Interview Room 9 Read online

Interview Room 9

  No 1. From the Squad B archives.

  A Short Story by C P Sennett

  © 2013

  ‘Interview Room 9’ is a work of fiction and any resemblance between the characters and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Interview Room 9

  In 2032, crime is common and sentences strict. We are thankful that highly decorated police officers like Inspector Mayer, my commanding officer, are around to keep law and order. I've already dealt with two serial killers in my five years on the force and I have seen some of the worst that humanity has to offer.

  The biotech companies had released their poison on the world and before you knew it everyone had subscribed to a changing world of cybernetics, DNA enhancements and real immersion virtual reality. Laws were hastily passed as doctors and technology companies needed to be licensed to protect the public. Then inevitably came the black market.

  Foreigners are always given a hard time by the force ever since the open door policy that England had endured ended many years ago. However, in recent times it has become a close knit community of islanders again. The suspect in interview room 9 was Scandinavian looking and this was nothing like the random traffic violation it started out as. Inspector Mayer, my partner, had pulled a double shift covering an earlier colleague. He loved the overtime and decided to stay to interrogate our overseas lawbreaker. I’d arrived at work thirty minutes ago and was told they'd brought in a foreigner armed with a small arsenal of weapons in the boot of his car and not the normal kind either.

  The suspect was pulled over for using an old style mobile phone while driving. Apparently, all he did was get out of the vehicle and put his hands behind the back of his head, ready to be taken in, not saying a word.

  Inspector Mayer read him his rights and slapped on the cuffs. He said nothing when asked but when Brandon, Inspector Mayers earlier shift partner, opened the boot he nearly wet himself.

  Three rifles were in the boot and two high calibre pistols were in an open bag. Now, it is down to me and a tired Inspector Mayer to break this guy and find out what he's doing here before he disappears up the chain and into the hands of one of the firearms units.

  Why on earth was he armed to the teeth in Chelmsford?

  I was waiting at my desk, taking in all the e-notes stacked on my terminal. Inspector Mayer passed me and he gave me the nod to follow. With my stunner on my belt, just in case the suspect became overly animated, I followed in behind the coffee carrying Inspector.

  “The station scanners didn’t pick up any cybernetics which is a blessing.” said the Inspector.

  “This should all be routine enough, apart from the guns, my guess was he was here buying or selling them, a low level arms trader most likely.” I replied before adding. “According to the stations live-intel, we are still waiting on a full inventory from the techs downstairs.”

  Mayer nodded. “We need to know exactly what was in the car, if the weapons inside had been fired or linked to other crimes. Also hopefully the techs may get us a clue as to who this joker is when they strip the vehicle.”

  I nodded as I followed Mayer down the corridor and into the dark of interview room 9, its one light illuminating the desk and the suspect. I must admit I was surprised by the look of the man sitting before me. Similar in height to me, around 6 feet 2 inches, he looked athletic under a tight fitting white shirt and hideously expensive suit. If I had to guess his age I would have said late thirties, early forties maybe but in truth he was hard to gauge.

  “Vandenguard suit I see, with a Holstyle watch. Either they are fakes or you’re worth a few quid?” opened Inspector Mayer as he sat down.

  Nothing came back from the lightly tanned, blonde haired suspect.

  “I'm Inspector Mayer but you know that as we met earlier and I guess you also know the drill. Feel like cutting us both some slack and giving me your name? Refusal to do so is an offence, giving me your name means I go easy on you.”

  The man sat, emotionless.

  “Nothing to say then? Well, I'll say it. You've a ton of weapons in your car and no ID on you. Those are both crimes as well and means you’ll do time. Bad time, with nasty people.” Mayers paused for a moment letting his words sink in for dramatic effect.

  Still nothing, the man didn't even look up. He sat handcuffed to his chair, not even twitching in the spotlight.

  Mayer continued “I want to know who you are, so I suggest you start talking. It’s in my power to make you talk, one way, or another.”

  Again the suspect sat still, cool as ice.

  Mayer got up from his chair and flew around the sparse table which only had a glass of water and a straw in it for the suspect to drink from. Leaning down to his level, he whispered something in the man's ear.

  Whatever was said got no response from the suspect.

  Nobody was ever this cool without a lawyer present, especially when Mayer was on to them. He was a heavy set man who could easily put the frighteners on when he needed to.

  Inspector Mayer grabbed both sides of the suspect’s head to make him look up. The man didn't resist which surprised both of us. He simply complied and looked Mayer dead in the eyes.

  “Name?” growled Mayer.

  “11, 10” replied the man in a foreign accent.

  “What does 11, 10 mean. You counting backward to me, this isn't a game. Don’t play smart with me. I'll have you blasted Mr 11, 10 for threatening an officer.” With that Mayer gave me the nod. I took the hint and drew my stunner, thousands of volts of electricity would soon wipe the smile off his face.

  Mayer turned the man's face to see me and my stunner. It was at this point I got my first clear look at him, not a mark on his face and with piercing ice blue eyes. He was well groomed and a remarkably good looking man. He looked more like a Hollywood film star than anyone we’d normally deal with.

  Mayer released his grasp and walked back around to his chair. “Ok, tell me who you are?” he said, sitting down red faced and angry.

  “John.”

  “Ok John... Where are you from?”

  “A small village, outside of Oslo.” said the man with measured, well-practiced speech.

  “Good we're getting somewhere, what village?”

  “I was last in Aneby, in Norway.”

  “Ok, John from Aneby. Why are you driving a rented car under the name Mirko when you tell me your name is John?”

  “Can't spot a fake name Inspector?”

  “One more jibe like that and I'm gonna bust you in the mouth, you hear me Johnny boy?”

  The suspect gave Inspector Mayer a look almost of amusement.

  “My apologies Inspector. Please... Continue.”

  “The guns, why do you have them?”

  “I am here to kill.” he said, as coolly as someone would ask for directions. It made me shiver, a shiver that didn't go unnoticed.

  “Really?” asked Mayer.

  “Yes, I have work here, I used the M-Tek 7.62mm rifle and bipod to get my mark. It was clean, efficient and no pain.”

  Mayer paused, taking it all in. He took in a deep breath before replying “So, you're confessing to murder? You know that carries the death penalty in England now?”

  “I am aware of the law Inspector, yes.” he said with a gentle nod of his head.

  “We are running your prints and we’ll know soon enough who you are, then John from Aneby, I'll deal with you. You see I've met your kind before.”

  The prisoner turned his head as if indicating for Mayer to expand on his statement.

  “Fantasists, I hate your kind.” spat Mayer, venom dripping from every word.

  “Dear Inspector, you will find a few things about me. One, that my prints will come up blank. Two that w
hen you find who I am, you will wish you hadn’t. And lastly, unlike you, I got where I am through ability.”

  This really got Mayer’s back up. Mayer stood up and threw his coffee cup against the wall, the cheap mug smashed leaving a dark stain dripping down the wall. “One of us will be dead soon or at best in jail. The other will be going home safe and sound to enjoy the rest of his life. So John, I'd think twice before you piss me about. Icelandic prick.”

  “I'm Norwegian.”

  Mayer turned around, quickly heading for the exit. “Talk to him and see if you can get any sense out of him Trent.” was all he said and with that he slammed the door shut behind him.

  The Norwegian fixed his gaze on me as I sat down.

  “He can be a little hot headed.” I said testing the water.

  “Indeed.” he replied coldly.

  “I am Officer Trent, his partner.”

  “His understudy.” said the Norwegian.

  “Yes, I guess so.” I replied, trying a sympathetic route. “Look John, confessing to a murder means you’re in trouble. At the moment all we have on you is no ID, possession of illegal firearms and fraudulent vehicle hire. It’s in your interest to cooperate.”

  John nodded, quickly moving his head to flick his fringe from his eyes. “Don’t forget my original traffic violation, Officer Trent.”

  I smiled at his flippancy. “Did you really kill someone? Who?”

  “Jack Moran, an Irish businessman. He works for a technology company called Futures.”

  “So, if you killed this Moran, I guess you’re a contract killer then?”

  The Norwegian smiled “Yes, keep this up and you will make Inspector soon.”

  “For that, Inspector Mayer would need to move on, openings are rare in Chelmsford.”

  “There will be one sooner than you think.” he replied, devoid of emotion.

  “Threatening an officer is another crime, please don’t add to your growing infringements.”

  He smiled widely, showing his perfect white teeth.

  “Who hired you John?” I asked.

  “I cannot say.”

  “Why?”

  “Talking gets you killed in my work.”

  “So, you’re confirming you’re a killer for hire?”

  “I am a professional, yes.”

  “Military trained?”

  “No, private actually.”

  “John, you know this course of action, with no council, is leading you towards the death penalty.”

  He smiled again.

  I stood up. “Look, I need to leave to confer with the Inspector, we'll be back shortly.”

  “You still have an hour to wait Officer?”

  “For what?”

  “My DNA to come back.”

  “What DNA, we haven't taken any.”

  “Inspector Mayer took a few strands of hair when he grabbed me. It was an obvious attempt to get DNA from me as I have frustrated him by not consenting to give blood. I haven’t drunk from the cup in front either so there is no DNA on my straw.”

  I nodded, stunned he was wise to Mayer’s tricks.

  “Do you want a lawyer?” I asked.

  “I won't need one.” he said, “It will take an hour for your system to work out who I am.”

  I nodded, getting the feeling all wasn't as it seemed with this man. If truth be told I was unnerved and I think he knew it.