I took it.
“You fancied her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But she wouldn’t give you any, would she?”
“No, sir.”
“So what did you do?”
“I took some anyway.”
“What did you do?”
“I took her in the cunt.”
“And?”
“I took her in the mouth.”
“And?”
“I took her up the arse.”
“Then what?”
“She wouldn’t shut up.”
“What did she say?”
“Said she was going to tell the police.”
“What did you do?”
“I strangled her.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I cut off her hair.”
“Why?”
“She was still looking at me.”
“Just like the other one?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Like what?”
“Like the other one.”
“You want to make a confession, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What do you want to make?”
“I want to make a confession.”
“Good boy.”
Detective Superintendent Noble stood up.
Then he left me alone.
Sometime later a policeman opened the door and took me down the yellow corridor to a room with a shower and a toilet.
The policeman gave me some soap and ran some hot water in the shower.
I stood in the warm shower and washed myself all over.
Then shit started falling down my legs again.
The policeman didn’t say anything.
He gave me another bar of soap and ran some more hot water.
I stood in the shower and washed myself all over again.
The policeman gave me a towel.
I dried myself.
Then the policeman gave me a pair of blue overalls.
I put them on.
Then the policeman took me back down the yellow corridor to a ten by six interrogation room, with four chairs and a table.
“Sit down.”
I did as I was told.
Then the policeman left me alone.
Sometime later the door opened and three big men in good suits came in: Detective Chief Superintendent Oldman, Detec tive Superintendent Noble, and the man with sandy hair.
They all sat down opposite me.
Detective Chief Superintendent Oldman sat back in his chair with his arms folded.
Detective Superintendent Noble placed two cardboard folders on the desk and began flicking through papers and big black and white photographs.
Sandy had a pad of A4 paper open on his knee.
“You want to make a confession, do you?” said Detective Chief Superintendent Oldman.
“Yes, sir.”
“Go on then.”
Silence.
I sat on the chair, listening to the humming of the lights.
“You fancied her, didn’t you?” said Detective Superintendent Noble, passing a photograph to his boss.
“Yes, sir.”
“What?”
“I fancied her.”
Sandy began writing.
Detective Chief Superintendent Oldman was looking at the photograph and smiling.
“Go on,” he said.
“She wouldn’t give me any.”
Detective Chief Superintendent Oldman looked up at me.
“So?” said Detective Superintendent Noble.
“I took some anyway.”
“What did you do?” asked Oldman.
“I took her in the cunt.”
“And?” said Noble, passing another photograph to Oldman.
“I took her in the mouth.”
“And?”
“I took her up the arse.”
“Then what happened?”
“She wouldn’t shut up.”
“What was she saying?”
“Said she was going to tell the police.”
“So what did you do?”
Noble passed another photograph to Oldman.
“I strangled her.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I cut off her hair.”
Detective Chief Superintendent Oldman looked up from the last photograph and said, “Why’d you do that?”
“She wouldn’t stop looking at me.”
“Same as the other one?” said Detective Superintendent Noble, opening the second cardboard folder and passing more photographs to Oldman.
“Just like the other one,” I said.
Detective Chief Superintendent Oldman flicked through the photographs and then handed them back to Noble.
Oldman sat back in his chair, arms folded, and nodded at Sandy.
Sandy looked down at the pad and began to read:
