Silas Nash Book 1: Hush Hush Honeysuckle: Chapter 19
By Sooz006
- 910 reads
Max was as nervous as hell, and the man attaching all kinds of wires to him didn’t help. He wondered if being nervous would make him fail when he should pass. And then it led him to worry about doubting himself. Maybe that could also cause a failure.
‘My name is Derek Tipp. Can you confirm that you are here to undertake a polygraph test of your own free will?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘And nobody has coerced you or forced you to take it?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘We will begin in a moment. Are you sure you want to go ahead?’
‘Do I get a best of three?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Sorry, I’m nervous. Will that affect the outcome?’
‘All that is taken into consideration as it reads your body’s responses. Do you want to go ahead with this polygraph test, Mr Jones?’
‘Yes, please.’
Max felt his hands sweating and his heart beating to the rhythm of In the Jailhouse Now.
‘Can you tell us your name, please?’
‘Maxwell Jones.’ He heard Tipp breathing and the mouse clicking as the laptop recorded his results. He hoped Maxwell Jones was still his name and that wasn’t showing as a lie.
‘Now, can you give us a false name?’
‘Mickey Mouse. Hardly original, but there you go.’
‘Just answer the questions, please, no embellishments.’
‘What is your age?’
‘Twenty-eight.’
‘And a false age?’
‘A hundred and fifty-three.’
‘Did you murder William Armstrong?’
‘No, I did not.’
‘Did you have anything to do with the murder or disposal of Mr Armstrong?’
‘No.’
‘Were you present at either the murder or disposal of Mr Armstrong?'
‘No.’
‘Do you know anything about the murder or disposal of Mr Armstrong?’
‘No.’
Derek Tipp went through every murder and asked the same questions. Max gave the same answers to each of them. He was aware of his results coming up on the laptop screen and heard their progression with the click of the mouse. Even he could tell that he had a greater emotional response to both Henry and Paige.
‘How am I doing?’
‘I can’t discuss the test results with you, Mr Jones. Please just answer the questions, and if you interrupt the flow of the test, we will have to mark it as null and void.’
By the time the polygraph was finished, he felt sick with worry. He wished he hadn’t said he’d do it. He didn’t have to. If this was another nail in his coffin, he’d done it to himself. He imagined what Jane Pearson would have said and was almost certain that she wouldn’t have allowed it. And then he heard another voice in his head. ‘If you’ve nothing to hide, Barty, you tell the truth, and you tell it with conviction, boy.’ It’s exactly what Nanny Clare would have said, and it calmed him.
It was done, and he felt as though he’d run ten marathons. There was nothing he could do now. At least they’d done away with hanging. He felt sweaty and could smell the fear from his armpits. He’d managed to get through the test, and it wasn’t until after it finished that he found he didn’t have the strength to stand up and had to ask for a waste bin to vomit in. He’d ask for a shower when they took him back to his cell. And that was always fun because he had to have a guard with him at all times. He was given a tiny bottle of shampoo and body wash that they have in hotels and was watched in case he drank them. ‘Mind,’ he was told by a guard the first morning, ‘All it’ll do is give you the pukes and the shits. We wouldn’t take you to the hospital for it.’ He wasn’t allowed to have a razor while he was in custody. That was something to work up to when he started his ten life sentences for crimes he didn’t commit. The stubble was driving him mad.
He felt better after a shower and lay on his bed reading some rubbish about a Martian invasion in one of the donated books. PC Bowes came to his cell. He knew them all by name now. ‘Come on, Jones. The governor wants you. Face to the wall and hands behind your back. You know the drill.’ Max did as he was told, and Bowes put the handcuffs on his wrists.
‘Not again. Haven’t you lot had your pound of flesh for one day? You have to let me out tomorrow, don’t you? Does that mean you’re going to grill me all night until I crack?’
‘You’ve been watching too much TV, mate. And anyway, it’s not an interview this time.’
‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know. They don’t tell me anything. I just do as I’m told.’
He was taken to Bronwyn Lewis’s office, and Bowes knocked on the door.
‘Come in.’
‘Jones, Ma’am.’
‘Thank you, Bowes. You can take the cuffs off, and that will be all.’
‘Are you sure, Ma’am?’
‘Quite sure. Please take a seat, Mr Jones.’ Bowes took off the cuffs, and Max realised that he’d been using the officer for balance. When Bowes moved away, so did the earth. Max was hit with a fit of vertigo that made the room spin, and he heard a noise in his head that made him cover his ears with his hands. It was like a discordant Jazz band playing the most grating arrangement in their repertoire. The tinnitus caused by the tumour pressing on his trigeminal nerve was getting worse. But thank God it only came in quick blasts.
Bowes rushed to grab him and helped him into the seat. Lewis gave him a moment before speaking. ‘Do you need a doctor? Are you all right, Mr Jones?’
‘No, I’m dying, but I guess I’m okay. Thanks for asking.’
‘Please let us know if you require any assistance. And Bowes?’
‘Yes, Ma’am?’
‘This meeting never happened. Do you understand you were given this task on trust? This didn’t happen.’
‘Ma’am.’
Bowes left, and Lewis asked Max if he’d like a coffee. This wasn’t unusual, but in the interview room, it was served warm and in Styrofoam cups. This time he was given a mug. There was no recording equipment, and this wasn’t running like any other interview he’d had.
‘I’m confused. What’s happening? I don’t think I like this.’
‘Mr Nash will be joining us in a moment.’
‘I’ve seen my share of nature programmes, and sharks smile like that. No offence.’
There was a tap at the door, and Nash came in. He neither sat on Lewis’s side of the desk nor Max’s, but he took a place at the end.
‘Who are you, Switzerland?’ Max said.
Lewis nodded at Max.
‘Let me tell you about your test results first, Max, and then DCS Lewis wants to talk to you.’
Max had no idea what was going on. What he did know was that they had enough on him to put him away for a hundred and fifty years or more. Max felt that a murderer should serve a full human life sentence to death, and he estimated that it should be eighty years a person, not thirty. In fact, forget softie sentencing. He believed in the death penalty and would have no qualms about pulling the plug on the bad guys. This had to be a trick, but he couldn’t work out what their game was.
‘I’ve got the results of your polygraph here. I’m sure you’re curious.’ Nash was smiling, and Max didn’t like that one bit.
‘Go on. I’m equally sure that you’re dying to tell me.’
‘You passed every question. It’s ninety-nine per cent certain that you’re innocent on all counts.’
‘Go me.’ Max was still confused and didn’t know where this was leading.
‘However,’ Nash said. ‘That still leaves one per cent that says you might have killed at least ten people.’
‘I didn’t, but okay, I’m playing along. So what now?’
‘You have two other aces up your sleeve.’ Max badly wanted to make a smart remark but didn’t. ‘The first is that when the last five bodies were found and staged, you were locked up in here. Very few people knew that. Including, presumably, our killer. Of course, the guys on the task force are all saying you’ve got an accomplice.’ Nash went quiet. ‘But I don’t believe that. You aren’t the kind of bloke to share in any glory.’
‘And?’
‘And?’
‘And the other ace—the other thing in my favour?’
‘I believe it’s not you.’
‘Why?’
‘Too much evidence against you. Cry for help? Wanting to be caught? Okay, but if that were the case, it’s too sloppy—no nuance or subtlety. I’ve watched you for the last four days, and it’s not your style. If it was you, you’re a lone wolf, Jones. You wouldn’t be working with somebody else. We know it’s not you. However, it is somebody with an axe to grind against you.’
‘You don’t say. But thanks for the vote of confidence.’
‘I’m not a fan, Mr Jones. I don’t like you very much, and I have to ask one last time for the record. Did you kill ten people? What about the kids? Those two dead little boys. Did I tell you the bodies of Jamie Little and Gareth Wilson have been released? Adrian hasn’t got over being abducted. That’s the kind of trick you’d play, isn’t it? It was victimless. Nobody got hurt, taking a kid from his bed who was back with his folks before he even woke up properly. Adrian is on sedatives. He’s terrified to go to sleep in case he doesn’t wake up in his bed. Two families are arranging funerals for their children this week. What about that Maxwell Jones?’
‘It’s terrible. I can’t imagine anything worse. Not even my own death is anything compared to what those parents are going through. I feel so sorry for them.’
‘With your condition, is this a retribution on the world kind of thing? Going out in a blaze of glory with a mass killing spree to remember you by?’
‘Nice analogy, but no. I’m dying, and that means my time is limited, and if I’ve thought about it at all, pretty much the opposite of your picture is true. First and foremost, I want to enjoy what time I have left, and that’s not by killing people.’
‘Not even for the posthumous fame it would bring? You must admit, you like the attention.’
‘No. Sorry to disappoint you, but it would be too messy, too much planning and too much like hard work. I don’t like work, Inspector. I have things to do. People to see and say goodbye to in my own dispassionate way and new memories to make now that they’re so damned important. I know I can be a dick, but I want to make people happy before I go.’
‘It hasn’t worked so far. I find you an obnoxious little toerag. The thought of having to spend any time with you makes me want to go back into my retirement—which bored me even more than you do.’
‘That’s enough, DCI Nash,’ Lewis said, and Nash rubbed his eyes where the strain was showing. He looked as though he was about to say sorry, but Max didn’t need to hear him humbled and wanted to give him a break, so he spoke again to fill the chasm.
‘Okay. Hellfire. Don’t pull any punches, will you? What do you mean about spending time together?' Max could hardly breathe. Was Nash saying they were going to let him go? He said he believed him, but what did that mean in real terms?
‘DCS Lewis will take it from here, Jones.’
‘Thank you, Nash.’ She smiled, and Max didn’t trust her. It was warm, and it went all the way up to her eyes and seemed sincere, but if there was one thing Max didn’t trust, it was a powerful woman.
‘Mr Jones. Do you care that there’s a maniac in our town, killing innocent people?’
‘What kind of dumb question is that? Of course, I do. I care even more now that I’m not the patsy on the receiving end of the maniac tag.’
‘Don’t get too complacent, Mr Jones. DCI Nash has persuaded me to ask for your help. I think it’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard, and it could cost us all our careers if he’s wrong. But we’re going to let you out tonight.’
‘I can go home? Without charge? I’m free?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What are you waiting for? Get whatever I’ve got to sign, and let me out.’
‘We need your help.’
‘You said. What can I do, a donation to the Policeman’s Ball? You got it. I'll give you a raffle prize for your next summer fete. Name your cruise. I’ll buy the tickets. It’s yours. But please let me get the hell out of here.’
‘The killer doesn’t know you’re here.’
‘No. You’ve already told me that.’
‘We can use that to our advantage.’
‘I already don’t like this. How?’
‘Against every fibre of my being and my better judgement, we’d like you to help us catch him, Mr Jones.’
‘You know what, Ms Lewis? I was kind of getting to like my cell. I think I'll go back in there until I die. The décor’s a bit vanilla, but hey-ho, with a nice print for the walls and maybe a bookcase, I’ll be fine. Hell no. Are you mad? I’m not getting all tangled up with a crazed killer.’
‘You already are, Mr Jones. Where do you think this is going to end? There’s only one end-of-the-line target that I can see.’
‘Me? You think he’s going to kill me?’
‘Don’t you?' Max looked at Nash for backup, and he was grinning. Nash was enjoying his discomfort. ‘Helping us catch this man before he gets to you could be your only chance.’
‘Am I next?’
‘Maybe, but probably not. He’s having too much fun,’ Nash said.
Max had seen the awful photographs. He didn’t want to die like that. And he didn’t want anybody else that he was close to being killed.
‘What do you want me to do?’
- Log in to post comments
Comments
nice twist! Do people really
nice twist! Do people really do polygraph tests in the UK?
- Log in to post comments
I wonder what they have in
I wonder what they have in store for Max! Look forward to finding out.
Jenny.
- Log in to post comments
ah, Max joins the gang.
ah, Max joins the gang. funnily enough I'm writing about prisons as well.
- Log in to post comments
I wondered about polygraph
I wondered about polygraph tests in Britain. I don't tihnk we use them, but you know more than me.
- Log in to post comments