Chapter 25 Chapter Twenty-Four

In Derek Hardy's view, after Jackson left, the bar seemed to have entered a period of calm.The two detectives left, and Jones and Bill moved to an empty table, drank beer for coffee, and ordered two more sandwiches.They were friendly with the bar owner and staff but steadfastly refused to say why they were staying and not leaving.After half an hour, Derek decided that they had put work aside for a good night, like the other customers.He decided to go see Acland. In order to avoid waking Aklan, he quietly opened the door and looked towards the bed, but the lit desk lamp showed that there was no one on the bed.Derek's response was to walk into the room and look around.His stomach convulsed suddenly and uncomfortably when he saw Acklan, fully dressed, standing in the shadows behind the door.

"My God! You gave me a big jump! Are you all right, man?" "What do you want to do?" Derek spread his hands to demonstrate his peaceful intentions, "Just doing what Jackson told me to do... make sure you're still breathing." He started to back away, "Sorry to interrupt. I was afraid you were asleep and didn't want to Make a noise." "The police are with you?" Derek shook his head, "There are two more downstairs." "I thought you were them." "I guessed it. Are you sure you're all right?" "yes."

"Don't be careful," Derek said bluntly, "children, you should follow the doctor's orders and lie on the bed. Jackson said that she will pick you up tomorrow morning..." He saw the young man's shoulders relax slightly, " Want me to get you something to eat or drink?" "No, thank you, sir, everything is fine." Perhaps it was this polite "sir" and the apparent contradiction between Ackland's words and his pale face, or perhaps, like Willis, Derek saw that this lieutenant was really young, regardless For some reason, he stretched out his fatherly hand. "Come on," he took Aklan's arm affectionately, "you need to lie down."

There was a knock at the door behind him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Hardy," said Jones. "I think you'll find the Lieutenant prefers to go by himself." He entered the room, looked at Acklan's stiff posture, "I say Isn't that right, Charles?" "Yes." He shook off Derek's hand and retreated to the corner. Jones nodded happily to the bar owner, "Your bar manager allowed us to come up with you." He pointed to Bill at the door, "We want to speak to you briefly before we leave." "about what?"

"We'll find out in a moment." He turned his kind eyes to the lieutenant. "We haven't realized you're out of bed, Charles. If you spare us a few minutes, we've got two for you too." question. Is this okay?" Inspector Bill sees that Ackland responds exactly as the sheriff predicted.Jones had just predicted, when discussing with Bill downstairs: "He'll agree, there's something in his character...a tough never-backed-out determination...that'll make him stand up to us, No matter how ill he feels." "What if he's really very ill?" retorted Bill. "Anything he says will be dismissed as unreliable, and the Christian Police Association will judge us for extortion and deny the evidence."

"This is only possible if the facts show that Charles is guilty and he refuses to retell it under taped conditions." "Why the gamble? Why inappropriately wait until tomorrow morning to ask him?" "Because we're more likely to get the truth from him tonight." "But this process is detrimental to the proceedings," Bill sharply criticized, "at least consider the rest of the team before you act recklessly. All of us have worked very hard on this investigation, if you end up Get fucked up and no one will thank you." "Including you?"

"Especially me," the Inspector emphasized emphatically, "I will even put today's events on record. I object to the questioning of Charles tonight...and I warn you that if you insist on doing so, I will advise the lieutenant to keep silence." Jones rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "You should be a lawyer, Nick. You're even more rule-abiding than Pearson. Out of interest, I wonder, what confession of guilt do you reckon Charles will make? Obstructing the safe driving of vehicles on His Majesty's highway?" "I don't play guessing games, Brian. I've told you what I think."

Jones sighed impatiently, "But, we've been doing this for months...guessing...and you're an expert at it, my friend. How many new ideas have you told me tonight, uh ?Ben Russell could be the ginger-haired guy who came here with Walter...The cheap perfume could be the imagination of Walter's daughter...The prostitute could be gay...Charles Ackland could be because of a Arguing with Jock over the duffel bag and pushing him into the river," he paused, "what does that bag have to do with all of this?" Bill followed Jones into the room, and standing by the lieutenant's bed, Derek Hardy turned uneasy, and said to them, "I'm not sure you should do that, as you can see, the kid's condition Bad."

"It's up to Charles," Jones murmured, "if he doesn't feel comfortable enough to talk to us yet, he just needs to say so." He sat down in a hard-backed chair, as if to prove his Knows Acland's thoughts better than Derek. Bill studied the young man's face, and Ackland, despite his pallor, showed grim determination to accept the sheriff's challenge. "You are under no obligation to talk to us now, Lieutenant," he said firmly. "You can come to the police station tomorrow if you like. In fact, that is what I propose. I agree with Mr. Hardy, you see Not feeling well enough to answer questions."

"I'm fine. I'd rather talk now." "At least put him in bed," Derek protested. "Dr. Jackson said he should stay in bed." "Would you like to lie down, Charles?" asked the Sheriff. "No need to." "I don't think you need it either." He smiled, "but considering the concerns of these gentlemen, let me ask again, are you willing to answer a few questions? This is purely for background information. I estimate about ten minutes. Acceptable ?" "Can." Jones glanced at the barkeeper. "Thank you, Mr. Hardy. We'll start here. Would you mind closing the door behind you?" He waited until the sound of Derek's footsteps disappeared down the corridor. "You're not being asked to stand at attention, Lieutenant," he said. "This isn't a parade."

"If I don't stand up, you will underestimate me." Jones looked at him with interest, "Of course, when we do surveys, what we often see is that people are nervous. Is there nothing that makes you feel guilty, Charles? If so , you are such a rare man." "Nothing is about you." "Really?" Jones crossed his legs, took out a notebook from his pocket, and pretended to check the notes. "So, why does your name keep appearing in this survey? Someone told us that you visited this place last year." Bar several times. Is that so?" "yes." "You're always sitting by yourself, giving cold eyes to anyone who tries to strike up a conversation with you." There was a hint of judgment in the sheriff's tone, "It shows that you were already a social person before you went to Iraq. " "Whatever you want." "So, I'm really confused. Why would Dr. Campbell want us to believe that it's disfigurement that keeps you from other people?" "She didn't know. She met me after I had surgery." "She said your commanding officer said you were a friendly and outgoing person before the accident." "He's a good guy. I get along well with him." Akram gave up his rigid posture, propped his palms on the wall, and supported his body. "Besides, the attack on my cutlass was not an accident, Sheriff. That It was a targeted explosion that killed two of my armored men." "My apologies," Jones said quickly, "I did not mean to downplay the significance of that accident...or your role in it. To call it an accident is to imply that two brave lives were wasted through negligence." It's ruined." He met the lieutenant's gaze, "And, it must be something to feel guilty about." Aklan stared at him, "You don't even know what it means to be brave." "Then you tell me." But Akram shook his head. "Is it to prove that you have more guts than the people around you? That's why you sent Dr. Jackson off the road tonight? To see what she's made of?" There was an angry gleam in Ackland's good eyes—was it an admission that Jones was right? —"Did she tell you so?" Jones ignored his question, "Why do you need to test her? What did she do to piss you off?" "Talking too much." "about what?" "Sex." Jones raised his eyebrows, "With whom?" "Not with one particular person. She told me the types she liked and the types she didn't like." "So this is a discussion about homosexuality?" "I don't think that's a discussion." "speech?" "almost." Jones couldn't believe it—he couldn't imagine Jackson spouting a long monologue about a gay relationship, especially to someone as fastidious and critical as Ackland—but he didn't press on with the issue. "When Dr. Jackson brought you here, did she know you'd been in this bar before?" "I don't think so. I haven't mentioned it to her." "Have you ever met a man named Harry Peel here? Taxi driver...5ft 10in tall...under 60 years old...black curly hair...London accent. Remember?" Aklan shook his head, "I came here to escape from some things, not to chat with anyone." Jones notes "running away from something," but lets go of the phrase for now. "That won't stop Harry from approaching you," he said, "he's a regular here. Everyone thinks he's friendly and likes to talk to anyone casually. He used to send out business cards for a taxi service. You sure don't remember him ?" Something flickered on Ackram's face—recognized? —but he shook his head slowly again. "He used to sit at the end of the bar with two other older men and only drank orange juice because of the nature of his job." "I vaguely remember some older men - I think they're always there - but I don't remember anyone in particular." Jones stared at him closely. "Do you remember seeing one of them outside the bar?" "No." "One of them was the guy at the bank... Walter Tardin. Are you sure you didn't recognize him when he poked you in the back?" "No." Akram looked genuinely confused, frowning at the Sheriff. "I thought he was a complete stranger." "Either you're really bad at recognizing faces, or you're sitting at a bar with too much going on in your head." "It was a long time ago," Ackland said. "I've been here maybe four or five times in June or July of last year. A lot has happened since then." Jones nodded. "You said you wanted to get away from something, what?" The lieutenant did not answer immediately.He licked his lips with his tongue, feeling the wound on his right side, "We're going to Oman in August for a month of desert training. To organize something like this, the logistics and stuff is giving me a headache. There's someone who can get away The space works great." He's a bad liar, Jones thought, "Your girlfriend won't give you space?" "She wasn't happy for me to go to Oman." Jones nodded. "So it's Miss Morley, and not logistics that's giving you headaches?" He paused. "Is that why you're always alone?" Akram didn't answer. "Harry Peel was murdered on or about September 9, 2006. Do you remember you were in London that weekend, Charles?" The lieutenant straightened his legs and stood against the wall.From Bill's point of view, Acland was on the verge of breaking down, but he seemed determined to prove his tenacity in front of the sheriff, which aroused Bill's curiosity.He secretly thought it was out of respect, but Bill couldn't tell whether it was out of respect for Jones or for the power he wielded as a policeman.Nor was he sure that Ackland really understood the question, for he was still frowning and looking at Jones in bewilderment as when he had said he didn't know Walter Tartin. "Does your military keep records of you going out on weekends?" Jones asked. Aklan nodded, "But I can tell you myself. I was in London that weekend. I returned to London from Oman three days ago, on September 6." "So you came back to see Jane after a month's absence?" "yes." "Is she happy to see you?" silence. Jones glanced at another date in his notebook. "What about September 23?" He looked up. "Are you in London too? If the hint helps jog your memory, it was the weekend before you left for Iraq. " Both Jones and Bill expected him to ask why that date was important, but instead he nodded again, "I was at Jane's apartment that Saturday. I returned to base in the evening." "When did you arrive at the apartment?" "noon." "How long have you been there?" "Two hours." "Where did you go after that? If you didn't return to the base until evening, you must have been somewhere else." "Imperial War Museum." Jones had a suspicious expression on his face, "It was for preparing for war, did the army recommend you to watch it?" "It's what I want to see." "What exhibitions have you seen?" "'The Holocaust' . . . a crime movie against humanity." "Heavy stuff," Jones murmurs, "nowhere is there a better way to learn about the dark side of human nature than a movie about the brutality of war. So why do you need to remind yourself that what soldiers do isn't always honorable?" Yes, Charles?" He paused briefly, "What happened between you and Miss Morley that day?" "We decided to go our separate ways." Jones flipped open his notebook and tapped his thumb on a passage, "Before or after you raped her?" The question was abrupt enough that it was impossible for Acland to remain silent. He stared at the sheriff, his hands visibly trembling against the wall, "Is that why you're here? Is that what these questions are about?" "Rape is a serious crime, Charles ... especially when the victim is a woman and the man has perverted tastes." Bill became uneasy. "You should take my advice, Lieutenant. If you are sensible, you can refuse to answer any questions without the presence of a lawyer." Akram gave him a bewildered look, as if he had forgotten that there were other people in the room. "How can a lawyer help me? No matter what I say, you will believe Jane." "Why assume that?" Jones asked. "The police are always on the woman's side." The sheriff shook his head, "Statistics prove the opposite. Only one-third of people will bring this kind of thing to court, and the other two-thirds will withdraw during the police investigation stage. For a woman, it takes Proving rape is very difficult... especially months after it happened." He looked at Ackland thoughtfully, "unless, of course, the man confesses."