it was not Julius who approached him?”
“That’s right,” I said with satisfaction.
The door opened, and the face of a young plain-clothes detective poked into the room as he leaned around it. Anna and Noel turned, and Noel got up without a word to join him at the door. They muttered together in quiet tones before Noel returned, giving Anna a meaningful look.
“You allege that yourself and Mr Rakktersen are not involved in the case except through your connection to Detective Heath, and the fact that Mr Rakktersen had sexual relations with one of the victims,” Noel said, looking down at a piece of paper as if to be sure he had his facts right. Then he looked up and fixed me with an even stare. “Is that right?”
“Yes, I’ve explained that already,” I said. “We’re just trying to help out with the case, that’s all.”
“Then can you explain how it is that Julius’ DNA has been discovered on personal property belonging to not one, but two of the victims?”
My blood ran cold. I didn’t know how to answer that. The first one, Hiro, I knew about, but another…? How was he going to explain this? More to the point, how could I?
I was saved from answering by their interruption. It was a blessing. I don’t think I would have thought of something to say, no matter how long they sat there watching me.
“If something comes to mind, be sure to get in touch with us,” Anna said, reaching abruptly for the files on the table and tucking them under her arm. There was a business-like air to her, as if she was done with me and onto the next matter.
“Thank you for your time, Mr Wallace,” Noel said. “You’re free to go. We may be back in touch if we have some more questions in the future.”
I should have been relieved to be dismissed, but instead my mouth felt dry. I reached into my pocket for a piece of gum, unwrapping it as I stood.
“And Julius?” I asked.
“He’s still being held for questioning. I’d advise you to wait at home. We may require him for a good few more hours.”
20 – Ram
I’m in big trouble, and I know it.
I know it from the way the police are looking at me – or how they aren’t looking at me. I know it from the way I was unceremoniously dumped into an interview room and left there.
They left me for a long time. It felt like fifteen, twenty minutes. It’s a long time to be sitting, doing nothing, alone, waiting. It’s a long time for them to leave a murder suspect. I get the feeling that they might be trying to psyche me out. Maybe they figure that me knowing the usual procedures puts them at a disadvantage, so they want to make me sweat.
Even knowing that, I have to admit it’s working. I haven’t done anything wrong. I know that. But the fact that they didn’t arrest me right away when they knew I was connected to Hiro makes me nervous. It means that they were trying to build a case – and that now, maybe, they think they have one.
But how can that be, when I’m innocent?
I sit tapping my foot on the floor, at first without purpose and then trying to keep it under control. I tap the beat of a song I enjoy listening to. I try to force myself into some kind of zen, contemplative state where all I’m thinking about is that beat. Even so, my heart is racing in my chest and my palms are sweaty.
I’m only halfway back to calm before they finally come in. A shorter blonde woman, wearing a grey suit that doesn’t quite close properly over her chest. She should have had the jacket custom fitted. A tall man, younger and slimmer, follows her. He’s not too bad on the eyes. His skin is the colour of chocolate. His hair is cropped close to his scalp, the kind of light fuzz that makes you think about what it would feel like to run your hand through it.
“Julius Rakktersen,” the woman begins, sitting down opposite me. Neither of them have looked at me yet, not properly. They’re focused on two brown paper folders that they brought in with them. “We’d like you to answer a few questions about the spate of recent murders you have been involved in. For the tape, present are myself, Detective Anna Andrews, and Detective Noel Beat. They tell me that you’ve waived your right to legal counsel?”
Part of me wants to laugh at the idea of a policeman being called Detective Beat. It’s like he was bred for the job. I guess it’s an indicator of how seriously I’m taking this that I don’t.-
“For now,” I say, shifting in my seat. “I’m happy to cooperate.” I don’t want to incriminate myself, but I know what to say and what not to say. The moment things start to get hairy, I’ll be claiming my phone call and getting someone by my side. But I hope that if I stay cool and answer their questions, there won’t be any need for it.
“We’d like to start with a few questions about Hiro Hayashi.”
“I’ve already told you everything I know,” I say, but the protest is half-hearted. I know they’re going to ask again anyway.
“You told us previously that you were with Hiro on the evening two days before his body was found,” Anna says, reading from her report.
“That’s correct. I left his flat in the morning and went home.”
“Our coroner’s report suggests that he died the next day. We’ve been unable to track down any sightings from his friends, family, or colleagues. You could almost say, Mr Rakktersen, that you were the last person to see him alive,” Noel says in an even, unhurried tone.
“That’s not the case,” I say confidently. “The killer was the last person to see him alive. And I’m not him.”
“You have to understand our confusion, Mr Rakktersen,” Anna says, her soft Welsh tones making her sound deceptively sympathetic. I know she isn’t. “You tell us that you left him that morning and never saw him again. But then where did he go? We know that he left you messages through a dating app.”
I swallow. It’s true. Hiro did try to message me. He was keen to go for round two. But I have a rule – I never go back twice. I ignored him. “I didn’t respond to the messages,” I say.
“No. But since he asked if you were going to meet him in the same bar as last time, perhaps you just went there and found him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say, sighing. “You’ll have gone through the CCTV already. You know that neither of us were there that night.”
“Indeed,” Anna concedes. “But it’s not out of the realm of possibility that you communicated in another way and met up somewhere else. We know that Mr Hayashi left his flat around an hour after messaging you.”
I shake my head. “If he did, he wasn’t coming to meet me. I wasn’t interested in meeting him again. It was a one-night thing. That’s all.”
“But what about the latest victim?” Noel asks, switching gears so fast I’m momentarily caught out.
“… What about them?” I ask. “I haven’t seen any of the details yet.”
“But of course, you know who it was,” Noel replies.
I frown. Where is this coming from? “The identity wasn’t released on the news,” I say. “We only just heard about there even being a fourth body when you came to arrest me.”
Noel reaches into his folder and pulls out a printed colour photograph, turns it around, and slides it across the table towards me. I look down. My heart almost stops.
Yes, I do know who this man was. Because, even though his skin is grey and his eyes are white, and even though this image cannot at all compare to how he looked when he was alive, I recognise him. I remember the night we spent together.
