‘I haven’t been given a breath test.’
‘You want to take one?’
‘What would be the point? I wasn’t driving.’
‘But I could argue that you drove there drunk. Or were about
to leave drunk. Your keys were in the ignition.’
‘You could argue that, and I could argue that you’re an
arsehole.’
‘Fuck it, Tate, why the hell don’t you try to help yourself
here? Huh? Why don’t you capitalise on the fact that right at this moment I’m the best friend you have in this city.’
And why’s that?’
‘Because you made the call and gave us the names of the other
two girls. That got us started.’
‘That was a month ago,’ I say. It was the same day I contacted Alicia North, the best friend of Rachel’s that David had told me about. Alicia North hadn’t heard of Father Julian, hadn’t heard of Bruce or Sidney Alderman, hadn’t heard of anything at all that could have helped me. It was also the same day I started cracking lots of seals on lots of bottles of alcohol in order to push the visuals I was having of a lifeless Sidney Alderman into the back of my mind.
‘Yeah, it was a month ago, but I’m a giving guy and right now
I’m giving you some goodwill. See, the way we’ve been seeing it, Sidney Alderman did a runner the same day you told me you had
the names of the girls and a day before somebody rang the horiine with the anonymous information. Since then there haven’t been
any more missing girls.’
‘So I’m in your good books and Alderman is in your bad
books. Fine. You going to let me go?’
‘The problem,’ he says, and he makes a face when he sips at his coffee, ‘is Father Julian. Somehow he fits into all of this, and that’s a problem. For us, for him and for you. If you thought the case was over, you’d be at home right now. You wouldn’t be following Julian. And if you believed Alderman was guilty, you’d be out
there looking for him.’
“Now you’re the one who seems obsessed.’
‘Strange that Alderman didn’t wait to see his son buried.
He didn’t take his car. He didn’t pack any clothes. That adds up badly, Tate, and I keep coming to the conclusion that you know something about that. How many times have we pulled you in
here now?’
‘If you’ve got a point, just make it.’
‘How about you take this chance to explain things to me, and
maybe I can start to figure out what in the hell is happening to you. Jesus, you’re more drunk each time we drag you in. This is the third time since the protection order was issued a week ago.
Anybody else and they’d be kept in custody. They’d be facing
time. There ain’t going to be any favours if we bring you in for a fourth. Come on, man, you know sending an ex-cop into prison
isn’t going to be pretty’
‘Can I go now?’
‘No. Tell me about Father Julian.’
‘What about him?’
‘You’re practically camping outside his church in your car most nights. That booze is fucking up your brain because you can’t
figure out what a protection order means. He says you’re stalking him, and that’s exactly what you’re doing.’ He takes another sip of coffee, puts it down and leans forward. ‘Unless I’m missing something here, it looks like you want to end up in jail. Is that it?’
I shrug as if I don’t care, but the truth is I don’t want to end up in jail. If I wanted that, I’d tell him all about Sidney Alderman and where they could find him.
‘So what is it about him that makes you want to sit outside his church watching?’ he asks.
I try to maintain eye contact with him but say nothing.
‘Jesus, Tate, give yourself a chance. We’re through playing
games. Next time we bring you in here, you’re staying. You get my point?’
‘You’ve said it twice. I got it each time.’
‘Yet here you are.’
‘Look, I’ve got nothing else to say’
‘Well, the opposite goes for Father Julian. He has plenty to say about you.’
“I doubt that.’
‘Why’s that? You think anything you’ve said to him is covered
by priest-parishioner confidentiality? You’re right — to a point.
He says anything you’ve told him he can’t share. But what he can share is his concern. He said four weeks ago you went in there and asked him to help you find Bruce Alderman. We all know where
that led, right? Next thing we know Bruce Alderman shows up in your office dead.’
‘Look, Landry, he didn’t show up dead, okay? It’s not like he
fucking shot himself before walking into my office.’
‘The following day you go see Father Julian again, this time
asking for help in finding Sidney Alderman. It’s the same day you call me telling me you know who the missing girls are. Father
Julian said that if he knew where Sidney was, he’d tell him to stay clear of you. Why do you think he’d say that?’
I look down at my thumb and the deep scarring from the bite
that Sidney Alderman took. Sometimes it still hurts.
‘You think Father Julian is guilty of something?’ he adds.
‘What would he be guilty of?’ I ask.
“I don’t know. You tell me. You think he killed those girls?’
‘This is bullshit,’ I say.
‘He knows something about you, something he wouldn’t tell
me. But I’m figuring it out,’ he says, and he runs his hand across the cover of the folder he brought into the room with him. The folder is thick, and the pages between its covers could be blank for all I know, though Landry wants me to believe they’re full of circumstantial facts that any moment are going to line up in the right order for him to arrest me for something.
I say nothing.
Landry fills in the silence. ‘See, it’s just a matter of connecting the dots. Yours are easy, because it’s a simple timeline. The last two years, Tate, you’ve had a lot happen. The accident with your family I sympathise with you — nobody should lose what you’ve lost.’
I still say nothing. I don’t want to help Landry get to wherever he is leading.
‘What do you think ever happened to Quentin James?’ he
asks.
“I don’t know’
‘You seem calm about that, Tate. Me, I’d be angry as hell. I
don’t think I’d have resigned myself to the fact that he got away.
I’d be jumping up and down and phoning the police and phoning
the media and I’d be out there looking for him. I’d be annoying the hell out of everyone — asking questions, putting pressure on anybody I could to make finding Quentin James a priority. But
not you.’
‘Maybe he’ll show up one day and justice can be served.’
‘If it hasn’t been already. It’s hard to go missing for that long, especially in this country. Then a month ago things change again.
People die. They go missing. And what happens? You start
drinking. You start showing up at the church drunk. You harass Father Julian. You hound him with questions. A week ago he
takes a protection order against you and you just ignore it. Want to know what I think?’
“Not unless you’re going to charge me with something.
Otherwise, I’m leaving.’
I stand up. The interrogation room sways a little. I reach down and grab the desk.
‘Sit back down, Tate, before you pass out.’
‘Charge me or I’m getting a lawyer.’
‘You violated a protection order. That means we can charge
you.’
‘Then do it. You think I care?’
‘You know, I don’t really think you do. And that’s the problem.’
Landry gets up. He picks up the folder and his coffee, and he
walks to the door. He juggles them so he can manage the handle.
‘I can see I’m wasting my time here. But let me warn you, don’t go back to the church. You go anywhere near Father Julian and
I’m going to have you arrested. There’s going to be no more of this bullshit, right? No more of us feeling bad at the shit you’ve had to go through; no more of the people here feeling sorry for you and searching inside themselves to still care. You’re falling apart, and any loyalty you built up here is rapidly dissipating. You want to stay out of jail? Then you need to take a good long hard look at yourself and figure out what’s wrong. You get me?’