Story | Police | criminal
Police interrogation
a flash fiction
“That mother and daughter you hit two nights back,” Deputy Conner said hanging his words in the stale air. “Jack, they’re dead,” He gave the statement a cold tone, staining it with his disgust for the drunk. “We know you’re the chicken who fled the scene. So, I’ll ask you this only once. Where’s your car?” The demand ricocheted across the room like a gunshot.
Jack didn’t flinch, or react. In the face of Connor’s bravado, he just took another drag of his cigarette. He had been in enough police interrogations to know them like the back of his hand, so he casually watched the smoky wisps rise between his fingers. The only thing burning out faster in the room was the Deputy’s patience. They had pushed for hours, but by 5 pm it was either charge him or let him walk. And from how things were going, one looked more likely than the other.
“You know,” Conner leaned in, “witnesses have come forward, all pointing fingers at you. They saw your Blue Pontiac that night. If this goes to trial you’re looking at five years, minimum.”
But Jack turned from the threat, flicking the cigarette butt into an ashtray.
“If you cooperate, I’ll personally see they go easy on you.”
“You’re full of shit,” Jack cut through the words like a surgeon, sat back in a way the Deputy didn’t like. “Anyone could’ve been driving that night.” Then he stared through Connor as if the man never existed. “Who were they?”
“What?” Connor jerked, losing control of the interrogation.
“Those witnesses. The ones who saw me. Who were they?”
“We can’t tell you that.”
Jack chuckled, “Because there were none. I knew it, you’re just blowing smoke, aren’t you?” He scoffed at Conner. “First-class detective work.”
Taking a deep breathe Connor sighed, “Look, Jack, go ahead and call our bluff. But if you’re innocent, prove it. Show us your car, then we’ll put this whole mess behind us.”
For a moment, Jack hesitated. It was small- but Connor caught it.
And that was enough.
