“No, Neil – I just don’t like it, that’s all.”
“You’d like it with me. We could go slowly… I’d take good care of you.” Neil nibbled on his earlobe.
“I said no.” He twisted away from Neil’s grasp and landed on the floor. Then he crawled between Neil’s legs and gave him such a great blowjob that his flatmate soon stopped arguing.
Chapter Seven
OCTOBER 2095
Josiah
“That little shit!” Reed raged when Josiah returned to the viewing room. “I can’t believe he tried to turn it back on you like that. He has no idea who he’s dealing with!”
“Actually, I think it’s all too clear that he does,” Josiah said dryly.
“Do you want me to go in there now and charge him?”
“No. I don’t think we have enough evidence to present a watertight case, and I’m by no means convinced he did it,” Josiah replied, handing Dacre’s holopad back to Reed.
“Oh, come on! He’s as guilty as they come. You had him spot on in there – he’s a manipulative liar who thought he could talk his way out of this and into his freedom!”
“Perhaps, but it’s all circumstantial so far. I want Dacre’s credit records, the solicitor who drew up and witnessed the will, and a full transcript and audio recording of the trial that led to Lytton’s sentence of servitude. Get to work, Reed; you’ve got a busy night ahead.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll call Sarah and let her know I won’t be home tonight.” Reed gave a resigned sigh. “What do you want me to do with him?” he asked, gesturing through the window to Alexander.
“Put him in a detention suite. He can think about it overnight; let’s see if he’s got any more to say tomorrow.”
“He won’t. I’ve seen his kind before.”
“His kind?”
“Psychopath. No conscience. He didn’t even flinch when you threw all that stuff from his past at him. He’ll get more sleep than I will tonight.”
“Hmm. I’ve met psychopaths before; I don’t think he’s one.”
“Then what is he?”
Josiah glanced through the window, still feeling uneasy about how Alexander had seemed like a completely different person a few moments earlier.
“I have no idea, and I think that’s precisely the way he wants it. The question is – why?” Josiah walked briskly towards the door. “Right, I’m going home. I need some quiet time to go through all the data you’ve gathered so far – call me if you find anything urgent.”
He was almost at the door when Reed spoke again. “Sir, what he said about Peter… I’m sorry.”
His jaw tightening, he turned back. “It’s fine. I’m not made of glass, Reed. I don’t break because someone mentions my dead husband.”
“Yeah, I know.” Reed’s face twisted into something halfway between a grin and a grimace. “Just… you don’t talk about it, so we’re never sure, and… well, for him to say that, today of all days…”
Josiah frowned. “What do you think I do on this day every year? Sob into my tea? Say prayers over Peter’s ashes?”
Reed looked profoundly uncomfortable. “Uh… well, I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. All I know is you always book the day off and tell the boss you’re not to be disturbed. It’s the only day when you’re off duty – I mean, you even work Christmas Day.”
“I wash his car,” Josiah said quietly.
“What?”
“That’s what I do on this day every year; I wash that stupid car Peter loved so much. I polish her until she shines, because I know he’d never forgive me if I let her rust away in the garage.”
“Oh. Right. Okay. I mean, not that I’ve been wondering or anything…”