Well find him, dont 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 dyou think its going to be before we find him? And when we do, well find the evidence that will hang you.
Is that what youd like to do to me, Inspector hang me? Isnt that what they sing to people like me in prison Sex case. Sex case. Hang him. Hang him. Hang him?
It doesnt 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 McKenzies face as he began to chew his bottom lip. Its too late anyway, he told them, looking and sounding suddenly solemn. Its too late.
Its not, Sean kept going, sensing a breakthrough. No matter whats happened, its 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 cant prove anything. Im saying nothing.
Damn it, Mark, Sean continued, frustration beginning to show as he sensed McKenzie slipping away, how long dyou think itll be before we can prove you were in the house? Weve 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 McKenzies 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 hes going to tell them, Mark? Hes going to tell them your name and hes going to show everyone a picture of you.
He cant do that, McKenzie protested.
Yes he can, Mark, because youre a credible suspect and were well within our rights to ask the public for their help in tracing your movements during the last couple of days. For Christs 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 dont start talking, if you dont admit your involvement then, yes, youre right I cant charge you. Which means Ill have to release you back out there with all those people just waiting for you all those angry people, Mark. What dyou think theyll want to do to you?
Thats 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 dont want their protection, McKenzie barked. I dont trust them. Ill take care of myself.
Mark, Sally jumped in, George has been missing for almost thirty-six hours now. Hes 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 wont be long before we have to assume hes no longer alive, whether we find a body or not, Sally explained. When that happens, youll no longer be a suspect for abduction, youll be a suspect for the murder of a child. Youll be the most hated man in Britain, and not everybody will be as fussy about proof as we are.
Dont lie to me. I already am a murder suspect.
Thats not true, Sally argued.
Yes it is, McKenzie insisted. You think I killed the boy I know you do. So why dont 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 youre telling the truth, Sally qualified.
Im not going to admit to anything, McKenzie told them, his face tight with desperation. Im not going to help you. If youre so sure Im guilty, then charge me and well see each other in court. And when the boys body is found it wont be me the media comes after theyll soon forget about me. Itll be you they hunt down.
I dont think so, Sean replied.
Then charge me and lets find out.
Ill 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 lets get this over with.
No, Sean told him, stretching to turn off the tape recorder. This interview is terminated.
You cant do that, McKenzie insisted.
Then tell me what happened, Sean demanded.
No, McKenzie answered, slumping in his chair. No. I wont 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 youll want a further consultation with your client, and we also need some time to consider what action well be taking.
Dont take too long, Inspector, Jackson warned. Youre running out of detention time and I dont see any further lines of inquiry that could justify an application at the Magistrates Court for a further extension.
Youll find magistrates can be very obliging when it concerns a missing child, Sally told her. Well 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 hes released, hell 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 theyre looking after him they might as well report his movements to me. Nothing wrong with killing two birds with one stone.
Youll be popular with the brass.
Fuck em. We dont have enough to charge him so we have to let him go, and if we have to let him go I want him followed. Who knows he may panic and lead us straight to George Bridgeman.
Or he may go to ground and stay there? Sally suggested.
He could.
Then perhaps we should keep him in custody a while longer and see what Forensics and Fingerprints come up with? The magistrates will give us an extension what choice do they have?
No, Sean insisted. Hes too confident hes left nothing. Besides, if we get a match well just re-arrest him. With a surveillance team up his arse at least well know where he is if we need to bring him back in. Ill call Featherstone and as soon as we have the surveillance scrambled well bail him straight into their hands.
Hes going to suspect hes being followed, Sally pointed out.
No matter, Sean argued. It might make him nervous, then hell be all the more likely to make a mistake. Well brief the surveillance team to make it look like hes lost them if he starts giving them the run-around and then well find out what he doesnt want us to see.
If you say so, Sally reluctantly agreed.
Good, Sean told her.
So long as you still think hes our man.
He has to be.
Then why was he so desperate for us to charge him?
I dont know, Sean admitted. Maybe he wants the notoriety?
So why not admit it?
Because hes not ready to burn all his bridges yet who knows with his type? Ian Brady still wont tell anyone where some of his victims are buried. Maybe McKenzie needs to feel he has sole possession of George.
Weird and disturbing, Sally told him.
A troubled soul, Sean said, more to himself than Sally.
Another one? He didnt answer the question.
Do me a favour and hang around here until I get the surveillance sorted out. When its done, well get back to the Yard.
No problem.
Dont worry about McKenzie. He can play his fucked-up games as long as he wants, but hell screw up soon enough. Like I say: they always do.
Mrs Bridgeman led Donnelly along the corridor and into the kitchen of her house in Hampstead. He hadnt told her he was coming. I was expecting DC ONeil, she told him. No one else not unless
DC ONeil will be along very shortly, he explained, but I thought I should call round and make sure youre settling back in OK after your night away.
Celia Bridgeman looked exhausted and soulless. You havent found him though, have you?
No, Donnelly answered, but we will. An awkward silence filled the room.
Would you like a drink or anything? Mrs Bridgeman managed to ask.
Aye, Donnelly replied cheerfully, cuppa tea would be grand.
She looked at the nanny and lifted her chin. The nanny filled the kettle and started preparing the mugs.
How do you like it? Caroline asked.
Builders tea for me, please plenty milk and two sugars. Caroline returned his smile while Mrs Bridgeman remained lost in her own painful thoughts, almost oblivious to their presence. Actually, Donnelly continued, I need to check something for the forensic boys in Georges bedroom perhaps, Caroline, you could show me the way?
She looked a little cautious for a second before realizing shed been given a gilt-edged chance to escape from Mrs Bridgemans despair, even if it was just for a few minutes. Will that be all right, Mrs Bridgeman? she asked.
What? Mrs Bridgeman replied. Im sorry, I didnt hear what you said.
Will it be all right if I show the detective Georges room?
Donnelly saw her shrink at the mere mention of her sons name, the horror and terror of what she must have been going through not lost on him, despite his outward appearance.
Yes. Yes. Of course, she answered, before returning to staring at the floor.
This way, Caroline told Donnelly, leading the way out of the kitchen and to the staircase.
Donnelly followed close behind her as he observed the interior structure of the house, which mirrored those on either side. He waited till theyd cleared the first flight of stairs before speaking again.
Sophia not at home today? he asked.
No, Caroline answered. I was happy to look after her, but Mr Bridgeman thought it best if she returned to school and got back into her normal routine as soon as possible. Normalize things, he said. I dont know he might be right, I suppose.