Luke Delaney - The Toy Taker

‘No comment,’ McKenzie continued with a smirk, the involuntary tapping of his foot returning.

‘Then you don’t have an alibi,’ Sean tried to bait him.

‘That’s not what my client said,’ Jackson got involved. ‘He merely declined to answer your question.’

‘My apologies,’ Sean told her. ‘Speaking of declined, yesterday you declined to deny that you had taken the boy. I’ll give you the chance to do so again, Mark. Are you telling me that you had nothing to do with the boy going missing? A simple yes or no will do.’

‘No comment.’

‘Tell me you had nothing to do with it, Mark, and you never know, I might even start to believe you.’

‘You expect me to make your job easy for you,’ McKenzie answered, unable to resist any longer. His hatred of the police drove him to torment Sean as the police had tormented him on so many occasions, knowing he was defenceless. He couldn’t go running to the media with tales of torture and evidence-planting — as far as everyone else was concerned he was a sex-offender and had got what he deserved. Now it was his turn to be the tormentor ‘You’re the police, you’re the detectives, yet you can’t even find one missing boy?’

‘We’ll find him, don’t worry about that,’ Sean told him.

‘Really?’ McKenzie mocked. ‘And how you going to do that?’

‘As we speak there are specialist search teams combing North London with dogs and helicopters. How long d’you think it’s going to be before we find him? And when we do, we’ll find the evidence that will hang you.’

‘Is that what you’d like to do to me, Inspector — hang me? Isn’t that what they sing to people like me in prison — Sex case. Sex case. Hang him. Hang him. Hang him ?’

‘It doesn’t have to be like that,’ Sean changed tack. ‘If you help us find the boy, if you tell us where he is, then I can help you.’

The smirk fell from McKenzie’s face as he began to chew his bottom lip. ‘It’s too late anyway,’ he told them, looking and sounding suddenly solemn. ‘It’s too late.’

‘It’s not,’ Sean kept going, sensing a breakthrough. ‘No matter what’s happened, it’s not too late. Tell us where the boy is, alive or otherwise, and we can talk about it — we can talk about anything you want.’

‘No.’ McKenzie immediately clammed up again. ‘You can’t prove anything. I’m saying nothing.’

‘Damn it, Mark,’ Sean continued, frustration beginning to show as he sensed McKenzie slipping away, ‘how long d’you think it’ll be before we can prove you were in the house? We’ve just sent dozens of fingerprints and forensic exhibits to Fingerprint Bureau and the lab — how long before we find out some of them belong to you? How long, Mark?’

McKenzie looked worried again — deeply worried. ‘No. If you could prove anything you would have charged me by now or …’

‘Or what?’ Sean seized on McKenzie’s hesitation. ‘Or what, Mark?’

‘Nothing,’ he answered, leaning back in his chair, away from Sean.

‘Listen,’ Sean told him, ‘pretty soon my Assistant Commissioner is going to go on television and tell the world that a young boy was snatched from his own bed while he slept. The reporters are going to ask him if we have any suspects and you know what he’s going to tell them, Mark? He’s going to tell them your name and he’s going to show everyone a picture of you.’

‘He can’t do that,’ McKenzie protested.

‘Yes he can, Mark, because you’re a credible suspect and we’re well within our rights to ask the public for their help in tracing your movements during the last couple of days. For Christ’s sake, a four-year-old boy is missing. We can do pretty much whatever we like to help find him. Your name and photograph, Mark, all over the TV and papers — the Internet. If you don’t start talking, if you don’t admit your involvement then, yes, you’re right — I can’t charge you. Which means I’ll have to release you — back out there with all those people just waiting for you — all those angry people, Mark. What d’you think they’ll want to do to you?’

‘That’s not entirely true, Mark,’ his solicitor advised him. ‘If the police believe you could be in danger then they have a duty of care.’ McKenzie looked blank. ‘They have to protect you — no matter what.’

‘I don’t want their protection,’ McKenzie barked. ‘I don’t trust them. I’ll take care of myself.’

‘Mark,’ Sally jumped in, ‘George has been missing for almost thirty-six hours now. He’s only four years old and therefore incapable of surviving for long on his own, especially with these freezing nights.’

‘So?’ McKenzie asked, his eyes narrow with suspicion.

‘So, it won’t be long before we have to assume he’s no longer alive, whether we find a body or not,’ Sally explained. ‘When that happens, you’ll no longer be a suspect for abduction, you’ll be a suspect for the murder of a child. You’ll be the most hated man in Britain, and not everybody will be as fussy about proof as we are.’

‘Don’t lie to me. I already am a murder suspect.’

‘That’s not true,’ Sally argued.

‘Yes it is,’ McKenzie insisted. ‘You think I killed the boy — I know you do. So why don’t you just charge me with murder? Do it!’ He banged his fist on the table. ‘I want you to, so just do it.’

‘Admit to it and we will charge you,’ Sean told him.

‘So long as you can convince us you’re telling the truth,’ Sally qualified.

‘I’m not going to admit to anything,’ McKenzie told them, his face tight with desperation. ‘I’m not going to help you. If you’re so sure I’m guilty, then charge me and we’ll see each other in court. And when the boy’s body is found it won’t be me the media comes after — they’ll soon forget about me. It’ll be you they hunt down.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Sean replied.

‘Then charge me and let’s find out.’

‘I’ll decide when to charge you, and then I will see you in court and you will be found guilty and you will go to prison — for the rest of your life,’ Sean warned him.

‘Then do it,’ McKenzie challenged him, his voice raised as he smiled through gritted teeth. ‘Do it and let’s get this over with.’

‘No,’ Sean told him, stretching to turn off the tape recorder. ‘This interview is terminated.’

‘You can’t do that,’ McKenzie insisted.

‘Then tell me what happened,’ Sean demanded.

‘No,’ McKenzie answered, slumping in his chair. ‘No. I won’t tell you anything.’

‘In that case, this interview is over,’ Sean told him and pressed the off button with a loud click.

‘What now?’ the solicitor asked.

‘No doubt you’ll want a further consultation with your client, and we also need some time to consider what action we’ll be taking.’

‘Don’t take too long, Inspector,’ Jackson warned. ‘You’re running out of detention time and I don’t see any further lines of inquiry that could justify an application at the Magistrates Court for a further extension.’

‘You’ll find magistrates can be very obliging when it concerns a missing child,’ Sally told her. ‘We’ll keep you informed.’

Both she and Sean left the interview room and closed the door behind them, walking a few steps away from it before feeling safe to talk.

‘Well?’ Sally asked. ‘What now?’

‘We stick to the plan,’ Sean answered. ‘Once he’s released, he’ll be in danger from the public, therefore we have a duty to protect him.’

‘You mean follow him?’

Sean shrugged innocently. ‘All I know is this means Featherstone and Addis have to give us a surveillance team — R versus Brindle — remember? And whilst they’re looking after him they might as well report his movements to me. Nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone.’