5
The station was situated on Main Street, the epicentre of Gosney. He parked his car across the road from the large precinct and walked in. The front desk was quiet and a young woman with blonde long hair was at the desk. She smiled at the detective as he approached her.
“Good evening, Detective,” she greeted him. “You’re out a bit late.”
He smiled to her. She was Constable Susan Harrison, a competent officer with a bright future ahead of her. Campbell had taken an interest in her and took the time to socialize with the young woman on the few occasions that he could.
“Good evening, Constable, and yes it is quite late, or early, considering your definition. A case broke tonight and you sometimes have to do what you have to do.”
“When you’re the boss, I suppose that’s true,” she replied.
“A man was brought in not that long ago. Where was he taken?”
“The gunshot victim?” she asked. “He was taken to Holding Cell 13. He needs to be taken to hospital. Who shot him?”
“That would be me,” he replied with a smile and headed to the holding cells.
The holding cells were on the ground floor behind the reception desk. You had to go through a door with a security pad. Only certain officers had clearance to enter the holding cells. McGill easily had clearance and punched in his number and stepped through. There were cages lining each side of the walkway and three police officers stood guard. Each of these guards held a card that would open any one of the cages. In the old days the cages were opened by keys, but about five years ago that had changed when the whole precinct went through an overhaul in systems. The same had happened in East Gosney and North Gosney at the other police precincts.
One of the guards nodded to Campbell. He was a man called Tom Smith, an old hand in the holding cells, in his late fifties by now, but he knew his job well. “Chief Inspector.”
Campbell nodded. “One of my boys brought in a dude not too long ago, Cell 13.”
Tom smiled. “Yeah, he looks like your handy work, sir. Get a bit rough on him?”
Most of the uniforms knew better than to get lippy with the detectives and the brass, and if anyone else had said those words to the D.C.I., he would’ve had their ass by the bollocks, but Tom was old school. Campbell had known Tom since he had been a wet-behind-the-ears rookie and respected his wisdom and friendship.
“He’s a serial killer responsible for the deaths of at least five people, possibly more,” Campbell explained. “He also tried to escape arrest.”
Tom chuckled. “You’d think he’d know better than to try to slip away from a cop like you.”
“There aren’t cops like me. I’m unique.”
Tom nodded and walked over to Cell 13. “Hey there! You got a visitor!”
Campbell followed and saw the tall man with the brown hair and glasses sitting on a wooden bench. “Hello again.”
The lightning man raised his head and glared at the Chief Inspector.
“You know,” Tom said, “I don’t think he likes you very much.”
“They never do,” Campbell said and motioned for Tom to open up the cell, which he did. Campbell walked inside and pulled the man to his feet.
“Careful, I’ve been shot,” protested the lightning man.
“Good to know,” Campbell said. “Out the door. We have a discussion to have.”
He marched the man out of the holding cells and to the elevator to the left of the door. They got in the elevator and went up to the third level. The doors opened into a hallway. He marched the man down the hallway to a door marked "INTERROGATION ROOM 3". He knocked on the door before opening it and leading the lightning man inside.
The room was bare apart from a small desk and two chairs opposite each other. Campbell gestured to the lightning man to take one of the seats, the one on the other side of the table, facing the door.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Campbell said. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room and locked the door. Outside, he walked to a set of double doors just down the hallway marked "HOMICIDE DEPT." He pushed them open onto a floor of cubicles, all with desks, chairs and filing cabinets. At the far end was an office marked "DET. CHIEF INSPECTOR MCGILL - HEAD OF HOMICIDE" and walked into his office. The interior was homely with a desk and a laptop sitting on top of it, a green computer chair and two wooden chairs opposite. Three big filing cabinets were situated against the wall to the left of the desk and along that same wall was a brown couch and a coffee table. The wall behind the desk wasn’t a wall at all, but a window with blinds that overlooked the street. He walked to his desk and searched for the file they had on the lightning man.
“Hey, boss."
“Told you to stop calling me that,” Campbell said as he picked up the manila folder that was the case file on the lightning man.
Allen shrugged. “Well, you are the boss.”
“Didn’t I tell you to go home?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“Making a bad habit of disobeying orders.”
“Kinda like how you haven’t sent this guy to a hospital. If he dies on us at the station, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”
“He’s not going to die,” Campbell said as he walked past him out of the office. “I assume that you want to take part in this interrogation?”
“That’s the plan, unless you’re going to send him to the hospital?”
“Not until he gives me the answers that I require. Then he can go and get those love bites fixed.”
“I should tell the Super,” Allen said.
“But you won’t. So, are you coming or not? I assume the reason you’re here is to stop me from beating his candy ass around the walls?” Campbell called out as he left the homicide floor. Allen followed him out while the few detectives working here at night looked at them with interest.
“Yeah, I’m coming. Wish you would play by the rules more, Campbell. You are supposed to be the boss now,” Allen grumbled.
“He isn’t dead, and if he plays the game right, there won’t be any problems.” Campbell said as he led his 2.I.C to the interrogation room.
They walked into the room and Campbell smiled at the lightning man. “Alright, shall we begin? I’m Detective Chief Inspector Campbell McGill and this is my second-in-charge, Detective Inspector Allen King.”
Allen nodded to the lightning man as Campbell placed the folder onto the desk and took a seat. Allen leaned on the wall to the left, ready for whatever his boss had planned. With Campbell, anything was possible.
“You’re under arrest for the murder of?”
“Seven people, Sir,” Allen piped up.
“Right. Seven people. The murder of seven people when you attacked that convenience store on Milon Street,” Campbell continued. “We are also convinced that you’re responsible for the deaths of two more people and the injuries of a further five.”
“That’s an interesting story, Mr. Detective, but how does that involve me?”
“Don’t play coy, son,” Campbell said as he leaned forward. “We know what happened tonight and you tried to kill me on at least three occasions. The result of which are those gunshot wounds to your leg and shoulder, including holding a woman hostage, or did you forget that?”
The lightning man sighed and stared at the desk.
“We have enough evidence already to bring this to trial,” Allen said. “Withholding information at this point is irrelevant.”
The lightning man laughed. “What evidence have you got?” He pointed at Campbell. “This guy’s testimony? He shot me and refused to take me to hospital!”
“Scum like you don’t deserve treatment!” Campbell shouted back. “You killed seven people tonight, you asshole!”
“They had it coming!” the lightning man shouted back and then stopped himself, wide-eyed.
Campbell leaned back in his chair. “That’s quite interesting.”
The lightning man sullenly looked down at his hands.
“The gig is up,” Campbell said quietly. “Why don’t you tell me the whole story and then we’ll see if we can sort out those wounds that must really be causing you some irritation.”
The lightning man glared into the chief inspector’s smirking face. “You think you’ve got all this figured out, don’t you?”
Campbell and Allen said nothing.
“Well, you don’t know nothing,” he spat out. “You’re just a couple of dumb hick cops. I had you going round in circles for weeks, you knew only what I wanted you to know!”
“Until tonight,” Campbell said quietly.
“You got lucky.”
“I’ll give you that,” Campbell replied. “I was off duty and preparing to go home when your little theatre of destruction raised the curtains on the evening’s festivities.”
“Yeah, you got lucky,” the lightning man said more to himself. He looked up to McGill. “I’ll give you this though. You’re one persistent asshole.”
Campbell laughed. “Yes, I’ll give you that as well and there were times tonight when you got close to pulling this off, but you forgot one thing.”
“And what was that?”
“I’m Campbell McGill, son.”
The lightning man sighed. “What do you want? I’m tired and sore and just want to sleep.”
“Soon, but I need a confession.” Campbell opened his file and pulled out the first of many photographs. “I need to get an idea of what you did, and if I can, I’d like to learn why.”
“That may take a while.”
Campbell smiled. “I don’t start work for another eight hours and I’m all ears.” He pushed the photo forward and the lightning man began to talk.
“Good evening, Detective,” she greeted him. “You’re out a bit late.”
He smiled to her. She was Constable Susan Harrison, a competent officer with a bright future ahead of her. Campbell had taken an interest in her and took the time to socialize with the young woman on the few occasions that he could.
“Good evening, Constable, and yes it is quite late, or early, considering your definition. A case broke tonight and you sometimes have to do what you have to do.”
“When you’re the boss, I suppose that’s true,” she replied.
“A man was brought in not that long ago. Where was he taken?”
“The gunshot victim?” she asked. “He was taken to Holding Cell 13. He needs to be taken to hospital. Who shot him?”
“That would be me,” he replied with a smile and headed to the holding cells.
The holding cells were on the ground floor behind the reception desk. You had to go through a door with a security pad. Only certain officers had clearance to enter the holding cells. McGill easily had clearance and punched in his number and stepped through. There were cages lining each side of the walkway and three police officers stood guard. Each of these guards held a card that would open any one of the cages. In the old days the cages were opened by keys, but about five years ago that had changed when the whole precinct went through an overhaul in systems. The same had happened in East Gosney and North Gosney at the other police precincts.
One of the guards nodded to Campbell. He was a man called Tom Smith, an old hand in the holding cells, in his late fifties by now, but he knew his job well. “Chief Inspector.”
Campbell nodded. “One of my boys brought in a dude not too long ago, Cell 13.”
Tom smiled. “Yeah, he looks like your handy work, sir. Get a bit rough on him?”
Most of the uniforms knew better than to get lippy with the detectives and the brass, and if anyone else had said those words to the D.C.I., he would’ve had their ass by the bollocks, but Tom was old school. Campbell had known Tom since he had been a wet-behind-the-ears rookie and respected his wisdom and friendship.
“He’s a serial killer responsible for the deaths of at least five people, possibly more,” Campbell explained. “He also tried to escape arrest.”
Tom chuckled. “You’d think he’d know better than to try to slip away from a cop like you.”
“There aren’t cops like me. I’m unique.”
Tom nodded and walked over to Cell 13. “Hey there! You got a visitor!”
Campbell followed and saw the tall man with the brown hair and glasses sitting on a wooden bench. “Hello again.”
The lightning man raised his head and glared at the Chief Inspector.
“You know,” Tom said, “I don’t think he likes you very much.”
“They never do,” Campbell said and motioned for Tom to open up the cell, which he did. Campbell walked inside and pulled the man to his feet.
“Careful, I’ve been shot,” protested the lightning man.
“Good to know,” Campbell said. “Out the door. We have a discussion to have.”
He marched the man out of the holding cells and to the elevator to the left of the door. They got in the elevator and went up to the third level. The doors opened into a hallway. He marched the man down the hallway to a door marked "INTERROGATION ROOM 3". He knocked on the door before opening it and leading the lightning man inside.
The room was bare apart from a small desk and two chairs opposite each other. Campbell gestured to the lightning man to take one of the seats, the one on the other side of the table, facing the door.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Campbell said. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room and locked the door. Outside, he walked to a set of double doors just down the hallway marked "HOMICIDE DEPT." He pushed them open onto a floor of cubicles, all with desks, chairs and filing cabinets. At the far end was an office marked "DET. CHIEF INSPECTOR MCGILL - HEAD OF HOMICIDE" and walked into his office. The interior was homely with a desk and a laptop sitting on top of it, a green computer chair and two wooden chairs opposite. Three big filing cabinets were situated against the wall to the left of the desk and along that same wall was a brown couch and a coffee table. The wall behind the desk wasn’t a wall at all, but a window with blinds that overlooked the street. He walked to his desk and searched for the file they had on the lightning man.
“Hey, boss."
“Told you to stop calling me that,” Campbell said as he picked up the manila folder that was the case file on the lightning man.
Allen shrugged. “Well, you are the boss.”
“Didn’t I tell you to go home?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“Making a bad habit of disobeying orders.”
“Kinda like how you haven’t sent this guy to a hospital. If he dies on us at the station, you’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”
“He’s not going to die,” Campbell said as he walked past him out of the office. “I assume that you want to take part in this interrogation?”
“That’s the plan, unless you’re going to send him to the hospital?”
“Not until he gives me the answers that I require. Then he can go and get those love bites fixed.”
“I should tell the Super,” Allen said.
“But you won’t. So, are you coming or not? I assume the reason you’re here is to stop me from beating his candy ass around the walls?” Campbell called out as he left the homicide floor. Allen followed him out while the few detectives working here at night looked at them with interest.
“Yeah, I’m coming. Wish you would play by the rules more, Campbell. You are supposed to be the boss now,” Allen grumbled.
“He isn’t dead, and if he plays the game right, there won’t be any problems.” Campbell said as he led his 2.I.C to the interrogation room.
They walked into the room and Campbell smiled at the lightning man. “Alright, shall we begin? I’m Detective Chief Inspector Campbell McGill and this is my second-in-charge, Detective Inspector Allen King.”
Allen nodded to the lightning man as Campbell placed the folder onto the desk and took a seat. Allen leaned on the wall to the left, ready for whatever his boss had planned. With Campbell, anything was possible.
“You’re under arrest for the murder of?”
“Seven people, Sir,” Allen piped up.
“Right. Seven people. The murder of seven people when you attacked that convenience store on Milon Street,” Campbell continued. “We are also convinced that you’re responsible for the deaths of two more people and the injuries of a further five.”
“That’s an interesting story, Mr. Detective, but how does that involve me?”
“Don’t play coy, son,” Campbell said as he leaned forward. “We know what happened tonight and you tried to kill me on at least three occasions. The result of which are those gunshot wounds to your leg and shoulder, including holding a woman hostage, or did you forget that?”
The lightning man sighed and stared at the desk.
“We have enough evidence already to bring this to trial,” Allen said. “Withholding information at this point is irrelevant.”
The lightning man laughed. “What evidence have you got?” He pointed at Campbell. “This guy’s testimony? He shot me and refused to take me to hospital!”
“Scum like you don’t deserve treatment!” Campbell shouted back. “You killed seven people tonight, you asshole!”
“They had it coming!” the lightning man shouted back and then stopped himself, wide-eyed.
Campbell leaned back in his chair. “That’s quite interesting.”
The lightning man sullenly looked down at his hands.
“The gig is up,” Campbell said quietly. “Why don’t you tell me the whole story and then we’ll see if we can sort out those wounds that must really be causing you some irritation.”
The lightning man glared into the chief inspector’s smirking face. “You think you’ve got all this figured out, don’t you?”
Campbell and Allen said nothing.
“Well, you don’t know nothing,” he spat out. “You’re just a couple of dumb hick cops. I had you going round in circles for weeks, you knew only what I wanted you to know!”
“Until tonight,” Campbell said quietly.
“You got lucky.”
“I’ll give you that,” Campbell replied. “I was off duty and preparing to go home when your little theatre of destruction raised the curtains on the evening’s festivities.”
“Yeah, you got lucky,” the lightning man said more to himself. He looked up to McGill. “I’ll give you this though. You’re one persistent asshole.”
Campbell laughed. “Yes, I’ll give you that as well and there were times tonight when you got close to pulling this off, but you forgot one thing.”
“And what was that?”
“I’m Campbell McGill, son.”
The lightning man sighed. “What do you want? I’m tired and sore and just want to sleep.”
“Soon, but I need a confession.” Campbell opened his file and pulled out the first of many photographs. “I need to get an idea of what you did, and if I can, I’d like to learn why.”
“That may take a while.”
Campbell smiled. “I don’t start work for another eight hours and I’m all ears.” He pushed the photo forward and the lightning man began to talk.
