Banshee Hunt (17 page)

“It's mostly superficial,” the doctor continued. “The bruising will come out in a few days or a week. The stitches are the dissolving sort. And the gashes to your head and back will heal up nicely in time. But the burns will need to be managed carefully. I'll give you a script for some cream and instructions on how and when to apply it. You’ll need to do it three times a day. If you don't they may tighten, restricting your movement.”

“Thank's Doc.”

James reached for his jeans and started pulling them on, glad to finally be able to cover up again. Especially given that the press had now arrived and had the cameras rolling. He didn't want to be on national news in his underwear. But he quite possibly would be regardless. Fires in churches and congregations fleeing in terror got coverage. And while the Illuminati were doing their best to cover things up, it wouldn't be a perfect job. It never was.

“God that's a lot of scars!” She seemed concerned.

“Mixed martial arts.”

“Well its about time you gave that up – while you still have some skin left!”

James gathered she didn't approve of his choice of fitness. But also that maybe she felt sorry for him. He didn't like that at all. But he held back the angry retort that almost made his tongue. The German had said he had to be nicer to his colleagues and he would do it. Anything to avoid being lumped with a partner.

“It's useful fitness for a hunter.”

“I don't think it's that much use. You know, you really are starting to look like an overused crash test dummy!” Yasmin stared at James as he dressed, making him feel even more uncomfortable. “Tell me, have you ever thought about not getting shot, burnt, beaten up and battered?”

“And have you ever thought about getting back to work? Go! Do your job!” James shooed her away with a wave of his hand. There was something distinctly uncomfortable in being dressed down by her when he wasn't fully dressed. She might mean nothing by it really, but she was an attractive woman, and it damaged what little ego he had left. On the other hand she had been smiling as she said it. Perhaps he was making some headway with her. The German would have to be pleased with that.

“Dear God! You work with her and speak to her like that?!” The doctor sounded shocked. His eyes were firmly fixed on Yasmin as she walked away.

She did cut a pretty figure and interesting parts of her swayed in intriguing ways. And despite what she claimed, James was sure she knew it. Knew it and used it.

“Do you have a head wound?”

James stared at the doctor in shock. “You know I have a head wound Doc! You just stitched it up!”

“Oh yeah.”

James tried not to groan. But really he was used to the problem. Whenever he went out in the field with Yasmin people kept staring at the two of them, and he knew the question on every man's mind he passed was – how could a boring looking guy like him be with a beauty like her? And now that he was trying to be nice to her and the others, to do what the German had said and make some connections or at least a better impression, he suspected the problem was only going to get worse. But still, his eyes were trained on Yasmin’s backside just as firmly as those of the doctor as she walked away. At the end of the day he was only a man.

“And that's a reason to speak to her like that? Like an underling?” The doctor stared at him in disbelief. “Maybe you do need an x-ray!”

James shook his head sorrowfully. He could have pointed out that Yasmin was actually his underling, sort of. Or he could have said something about the doctor's lack of professional detachment. Instead he went for the trite. “It's not like that Doc. We work together. It would be unprofessional. And besides, I couldn't afford her shoe budget!”

The doctor suddenly fixed him with an intense look. “Try!”

Chapter Eleven

For once the office was quiet as James went through the paces with Yasmin. That made a change. Lately, with so many people in their holding cells and so many psychologists tending to them, it had been organised chaos. So he was glad of the calm for a change. But if business was a little more quiet than it had been, office relations weren't. And he wasn't so glad that Yasmin was fighting him. Again. In fact at the moment she was practically getting in his face and yelling at him.

Why did she always have to be so difficult? It was as though she deliberately took things the wrong way. And this time she really was upset. Standing in front of him, hands on hips, and all but screaming at him as he sat in his chair in front of her. Although this time she might have had reason. He might have said something stupid. Except that it hadn't seemed that stupid when he'd said it. And he absolutely hadn't made another pot plant crack – he was sure of that.

“You want me to seduce him! Like I'm some sort of five buck hooker?” She absolutely wasn't happy about that. “I have a PhD! A doctorate! And you think I should be some sort of tramp?!”

“Not seduce. Maybe that was the wrong word and I'm sorry.” He really was sorry. Ever since the interview he'd given her with Natasha she'd been almost friendly with him. Now suddenly they were back to square one. Maybe even square minus one. But if she was so bright he kept wondering, why did she not understand how the game was played? Of course a PhD in musicology was less than practical in his view. Not that he would dare say that to her. Not when he was desperately trying to be nice to his co-workers.

The others he noticed weren't going to help him. West was doubled over at his desk, his chest heaving with silent laughter. Daniels and Peters were both turned away from them, staring at anything other than the angry Amazon tearing strips off him. Somehow he'd gone from being the Iceman to the village idiot.

“I just want you to tempt him a bit. Distract him. Use what God gave you. The more fixated on you he is the less he'll be able to think about his answers. And unguarded answers are what we want. They're gold in this game.”

That was one of the differences he'd noticed between his work here and when he'd been a detective in the police. The Illuminati might have all the strange gifts in the world, but they didn't understand interviewing and interrogation. They weren't trained. And now that he had so many suspects to interrogate and he was trying to make use of his team as both Will and the German had told him he should, that was becoming obvious.

“You're a damned pervert! A pimp!” Yasmin really wasn't happy with him. “Do you want me to strip for him as well? Let him grope me a bit? Put him down on the interview table and screw his brains out?”

“No! Hell no! Of course not! I'm not asking you to sleep with him. Nothing like that.” James tried again. Things had been going so well lately, and suddenly they were back to this. “All I want is for you to just to let him think about it a bit. And he will.”

“Remember he's from a conservative country. He has no wife or girlfriend. This is a strange land to him – he's only been here six months. And he is finally starting to crack. He’s the only one of the six to do so so far. It's time to widen those cracks a bit more and see what leaks through. And you're the only one who can do it.”

“Because I'm female?” Anger radiated off her in waves.

James sighed quietly. Why was she like this? One minute she was angry with him because he wanted someone else to interview the priest instead of her. The next she was upset because he wanted her to interview a genuine suspect. He just couldn't win.

“Yes. Of course yes. You're a woman and you're beautiful. Smoking hot. It's time to use what God gave you.”

“That's …” She searched for the right word and apparently couldn't find it.

“It's simply practical. Interrogation is an art. Like making a movie. And those who do it well are like actors. The right actor for the right role. They know what will work best for them.”

“Everyone has certain edges they can use in an interrogation. I'm the authoritarian; cold and scary. I come across as the big, bad guy. You wonder why I don't object when the warden and others tell stories about me? Why I don't argue? It's useful. I use that image of the Iceman when it serves. Here it won't serve. These people have already been brainwashed into believing everyone here is a monster of some sort. All I could do is reinforce that image and put their backs up. Daniels is young and well dressed. He radiates importance and bureaucracy. He can use that – but again not here. Sza is working class. He has no respect for officialdom and fancy clothes. He'd simply take one look at Daniels and dismiss him. And this is what you can use. Especially on Sza. I'm sorry if you find that demeaning, but it's the truth.”

“You think I'm beautiful?” Her tone changed unexpectedly. Warmed slightly.

“Concentrate!” James stamped on the question. He could see the conversation about to veer off track and he wasn't about to spend the next however long discussing her physical attributes. “Use your charms. Hammer home how much you want to help him. How sorry you feel for him having been used. Bat your big brown eyes at him a bit. He thinks we're the enemy. You have to show him a warmer, softer side. One that makes him question what he's been brainwashed into believing. One that makes him want to believe you.”

“But keep reminding him that he murdered his friend. Tell him that somewhere out there is a weeping mother who will never have her son come home again. Ram that guilt home. It's his biggest weakness. It's why he's cracking where the others aren't yet. Show him the inconsistency between what he did and what he says he believes in.” And after three days, he thought it was about time someone cracked. The psychologists were making headway, but far too slowly.

“Fine! I'll do it. But this is not right! And my eyes are hazel!”

With that Yasmin left him, heading for the interview room where Sza – or Sza Susa as they now knew him, assuming he hadn't lied – was already waiting. James was grateful for that. But as she left she made sure to sway her hips provocatively, treating him to a stunning view, and at the end when she reached her desk she managed a come hither look back at him with a coquettish flick of her head. It was an effective move. He was the Iceman damn it! He'd come to almost like the title they'd given him – but even he discovered then that ice could melt. Dear God she was hot!

Of course he managed a death's head sort of grimace in turn, which didn't please her at all.

“Are you calling me officious?” Daniels piped up from his desk pretending to be outraged. But he wasn't really. He was desperately trying to keep a straight face and barely succeeding.

“I'm saying you dress too well to be just a lowly grunt copper like me.”

Had he saved himself with that James wondered? He suspected not. Not when West finally gave up the struggle and burst out laughing and then Peters joined in. Soon the pair of them were braying away like donkeys and James was trying not to turn red.

“You know if you were cops I'd have all of you walking the beat for life!” James snapped. But it didn't quiet them down. If anything they just laughed louder.

After that he gave up arguing, got up and headed for the observation room. Yasmin had already entered the interview room and he wanted to see for himself what she could get from the prisoner. It also served to get him away from the others.

One thing the Illuminati had got right with their interview rooms was that they'd switched from the traditional one way glass mirrors to camera surveillance. Partly he suspected that it was cheaper. But maybe they'd also worked out that every criminal and everyone who'd ever seen a cop show on the tv would look at a mirror in the interview room and instantly think someone was on the other side of it. The cameras located in the ceiling corners were less obtrusive.

They had one other advantage too – they were digital. The feeds from them were plugged into the computers so that every nuance of behaviour, every micro expression the subject made, could be recorded and analysed in depth later. They also had infra-red capabilities, allowing them to study the subject's autonomic response. To put it crudely, if Sza got a hard on they would know about it.

Perhaps most important though, they'd got the seating right. And the observation room was the one place in the office he could sit down with his burns and feel comfortable. The soft cushioned fabric didn't dig into him as did the fabric of the other harder chairs.

William was already sitting in the room when James got there, stretched out in a chair with the brim of his cowboy hat hanging low. James hadn't seen much of him for the last couple of days – he'd been busy with the scene at the church and dealing with the elders – both things James would have wanted nothing to do with. But he was looking relaxed. The technician sitting at the computer by contrast was looking all business as he focused on his work.

“So how'd your conversation go?” Will greeted him as he sat down beside him.

“Alright I think. She'll do what needs to be done with the interview. She may hate me forever but that's okay.”

“Not Yasmin you fool. Your daughter. I heard you got a call.”

“And how did you hear that?” James was surprised by that, though not by Will's interest. He was always meddling in his private matters. He seemed to think it was one of his duties as his boss. James though thought he was just being nosy.

For an answer Will just shrugged.

“It went well,” James told him non-committally. Actually it had gone much better than that. It had been wonderful. He hadn't heard from Matti in ages, and her e-mails were always too short. He desperately wanted to be able to phone her of course, or even better to be able to simply drive over to her school and visit – but those things were forbidden to him by the courts. Even now, five years later, her mother was still trying to stop him seeing her. But Matti could call him and there was nothing her mother or her damned lawyer could do about it. She just didn't do it very often.

She had called this time because she was feeling vulnerable he suspected. The school was a bastion for her. Still, every child needed parents, and Sheryl had been checked into a clinic for self-harming herself again. The Fairview Haven was becoming her home away from home for the moment – another huge drain on his expenses. He wasn't even sure why he was paying, save that she was Matti's mother and as such he had to care for her if he was to keep his daughter well. With that and Matti seeing him on the news sitting in the back of an ambulance being sewn up outside a burning church, a nerve had obviously been struck.

“Oh my God! What's that? Actual emotion? Is the Iceman actually starting to thaw?” Will asked, letting a little gentle sarcasm flow.

“Watch the interview,” James told him gruffly. Why did everyone care about his private life? Why did anyone? It was his life wasn't it?

Of course there wasn't much to see at first. Yasmin was just starting with the basic facts. The things Sza could either agree with or deny. It was always best to get them out of the way first. It set a platform from which to start the questions. But Yasmin despite her protestations did know how to work a room. And as she walked around it letting the suspect see what he wanted to see, Sza's attention was drawn to her. Like a moth to a flame. His eyes followed her closely, focusing on her attributes. He was clearly distracted. And the more distracted he was the less he concentrated on his answers.

Still, he was determined to give nothing away. Not until Yasmin finally started driving home the fact that he'd killed his friend. That was hard for him, and each time she mentioned it Sza's voice caught in his throat and he became hesitant. At one point he even let it slip that “she” wouldn't have told him to do something wrong. There was a reason. It had been the right thing to do. Though of course he couldn't think why.

“She.”
An admission perhaps that it was the Asian woman. James couldn't have got that from him. Sza would have closed up on him. He would have seen him only as the enemy and refused to even speak with him. But put a pretty woman in the room and tongues started loosening. James’ strategy was working and in time he expected they would have her name.

But it was going to take time. And each of the seven suspects they now had sitting in their holding cells was going to have to be handled differently.