Slow Burn by Conrad Jones Read Free Book Online

questions,” Detective Sergeant Aspel added. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

     “Really, Detective?” Mrs Bernstein asked concerned. “He`s only just woke up, surely it can wait a few days.”

      “I`m sorry, Mrs Bernstein, but the trail is going cold. This was a very serious assault. We need to ask Richard some important questions,” Wallace nodded as he spoke, to reinforce the point. He had gaunt features, sunken cheeks and deep-set eyes, which gave him an intense look. Richard thought he looked scary.

     “Five minutes, and no more,” she said reluctantly.

     The detectives shuffled uncomfortably to the bedside. Aspel was the senior officer. He was older than his partner was by twenty years, and he wore his grey hair in a military crew cut. His nose was bulbous and red, the effect of years of whiskey drinking. He removed his leather bomber-jacket and pulled up a plastic chair. It made a loud scraping noise, attracting the attention of the matron. She gave them a scathing look, and pointed to a sign on the wall. `Four visitors to a bed`.

      “I`ll take Sarah to the canteen for a coffee,” David offered.

      “I want to stay here and listen to the interrogation,” Sarah protested. Her father glared at her, his face was furious. “Okay, I get the message.” Richard tried to laugh again as his brother and sister left the bedside.

     “Later, Einstein,” David said.

     “Later,” Richard tried to sound normal, but he actually sounded like he had a mouth full of marbles.

     “What can you tell us about the assault?” Wallace got the ball rolling, frustrated by the family`s concerns. They`d been waiting a week to talk to Richard. Now he was awake they needed to ask him what he remembered.

      “Not much. I remember being tripped up, and a knife, that`s all,” Richard was hesitant as he spoke. He remembered everything but he hadn’t decided whether he wanted to reveal who his attackers were. His brother David could handle himself, but Sarah was young and vulnerable. Part of his rational was to protect his siblings, but deep inside, the real reason that he could not tell was his own white-hot fear of retaliation if he grassed. What would they do to him next?

      “A witness recognised a school tie worn by one of your attackers. He identified it as your school, Richard,” Wallace pushed. He could spot a liar at a hundred yards, and the boy was lying. “He also said that they were Asian boys.”

     “I don’t remember,” Richard mumbled. “I`m thirsty, Mum. Could I have a drink please?”

     His mother tutted and reached for the plastic beaker that was next to his bed, knocking over several greeting cards as she did so.

     “He`s in no condition to be interviewed,” she fussed. Richard slurped the water and swallowed hard before taking another sip. The liquid cooled his thirst, but he was craving a can of coke. His body was missing the sugar.

     “We know that you`re frightened, it`s only natural. We can protect you, but you have to tell us who did this to you,” Aspel tried with a softer tone of voice.

     “I can`t remember anything.”

     “Do you know any of the Asian boys at your school?”

      “No, I think I`m getting a headache.”

     “Tell me about the knife,” Wallace jumped in.

     “What do you mean?”

     “The doctor said that you remembered a knife. Was it a flick-knife? A sheath knife, maybe a kitchen knife like your mum would use? What colour was it?” Wallace tried to pressurise information from him. He had volunteered that he remembered seeing a knife, so he decided to use it as a lever into the truth

     “I don’t remember,” Richard closed his eyes and a stinging tear ran down his swollen cheek.

     “You asked the doctor if he used a knife, who was he?”

     “I don’t remember.”

    “Was he Asian, Richard, Indian, Pakistani, Black?”

    “I don’t remember,” his lips quivered and Richard Bernstein began to sob openly. He was in