At the police station, they made me identify myself several times before bringing me into a dark room. Blinded by the fluorescent lights in the hallway, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Gregory was sitting on a stool, and didn’t turn when I walked in. A jacketed officer stood beside him, detailing what was happening on the other side of the window. The wall facing us was the back side of a one-way mirror through which you could see the twins being interrogated, one after the other, in the adjoining room.
Vanya was being questioned when I arrived. The interrogation must have been going on for some time, because he looked demolished. His face was sunken. Something in his features had collapsed.
“You have her name tattooed on your feet. Why?”
“Everyone forgot. We didn’t want to forget.”
“So you admit it.”
“We got a tattoo of her name.”
“Was it your idea or your brother’s to kidnap Faye?”
“We didn’t kidnap her.”
“You killed her, you hid her in Museum Station, and then you moved her remains into the silo. How did you transport her all that distance?”
“We didn’t transport her all that way.”
“Did you carry her on your bikes? In a cart?”
“No.”
“You were six years old. Did you have an accomplice?”
“We didn’t kill her.”
“It’s in your best interests to confess, if you want to save your brother.”
On hearing these words, Vanya flipped the table over onto the interrogating officer.
“My brother didn’t do anything.”
He then turned violently toward us and punched the mirror. The glass didn’t break, but was marked with a long streak of blood. His hand swelled right up, but Vanya didn’t seem to notice the pain.
“Get him out of here. Go get me the other one,” bellowed the officer, coming out from behind the table.
It was an endless day. We waited for hours in the grey hallways, drinking weak coffee. Gregory stood rigidly at my side. We hadn’t said a word to each other. There was nothing left to say. His presence to me seemed secondary, useless.
Finally, they brought us into the inspector’s office. The sickening smell of stale tobacco filled the room.
“We interrogated them for over five hours. They didn’t crack.”
“But you do think they did it, right?” I shot back.
“Like I say, they haven’t admitted anything. We’ve searched their phones. They’re completely empty. That’s a little strange. Do they have another one?”
“Not that I know of.”
“We even performed the DNA tests you suggested to the Belleville police.”
Gregory stood up suddenly.
“She did what?” he stammered.
“Calm down and sit down right now, sir.”
Gregory sat back down.
“When she gave her deposition in Belleville, your wife suggested that we take DNA samples from your sons. But it turned up nothing. They don’t match the results from the investigation. We have nothing against them. You’ve put me in a terrible position with the press. Now I’m going to have to backtrack on this whole story… Once again, we’re going to look like idiots. This investigation is a nightmare.”
He was thinking aloud, chewing on a toothpick. He didn’t look at us, only at the papers tacked to the wall. The office was a dusty mess. He took the toothpick out of his mouth and turned to us.
“You’ve wasted my time. This story makes no sense. They were barely six years old at the time. Whoever mutilated Faye had physical strength, experience in dissecting a body, and a level of perversion impossible in a child. They needed cold patience and time to massacre a little girl like this. Your boys are the kind of damaged kids I’ve seen hundreds of, but they’re not criminals.”
What did he know? Did he really know them so well after a few hours of questioning? Was he the one who tried to raise them? To love them?
“Has Vanya been treated for his self-mutilation?”
The shock made me jump backwards. My chin started to tremble. Gregory closed his eyes and clenched his fists on the arms of the chair, hating me with all his being.
“You didn’t see anything, I suppose? Is that it?” The inspector nodded as he spoke, looking at us with disdain. “Fucking rich boys. They’re worse than the rest of them.” He chewed his words. I wasn’t sure I understood.
“And what about the rape?” I asked.
“It’s just not clear, that one. There’s no proof, and the boy’s account is inconsistent. I don’t think they’ve got enough for a charge. They might ask that your boys be sent to reform school, I don’t know. I didn’t do the follow-up.” He was quiet for a moment. “All right, I’ve had enough of you. Get out of my office and go get your boys. They’re in booth six.”
We got up, and Gregory headed straight for the door. The room was tiny, and he had to turn sideways to keep from touching me. The torn leather of the chair had been scratching my legs that whole time, but I only noticed it at that moment. I rubbed my thighs to get rid of the marks.
I didn’t recognize the men they returned to me. The twins seemed to have suddenly grown up. The shadow of stubble darkened their faces. We walked one behind the other without speaking, or really looking at each other. I didn’t know what to do with them anymore.
The inspector poked his head out the door of his office. “The exit is to the right, there.”
He held a folder, which he used to direct us. We didn’t react. None of us seemed ready to initiate leaving. The inspector stepped out into the hall, arms crossed, vigorously chewing gum. “By the way… the DNA tests you requested… your
