Page 11 of Psychopath

They stared at each other.

Then Zane turned and looked pointedly at the clock.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Quinn said. He wasn’t interrupted, he wasn’t told not to worry, it was fine. Zane held his gaze, and he felt compelled to explain himself in full. “There was a broken-down tractor on the road.”

Zane tilted his head. “Couldn’t you have driven around it?”

“Single track, ditches either side. I had to reverse back almost a mile to get to a junction.”

He slid into his chair and arranged his papers on the desk.

“That can’t have helped…” Zane murmured.

Quinn followed Zane’s gaze and looked at his watch. It was ten minutes behind the clock on the wall. He sighed and fiddled with the dial until it matched.

“I keep meaning to fix it.”

“Why haven’t you?” Zane asked.

“I push it to the back of my mind. It needs a professional to fix it, but I can’t be bothered driving into town—”

“You could get a different one? Surely that would be easier. Even if it’s temporary until you can be bothered.”

Quinn glanced down at the watch and shrugged. “I guess it would.”

He pressed record on the device in the centre of the table, then laid his hands flat on either side of it as he eyed Zane. “I’m going to ask you some questions. If there’s any you don’t want to answer, don’t. If there’s a topic you don’t wish to discuss further, just say so. Everything said in this room stays between you and me.”

“You and me,” Zane repeated slowly.

“I’m interested in your child—”

“Yeah, childhood, family, I know. Mackie ruined the surprise. Couldn’t wait to tell me he spoke to you first when he passed my cell.”

“He’s participant number one.”

“He told me.” Zane hummed. “And I’m the last participant, but I’d rather be last than first.”

Quinn lifted his eyebrow, and Zane continued.

“I’d rather be someone’s last kiss than their first. I would rather be the last to fuck someone than the first.”

Quinn raised his hand. “Inappropriate…”

“It wasn’t inappropriate. I didn’t mention you in a sexual way. I was just giving examples of why being first isn’t always best. Besides, he’s number one at the moment, but I’m certain I can change that. Just give it time.”

Quinn’s skin crawled, but he ignored the sensation, scanning the sheet of questions in front of him. “Let’s focus on today’s questions.”

Zane leaned back in his chair and tugged out a folded photograph from his jeans. He pressed it on the table and attempted to flatten the deep wrinkles.

“This is me and my old man.”

Quinn gestured to the photo. “Can I see?”

Zane nodded and slid the picture across the table. Quinn could see the similarity of father and son, particularly the eyes. Not the colour, but the shape, and the brow. Zane looked younger, his hair longer and flicked out at the ends. He grinned, and his dad, with his hand gripping Zane’s shoulder, grinned back.

“How old are you here?”

“Twenty-one.”

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