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Chapter eight

The Interview

What Mark saw in the hospital room frightened him at first. Dianne was in the bed, holding Ricky and kissing his head. He was moving and making strange noises. His eyes were open, then shut. ‘It’s okay, baby,’ said Dianne again and again. ‘It’s okay. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s here.’

Greenway stood close by. A nurse was on the other side of the bed. No one noticed Mark as he came in. Reggie was waiting outside. It was almost twelve and clearly nobody was thinking of the meeting with the FBI.

Ricky opened his eyes again and seemed to notice his mother. She kissed him again and again, and smiled through her tears.

‘He woke up about two hours ago,’ the doctor explained. ‘But he’s not talking yet.’

Mark was glad about that. He didn’t want Ricky to start talking about Clifford. Not yet.

‘Is he going to be okay?’ he asked.

‘I think so,’ said the doctor. ‘But it’ll take time. Where’s the rest of your family? Your mother needs help.’

‘There’s only us,’ said Mark. ‘What about the FBI?’

‘She can’t talk to them now,’ said Greenway. ‘But they’re waiting for you. They said it’s serious.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Mark. ‘I’m ready for them. I’ve got us a lawyer.’

‘A lawyer?’ said Greenway, surprised. ‘How’s that?’

‘I found her this morning,’ said Mark proudly. ‘Don’t worry. You take care of Ricky and Mom, and me and the lawyer’ll take care of the FBI.’

Reggie found an empty room. They were ten minutes late for the meeting, but she wanted to do something first.

‘Pull up your shirt,’ she said quickly.

She opened her bag and took out a small black recorder. She checked the recorder and tied it to Mark’s waist. Mark pulled down his shirt.

‘Perfect,’ said Reggie. ‘Let’s go down.’

The meeting was on the second floor, in room 28. Reggie checked the recorder again and turned it on. ‘Now go,’ she said. ‘I’ll wait out here. Just remember what I told you.’

Mark took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

‘Come in,’ someone said. He stepped inside and closed the door. Three men faced him. They were not smiling.

‘You must be Mark,’ said one. ‘Where’s your mother?’

‘Who are you?’ said Mark.

Trumann and McThune introduced themselves. Foltrigg stayed silent. ‘Have a seat, Mark,’ said Trumann.

‘Well Mark, we really wanted to see your mother too.’

‘She’s with my brother,’ said Mark. ‘She can’t come today. Maybe this can wait until she can come?’

‘No Mark, we really need to talk now. Let’s talk a few minutes just us and you. Are you nervous?’

‘A little,’ said Mark. What do you want?’

‘We want to ask you some questions about yesterday.’

‘Do I need a lawyer?’

The detectives looked at each other in surprise. ‘Of course not. It’s just a few questions, that’s all.’

‘I already talked to a cop,’ said Mark. ‘Last night.’

‘We’re not cops,’ said McThune. ‘We’re FBI.’

‘That’s why I’m nervous. Maybe I do need a lawyer.’

‘What for?’

‘To protect my rights.’

The men smiled at each other. ‘You’ve been watching too much TV, kid,’ said McThune. ‘You don’t need a lawyer.’

‘Well, can’t we wait until my mother can be here?’

They smiled again. ‘Not really, Mark. We can wait if we have to, but you’re a clever kid and we’re in a hurry. We just have a few questions for you.’

‘Okay,’ said Mark. ‘If I have to.’

‘Right. First, was Jerome Clifford already dead when you and Ricky found the car yesterday?’

‘Do I have to answer the question?’

‘Yes. We need to know the truth, Mark.’

‘What happens if I don’t answer?’

‘Oh, lots of things. We could take you down to our office and ask some really hard questions.’

‘Could my mother get into trouble?’

‘Maybe.’

‘What kind of trouble?’

Now the men began to look nervous. They knew they shouldn’t talk to children without first talking to their parents. But they kept trying.

‘Mark, if a person knows about a crime and doesn’t tell the police or the FBI they might be punished. You know, go to prison, or something like that.’

‘So if I don’t answer your questions, me and Mom might go to prison?’

The men looked at each other again. ‘Why don’t you want to answer the question, Mark? Are you hiding something?’

‘I’m just afraid,’ said Mark. ‘I’m just eleven years old and you’re the FBI, and my Mom’s not here.’

Trumann sat forward and looked serious. ‘Mark, was Jerome Clifford already dead when you and Ricky found him?’

‘I need to go to the bathroom,’ said Mark, and got up.

‘Okay Mark, take five minutes. We’ll wait.’

Mark left the room and closed the door behind him.

The men waited patiently. They knew Mark would talk. But when the door opened again it wasn’t Mark. They stood up in surprise.

‘Keep your seats,’ said the lady who walked in.

‘Who are you?’ one asked rudely. ‘We’re in a meeting.’

‘I’m Reggie Love,’ she said. ‘I’m Mark Sway’s lawyer.’

The men looked shocked, and sat down again.

‘Now,’ said Reggie. ‘Did you try to talk to my client when his mother wasn’t with him?’

‘No,’ said Trumann.

‘He tells me you did.’

‘He came here alone,’ said McThune quickly. ‘We were just having a friendly talk while we waited for her.’

‘Did you tell Mark he should talk to a lawyer?’

‘We maybe joked about that,’ said McThune.

‘Mark didn’t ask you if he needed a lawyer?’

They shook their heads.

‘Did you advise him of his rights?’

‘Of course not. He’s not a criminal. He’s just a kid.’

Reggie slowly opened her bag and took out the black recorder. ‘It’s all here, boys,’ she said. ‘Do you want to hear it? You tried to question him without his mother present. You told him he didn’t need a lawyer. You didn’t tell him his rights, and you said he might go to prison.’

The room was silent.

‘Well, boys, from now on I want the truth from you,’ she said. ‘Now tell me what you want to know from my client.’

They told her.

‘I see,’ said Reggie. ‘You boys really need the body don’t you, and you think Mark can help. Well, I’ll talk to him some more and I’ll meet you in my office around three.’

‘Thank you, Ms Love,’ said McThune politely.

‘It’s Reggie,’ said Reggie. ‘Just call me Reggie.’