“Then I have the right to be given a reasonable chance to communicate with a lawyer.”
“You do,” he tells me. “But Ms. Marino, I think you should let me speak for a moment.”
I nod slowly. I don’t have to say anything if I don’t want to.
“You, Duncan Malone, a man who we cannot yet identify, and Johnny Marino were all arrested tonight. We’ve got video surveillance from the school sports hall, however, that will be entered as evidence should any one of you be charged with a crime.”
I blink. Video evidence. The gym had cameras!
“Nobody has been charged yet?”
“No.”
“Not even my father?”
Grayson raises an eyebrow. “Why are you concerned with him in particular?”
I shrug. “He’s my dad. What daughter wouldn’t be?”
“Look,” he says, clasping his hands together on the table in front of me. He wears a silver wedding ring. His hands have the texture of weathered leather. “The truth is I don’t think you had anything to do with this. I think you were the victim here.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask.
“Yes. We have you entering Australia with a false identity presumably under duress. You are pregnant, obviously, and soon after Duncan Malone entered the country, followed by your father and the big bloke, who we learned about after a tip-off. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you were running away. The question is, from whom?”
My eyes widen. Do they suspect Duncan of anything?
“Did you watch the tape?” I ask.
He nods. “Of course.”
“Then you know Duncan and I were both the victims.”
“Let’s talk about you,” he says. He gets up, walks to the door, and then pokes his head outside. A few moments later a television is wheeled in. He thanks the man who brought it in, then shuts the door.
He empties his pockets then, onto the table.
“What are you doing?”
“In my pockets I have my wallet, a stick of gum, and my mobile phone.” He picks up his phone, unlocks it, then holds it out in front of me. “Please turn it off.”
I would think that he’s just trying to get my fingerprints, but they already printed me. I’m too on-edge, too paranoid. My mind is racing through every possibility, but I can’t figure out why he wants me to touch his phone.
I reach out, turn off the phone.
“As you can see around the room, you are not being watched, listened to, or recorded. There are no cameras in here as this is just an interview room. No two-way mirrors. It’s not like the cop shows on telly.”
“So?” I ask.
“In my pockets I have no recording devices, and my phone is off.”
“You could be wearing a wire,” I say, but it sounds stupid even as I say it.
He doesn’t laugh at me, to his credit. “You’re right. I can take off my shirt if you’d like.”
“Just get to the point,” I say.
“Right now what you say to me can be admitted as evidence. However, I am not recording you, as a gesture of good faith because I believe you are a victim.”
“You can still testify against me.”
“Which is why I’m going to ask you a series of yes-or-no questions. You simply nod your head or shake it. That testimony would not stand.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
“I’m only interested in catching the bad guys, Ms. Marino. I have no desire to see innocent people charged incorrectly.” He gestures at my belly. “I have three children myself, and I can remember the first pregnancy like it was yesterday. I know how tough it’s been for you. I’m only interested in the truth.”
I let his words roll off me. I don’t trust him.
He flicks on the television, and the recording of the gym buzzes to life. It’s black-and-white, more blurred than sharp, but it is unmistakably the events which occurred just earlier tonight.
The camera is obviously positioned behind us. I can see Frank… and myself sitting just in front of him. I can see Dad, too, his pistol gleaming with reflected light. Farther out in the image are Duncan and Bullock, standing opposite each other at the half-court line of the basketball court.
“Is this you?” he says, pointing at me.
I nod.
“And this is your father? Yes? Okay. Frank, Duncan, and the big guy, right? Good.”
I take in a breath. There’s no harm in identifying them.
He plays the video. I watch Duncan and Bullock fight, and wince at the narrow misses as Bullock swipes his knife at Duncan.
Grayson pauses it. “Does this man, the big guy, have a weapon?”
I nod.
“Is it a knife?”
Nod.
“And is Duncan being forced to fight?”