Page 55 of Fletch

I stand in the doorway, watching the officers tip the room upside down. Of course, there’s nothing apart from a blade under the mattress. I hold out an evidence bag for it to be placed inside, then I show it to Nyx and Fletch. “Who does this belong to?”

“Really?” mutters Fletch, arching a brow. “You’re gonna arrest me for having a blade under my bed?”

I give a smile. “Yep.” I turn to another officer. “Take him out to the van.”

Thirteen

Fletch

Itap my fingers impatiently on the thin, rubber mattress. I hate the cells, and I’ve been sitting in this fucker for the last eight hours. When the lock in the door finally clanks, I stand, ready to give them a piece of my mind. I decide against it when Gem leans against the door frame.

“You ready for that interview?”

“Are you shitting me?” I snap. “It wasn’t even out in public. What are you doing me for?”

“It’s illegal to own a zombie knife in the UK.”

“Okay, it’s not mine.”

“Nice try. Let’s go,” she says, smirking and putting the cuffs back on me.

I follow her into an interview room. “Yah know, it’s illegal to fuck the man you have under surveillance.”

“I haven’t put you under surveillance,” she retorts as we sit down. “You waivered your right to having a solicitor present, is that correct?”

“Cos I haven’t done anything.”

She presses the record button on the tape and opens her note pad. “This evening, a knife was found under your mattress,” she begins. “Does that knife belong to you?”

“No comment.”

“Have you seen the knife before?”

“No comment.”

“Has that knife been involved in any illegal activity?”

I roll my eyes. “No comment.”

She sighs, leaning forward and resting her arms on the desk. “Listen, it’s in your best interests to tell me if that knife has been involved in anything. We’re going to run tests on it.”

“No fucking comment,” I say more clearly this time.

“It was found in your room. Did you know it’s illegal to own a zombie knife?”

“No comment.”

“Fine. Interview terminated at,” she checks her watch, “seven-thirty-five.” She turns the recording device off. “I’ll take you back to your cell.”

“This is stupid,” I mutter, pushing to stand. “You’re hurt, I get it, but all this is bullshit.”

She grabs my cuffs roughly and shoves me towards the door. “Now, why would I be hurt?”

“You know why. But it was for the best. It was never gonna work long-term between us.”

“Stop talking,” she snaps, pulling the door open.

“You wouldn’t want your colleagues to find out the truth, right?” I ask, sniggering.

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