hesitated. You can't afford to hesitate. Do you think he hesitated when he took your money and pushed you over all those times?
"I had this. I wanted to do it."
Tough. You'll learn from this.
Amy looked down and saw Ted's eyes flutter than die. The life evaporated from them and his body became limp. Blood was pouring into the snow, melting it into a pink slush. A small jet of crimson shot from his nose, spraying his coat and chin.
Amy stepped forward and kicked the body. Her shoe thudded against his overweight frame. The body rocked slightly with the impact. "I thought it would be…better. More fun."
The more you do it, the more fun it becomes.
"I suppose."
The next one is all you, I promise.
"I thought you didn’t make promises?"
For my best friend, I would do anything. Remember that.
"Okay." Amy checked her watch. "It's nearly three. Mum will be home soon. Let's go."
Amy turned her back on Ted. The snow started to fall again, the snowflakes sticking to his dead body. Amy made her way out of the deep woods, back onto the lane that ran parallel to the nearby lakes, behind their school. She glanced around, seeing no one. In this weather, everyone was indoors instead of out in the snow.
Which is why her plan had worked. On the way out of school, she'd spotted Ted and taunted him, got him to chase her into the woods. She knew he would, his humiliation at her hands a few days before too huge for his ego.
Now, he was lying dead in the snow.
Gone, an afterthought.
Amy grinned and made tracks for her house.
"Mr. Brunswick, can you tell us what happened in the office after your wife left?"
"You don’t have to answer that." Jae Catchpool held a hand out in front of his client. Bruce nodded, smiling. "No comment."
D.S Moore sighed. "Okay. Between the time that your wife left the building and you left the building, we believe Dr. Barden was murdered. This was from 14:05 to 14:08, which is three minutes. The time of death is near exact, 14:13, which is enough time for the victim to die of blood loss from his neck wound. The wrist wounds were superficial, a majority of blood escaped through the gash in his throat. With the jugular slit, time of death would have occurred quickly. The only person who was there, apart from Carol, who left soon after, was you."
"Maybe she did it. Maybe she wasn’t getting paid enough."
Catchpool shot his client an irritated look. He said nothing.
"Maybe. But security cameras have her leaving at about the same time as your wife and daughter. You let her pass you as you left; you waited for her to drive by. We ruled her out."
"Convenient."
"Detective Sergeant Moore, do you have any evidence to confirm my client was in the room at that time?" Catchpool leaned forward, clicking his pen against his fingernails.
"We have several bank notes bearing Mr. Brunswick's fingerprints."
"Inconclusive. How do you know they were dropped that day? My client could have paid in cash before. He did confirm he'd visited Dr. Barden for a pre-meeting. He could have paid upfront?"
"We have no record of that."
"Then it can't be used as evidence. No paper trail, it's meaningless."
"Why would Dr. Barden drop them in the reception?"
"Why would he suddenly die without a killer? Isn't that why we're here. Anyone could have dropped that money."
"Okay."
Silence filled the interview room. Bruce scratched his bandaged hand and flinched in pain. He lowered them below the table and looked on in silence.
Catchpool sat forward. "Okay, so if you don’t have evidence that he was there, apart from your witness statement, do you have evidence he was in the room when Dr. Barden died?"
"No."
Bruce smiled, smugly.
"No? Why are we even here?" Catchpool leaned back, crossing his legs.
"We’re here because a witness put him at the scene. The CCTV matches the times."
"Was there CCTV in the office?"
"In a psychologist’s office? Be reasonable, man. There could be all sorts of lawsuits for material like that.
"I had this. I wanted to do it."
Tough. You'll learn from this.
Amy looked down and saw Ted's eyes flutter than die. The life evaporated from them and his body became limp. Blood was pouring into the snow, melting it into a pink slush. A small jet of crimson shot from his nose, spraying his coat and chin.
Amy stepped forward and kicked the body. Her shoe thudded against his overweight frame. The body rocked slightly with the impact. "I thought it would be…better. More fun."
The more you do it, the more fun it becomes.
"I suppose."
The next one is all you, I promise.
"I thought you didn’t make promises?"
For my best friend, I would do anything. Remember that.
"Okay." Amy checked her watch. "It's nearly three. Mum will be home soon. Let's go."
Amy turned her back on Ted. The snow started to fall again, the snowflakes sticking to his dead body. Amy made her way out of the deep woods, back onto the lane that ran parallel to the nearby lakes, behind their school. She glanced around, seeing no one. In this weather, everyone was indoors instead of out in the snow.
Which is why her plan had worked. On the way out of school, she'd spotted Ted and taunted him, got him to chase her into the woods. She knew he would, his humiliation at her hands a few days before too huge for his ego.
Now, he was lying dead in the snow.
Gone, an afterthought.
Amy grinned and made tracks for her house.
"Mr. Brunswick, can you tell us what happened in the office after your wife left?"
"You don’t have to answer that." Jae Catchpool held a hand out in front of his client. Bruce nodded, smiling. "No comment."
D.S Moore sighed. "Okay. Between the time that your wife left the building and you left the building, we believe Dr. Barden was murdered. This was from 14:05 to 14:08, which is three minutes. The time of death is near exact, 14:13, which is enough time for the victim to die of blood loss from his neck wound. The wrist wounds were superficial, a majority of blood escaped through the gash in his throat. With the jugular slit, time of death would have occurred quickly. The only person who was there, apart from Carol, who left soon after, was you."
"Maybe she did it. Maybe she wasn’t getting paid enough."
Catchpool shot his client an irritated look. He said nothing.
"Maybe. But security cameras have her leaving at about the same time as your wife and daughter. You let her pass you as you left; you waited for her to drive by. We ruled her out."
"Convenient."
"Detective Sergeant Moore, do you have any evidence to confirm my client was in the room at that time?" Catchpool leaned forward, clicking his pen against his fingernails.
"We have several bank notes bearing Mr. Brunswick's fingerprints."
"Inconclusive. How do you know they were dropped that day? My client could have paid in cash before. He did confirm he'd visited Dr. Barden for a pre-meeting. He could have paid upfront?"
"We have no record of that."
"Then it can't be used as evidence. No paper trail, it's meaningless."
"Why would Dr. Barden drop them in the reception?"
"Why would he suddenly die without a killer? Isn't that why we're here. Anyone could have dropped that money."
"Okay."
Silence filled the interview room. Bruce scratched his bandaged hand and flinched in pain. He lowered them below the table and looked on in silence.
Catchpool sat forward. "Okay, so if you don’t have evidence that he was there, apart from your witness statement, do you have evidence he was in the room when Dr. Barden died?"
"No."
Bruce smiled, smugly.
"No? Why are we even here?" Catchpool leaned back, crossing his legs.
"We’re here because a witness put him at the scene. The CCTV matches the times."
"Was there CCTV in the office?"
"In a psychologist’s office? Be reasonable, man. There could be all sorts of lawsuits for material like that.
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