AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Stepping further into the office, I slam my fists onto the desk. When the captain leans back, he shoots me a warning glare. Turning to see Bernardi’s lawyer shooting me a death glare, I look between both men, straightening my back.
“What happened?”
“You tell me, he was killed in custody.” Elijah shrugs.
My eyes narrow on his, usually he comes in barking orders, demanding to speak with the highest authority and throwing his weight around. But he doesn't seem too fazed for someone who’s just lost a client.
Turning back to the captain, I shoot him a questioning look.
“Someone in custody killed him.” He lifts a file from the drawer and slides it across the desk.
Pulling it open my eyes land on some scrawny kid. His mug shot shows his hollow cheekbones and eyes. The scabs on his skin confirm what I already know before reading his sheet.
“This kids a fucking junkie.” I say, throwing it back onto the desk. “What happened?”
“They were both in holding, a fight broke out, and he slit Harry’s throat.”
“How the fuck did he get a weapon? Everything should have been taken off him?” The frustration in my voice evident from my wide eyes and trembling hands.
Elijah rises from his seat; the blank expression remains on his face. He refuses to look my way. Instead, he turns toward the captain.
“I expect a full investigation. That junkie shouldn’t have been able to smuggle a weapon into the precinct and it not be found.” He speaks calmly before stepping away from the office, shooting one final look at me before disappearing altogether.
His words leave an uneasy feeling in the room. The captain shakes his head.
“He’s waiting in the interview room. See what you can find out.”
Nodding, I leave the room. Taking a deep breath, the chaos seems to have subsided slightly, but glancing around, everyone looks on edge. Whoever didn’t process this kid properly, won’t skate on this colossal fuck up.
Wasting no time, I push open the interview room door with Detective Callaghan on my heels. A keen new detective who just got his gold shield, feeling him bump into me from behind, I shoot him a warning glare to tone down the eager puppy act.
Pulling out the chair, I take a seat. Flipping open the file, I look between this kid and his sheet, studying the list as long as my arm. I immediately close the file and rest my arms on the desk.
“Brent Mason, twenty-six years old, parents live on the Upper East Side. You’ve been arrested for possession of drugs, selling, buying, hell, even petty theft. Yet you’ve never killed anyone until now.”
I speak calmly and stare into his eyes, watching him twitch and pick at his face. His eyes flicker to mine, but he can barely hold my gaze for more than a few seconds. The sweat forming at his brow and the shakes leads me to believe he hasn’t had a fix for a while.
“So what made you do it? As far as I know, you’ve never met Harry until today.”
Brent keeps looking away, his eyes momentarily dart between Detective Callaghan and me, but he chooses to chew on his fingernails instead.
“You’re looking at twenty-five years for murder, Brent. If you tell us why, we can speak with the D.A. Did Harry threaten you at all?” Callaghan interjects.
Brent's eyes widen for a second, the fear threatening to show at the thought of being locked away. No matter how Callaghan tries to spin this, he’s going to prison for a long time. He murdered someone. There were witnesses, and right now, no apparent motive.
“I can’t go to prison!” Brent leaps to his feet, the chair clattering on the floor. Backing into the corner, he begins to rant incoherently. “I’m not going! They said I wouldn’t!”
My eyes narrow on him, rising from my chair. I keep my distance as Brent begins to sob, cowering in the corner. I slowly step closer. Dropping to one knee, I lean in.
“Who said you wouldn’t go to prison, Brent?”
“The man! The man who gave me the money!” He sobs.
“What money? Where is it?”
“I needed the money. They said they wouldn’t give me anymore.”
“Who wouldn’t give you any more?”
