“Charlie Clarke,” said the young man.
“And you have chosen not to have a solicitor present?”
“That’s correct.”
“Then we’ll begin. Were you present in Heaven nightclub on the night referenced?” asked Detective Butt.
“No comment,” said the young man. His voice was lower and less flighty than I remembered it being. Had he been putting on a more feminine act to see what I’d like? It seemed ironic that I’d ended up falling for the gruffest guy around.
“On the night in question, did you meet with the man in this photograph?” I could just about make out that it was a picture of myself being pushed across the table.
“No comment.”
“Did this man buy you a drink, and did you put any controlled substances into it?”
“No comment.”
“Have you ever met or worked with this man?” Detective Butt passed two pictures over the table, supposedly of the bearish man he’d been involved with.
“No comment.”
And so on it went. Every question answered with a shrug and a nonchalantno comment,like he hadn’t been part of a gang that had drugged me and left me for dead. I stared at the pixels on the screen and searched for one shred of remorse or sadness, but could find none.
“Before I present any further evidence, I would like you to reflect carefully on your previous answers. If you have any additional details you would like to furnish us with or to enter a plea, it may reduce your sentence. If you have been coerced by this man into this kind of behaviour, it would be better for you to speak now.”
“No. Comment.” Charlie crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
“Here he goes,” muttered the police officer to our side, surprising me with intonation and personality to his voice I would never have expected otherwise. He leaned toward the monitor and Owen and I did the same as if waiting for our favourite football team to score a goal.
“We have a witness, the man whose picture I presented you with, who is happy to testify against all three of you in court. To say he was at Heaven, that you spiked his drink and gained access to his finances and property. We have tests confirmingthat he had a very high amount of GHB in his system, possibly enough to overdose. ”
“Some junkie with a vendetta against anyone young and pretty enough to get some? Not exactly a reliable witness.” The young man had careened from complete nonchalance to spite, and I wondered why. Was he worried the gig was up? But if what he was saying was true and I wouldn’t be seen as reliable…
“It seems that the CCTV in the bar area of the club wasn’t working, but the bouncers did wear body-cams. You entered the club-” at this, DI Butt passed over the three pictures to Charlie, “-at 9pm. Your alleged associate entered at 9:27.”
“I’ve never seen those men in my life,” Charlie replied.
“So we’re not no commenting any more? Cool.” DI Butt seemed to have full control of the situation. The dynamic shift had been subtle, but Charlie was now on the back foot. I wondered if he was starting to sweat. “Your alleged accomplice left some hour later with the victim, claiming to bouncers he was going to get him a taxi. You left just three minutes later.”
“You can’t prove we were there together.”
“No. I can’t. But you said you’d never seen him in your life. Odd, given he left and entered within minutes of you. You might have even seen them at the taxi rank.”
“Well I didn’t so-“
“I’m not done.” The Detective Inspector’s voice was low and clear. “The problem with thieves and muggers? Greed. Pride…whatever the other deadly sins are. We found this-” he passed one small object in a plastic bag over to Charlie, one I recognised instantly as a credit card, “-in the pockets of your accomplice.”
“I told you, I haven’t seen that man before in my life!” Charlie was angry now, and he had made as if to stand before sitting down again and trying to create the cool mask of composure. Even on the little screen I could see that had become a struggle.
“And if we were to test it for fingerprints?”
“No-I mean, that older guy might have bought me a drink before he did whatever with him. I might have had his card in my hand.”
“Right. So your fingerprints are on a stolen credit card, found in the pocket of a man with whom you had absolutely no association but were in the club with?”
“That’s right, yeah.” Charlie sounded deflated.
“See, that might have been enough to take to the Crown Prosecution Service. We might have gotten a conviction, despite your insistence you had never met those men, and we might have taken you to jail for a relatively long time. But those are all maybes. I had no concrete evidence that you had ever met the other who had been involved with the theft. I had no proof it was a theft after all, beyond the credit card. But juries can be persuaded, and with the eyewitnesses we had I was relatively confident that they would be on our side. But I wasn’tsure.”
