Written In Blood

Chapter Thirty-Two

Isobel could only stare when her client was escorted into the interview room and she saw the state of him. She had gotten the impression that something wasn't right when she spoke to him on the phone, but she hadn't expected what she was seeing.

"Jesus!" she said finally. "What the hell happened to you? You look as though you've gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson."

"I wish," Zack said through gritted teeth. "At least then I'd feel better about being in this kind of shape." Limping around the table, he settled onto the seat next to his solicitor. "Sergeant Mitchell and his constables were a little overzealous when they came to arrest me."

"A little overzealous." Isobel couldn't keep the incredulity she was feeling from her voice. "This is more than just someone being a little overzealous," she said, "and you know it. You were a detective; you know how bad this is. It's assault, Zack, they assaulted you, and if the way you're moving is anything to go by, quite a bad one. Look at you, they've broken your nose, blacked both your eyes – you can barely see; you've got a split lip, a cut on your forehead and your cheek, and that's just what I can see. And your arm's bleeding, you must have pulled at least one of your stitches.

"This is disgraceful. We're going to sue them over this, they're not getting away with it."

Zack shook his head, slowly to try and minimise the pain the movement caused. "I don't want to do that," he said. "Suing will just cause more hassle, and I've had enough of that the last couple of days. I just want to put all of this behind me as quickly as possible, so I can move on."

"And just how do you expect to manage that?" Isobel wanted to know. "This sergeant has made it pretty clear he thinks you're guilty of the murders he's investigating – if you can call what he's doing investigating – and whatever else has happened; which is what? You didn't say when you called, just that you'd been arrested again."

"I didn't tell you because I don't know myself," Zack told her. "All I got was a demand to know where a girl was; I don't have a clue what girl they were talking about, let alone what I'm supposed to have done with her."

Isobel's sense of outrage over the treatment of her friend increased. "Are you trying to tell me that not only were you assaulted, they didn't tell you why you were being arrested?"

"Yes, but let's not make a fuss about it, all I want is to get this interview done, get home, and take as many painkillers as possible."

"You can't just let this slide, Zack; that sergeant is a menace, and given how unwilling he is to even consider the possibility that someone else is responsible for the murders, he's never going to find the real killer until he's forced to back off from you," Isobel said. She couldn't understand why he wasn't more interested in punishing the prejudiced sergeant, he was not normally so passive. "Not only that, but you need to go to the hospital and get checked out; who knows how bad your injuries are."

The two of them argued back and forth about what they were going to do for several minutes, before finally coming to an agreement, at which point Isobel called for the sergeant.

"Are you ready to get this interview started?" Mitchell asked the moment he entered the interview room.

"If I had my way, no," Isobel said bluntly, seeing no reason to sugar-coat her words. "My client wishes to get the interview over and done with, however. Before we start, though, I wish to make it clear how unhappy I am with the treatment he has received at the hands of you and your officers; it is nothing less than appalling, and I can assure you I will be registering a complaint at the highest level possible – not only was my client physically assaulted during your ham-fisted arrest of him, he was prevented from making the phone call he is legally permitted for over an hour, he has not been told why he was arrested, and, worst of all, he has not been seen by a doctor. He could be suffering from internal injuries for all we know."