“Lawyer,” he said, “phone call.”
“And you’re aware that a search warrant has been executed on your home, your family home, looking for evidence of this and further crimes?”
Twomey pursed his lips, drew in a deep breath and let it out noisily through his nose. Then he crossed his legs at the ankle and started studying his shoes.
“You may want to consider what forensic science can learn from even the most minute items,” said Wall.
“My nute?” Twomey asked.
“Small,” said Wall. “Tiny.”
Wall exchanged a glance with Minogue.
“These drug charges are a start,” he said to Twomey then. “We’ll move on to child exploitation. Do you know what the age of consent is?”
“Lawyer,” said Twomey and sighed, “phone call.”
Minogue shifted in his seat. Wall took the hint and he sat back. Minogue let the quiet last. Twomey looked up after a count of twelve.
“So can I go now?”
“You can stop the performance,” said Minogue, “if that’s what you mean.” “Good cop, bad cop? I get it.” “You got your caution when you were arrested,” Minogue said. “Fine and well if you want to play the sound citizen. You’ll get your counsel. But as for ‘my phone call’ you’ll only get that on the telly.”
“I can sue you for this.”
“Sue all you like. You have that on tape too. You’ll have plenty of time on your hands to start your career as a hob lawyer.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Me,” Minogue said. “I’m going to talk some more. You can listen or not.”
“I don’t need to be here to listen to you talking. So let me go.”
“You’re under arrest, Mr. Twomey.”
“If I’m under arrest I want a phone call. Not to listen to you talk, or threaten me.”
“What I’m giving you is information. Your paranoia’s your own business.”
“You have nothing, you’re just trying to-”
“-First thing is, we’re not in a play here. Nobody’s acting here, except you. Nobody’s trying to cod you, or put one over on you.”
“Will Santy Claus be coming soon? With toys…?”
“We have plenty to do instead of listening to you, whinging about your rights. My job here is — was for many years — murder investigations. That’s why I’m here. I think you need to know that.”
Minogue mentally checked off a few signals from Twomey: the gaze stayed up to a corner of the ceiling, the forced attempt to stillness, the swallow.
“I’m assuming that you’re listening and understanding. Will Detective Wall confirm that?”
Wall sat up a little and turned toward one of the microphones.
“Mr. Twomey is alert and can hear my colleagues’ words.”
“You need to know that this is about you going to jail for drug offences and exploitation of a minor. There won’t be bail. Your pals are going to drop you like lightning. You’re going to get slagged something fierce for going out with a fourteen-year-old child. There are people who really despise that to the point they’d want to show you in no uncertain terms. You might meet these people. You might hope and pray that the likes of me are there to protect you.”
“Child,” muttered Twomey, “what do you know about ‘child’? Christ.”
“Who cares what I know? What does the law say? We interviewed your girlfriend today. Two hours ago.”
“And you believe what she says?”
“Let the court decide. To me, it’s evidence.”
“Not if you treated her like you’re treating me. Refusing me my rights here. That’d be thrown out.”
“Well now,” said Minogue and sat back, “you’re just full of bad ideas here.”
“It’s the company I’m keeping,” said Twomey, with a sniff.
“You’re determined to be your own worst enemy with your lawyer. I’ll let you in on a few details then.”
“Very big of you. But what’s this story got to do with me? Nothing, that’s what. Nothing. No thing.”
Minogue waited a few moments.
“This girl was in the company of her mother when she was interviewed. Being as you’re one for contesting the law, you might already know how it works, a minor giving an interview through the care and consent of her parent or guardian. Have you come across that in your law studies?”
“That’s bullshit. You’re making it up.”
“You hope I am. But I doubt you’re thick enough to believe your own propaganda here.”
“Charge me. Let’s see who’s bullshitting now. Charge me, or let me go.”
Minogue pushed his mug to the side of the table and he slid his clipboard near. He didn’t look at Twomey when he spoke.
“You were arrested on a charge of possession of illegal drugs, cannabis resin to be correct. I’m expecting the search would yield further evidence to that crime and other charges. You are also being investigated for child exploitation. You are being the least cooperative when you should be the most. We haven’t even gotten to the one that will surely have you really roaring and shouting for your counsel. Small blame to you, I’ll be thinking too, because that’s what I would be doing too. Yes, Mr. Twomey, there’ll be wigs on the green shortly.”
“Wigs on the green? My granny used to say that.”
“This is the end of my peroration, you’ll be glad to know. After these few words you’ll be getting your phone call and your list of Legal Aid counsel. We are shortly going to charge you with murder.”
“You’re mad,” said Twomey. “Totally off-the-wall, raving bonkers.”
“You’re not alone in your predicament,” said Minogue.
“What does that mean? I’m not alone?”
“You know who. He was there that night too. He’s in the same boat.”
“What? This is just absolutely ridiculous, stupid. I don’t believe this. I mean, you two are completely full of- Why are you doing this?”
Wall stood up slowly.
“Take a while to think things over,” said Minogue. “Let me go downstairs and get that list of counsel. Then the system takes over.”
“Wait ’til the papers hear about this,” Twomey said. “The television, everything. This is crazy, unbelievable.”
“Was it worth it?” Wall asked.
Twomey glared at him.
“Like what did he have on him? Twenty Euro maybe? Thirty?”
Twomey said something under his breath, shook his head, and turned away.
“Inspector Minogue is leaving the room.”
Minogue held the door for the Guard.
“Garda O Keefe entering,” he heard Wall say in the room behind him. “Interview concluded at 4:17 p.m. Garda O Keefe remaining in the room.”
Chapter 25
Fanning caught the 11A on O Connell Street Reflexively, he stayed on the lower level of the bus, and headed down the aisle toward the back seats. Sitting down, he had the sensation that he was actually falling in upon himself, even collapsing. It was as though his frame had been unhooked and he was now tumbling into a collection of limbs and aching joints. The ache in his neck and his shoulders was like a big bruise.
