[ task001 ] THE INTERROGATION.
“The price of being misunderstood, he thought. They call you devil or they call you god.” ― Richard Bach
Part One ( you )
Do you have any criminal history? Anything big or small that you want to make us aware of?
Nathaniel hadn’t blinked since the moment he’d entered the interrogation room. His lawyer sat by his side, watching as the academic glared into the eyes of the impish and jumpy junior officer. Nate couldn’t help the reflexive smirk that crawled onto the corner of his lips, taunting the other to extract anything he could. The head detective furrowed her brow as her impatient tapping narrated her need for a response to the question, as Nate’s lawyer answered on his behalf. “As your records will show, my client has never been indicted nor charged with any criminal charges, and has had no run-ins with your department to date.” Nate cocked his head, leaning back in his chair as he found himself analysing every little detail of the room. The reflective glass that no doubt housed a collective of other detectives, the steady blinking light that absorbed his every movement, the leaking roof panel and dirt built into the carpet. For a moment, he felt sick. He then found himself staring at the lens of the camera trained on his taut form from time to time, as if to greet whoever would be reviewing his tapes. And, knowing the prejudices in this town, they’d be reviewing his tapes with frequency.
Detective Grant then glanced down at a file on the table, the Ballantyne name etched across the front. Nate, again, remained unphased by the heavy volume that the detective was padding underhand. “If that is the case, then what is the sealed record on your file ?” Nathaniel was clearly not a stupid person. He let his lawyer and Detective Grant bicker about the legality of mentioning the file, as Nate pondered his situation. No, it didn’t look great for him. A third of the town already believed he was behind Daisey’s disappearance, and all the others still all viewed him in contempt - he was an easy scapegoat. Still, Nathaniel wanted to thank Daisey, shake her hand and relish in the moment she’d given him, something that no one else ever could - a most simulating mental challenge.
What is your connection to Daisey? How did you know her? How well did you know her?
Every single movement of Nathaniel was being analysed, and he was conscious to remain like marble as the detective and officer stared him down. However, he couldn’t help but bite the inside of his cheek at the mention of Daisey. His face cemented in a scowl, his temperament unchanging as his lawyer nodded his head and gave him permission to speak. “Ms Rutherford and I have been acquainted since infancy, as our families share close business relations,” Nathaniel deadpanned, his blue eyes deepening on the detective whose stance eagerly hungered for the moment he’d slip up. Say something he wasn’t supposed to. Admit something. Nathaniel was no fool. “Our parents had ordained we be married once she has graduated, for the diversification of our portfolios.” The young, simple and slow, officer looked to the lead detective - almost lost. “You were engaged ?” He parroted, as Nate focused his attentions on him. “If you had the capacity to listen, you’d hear we are arranged. The engagement will be made at the end of Daisey’s senior year.” Nate felt the touch of his lawyer’s stern and unforgiving grasp on his arm, making him jump in his seat. The frosted hair and anchored eyes shackled Nate to silence. He said no more, but was foolishly contented with the confusion painted across the dim-witted cop’s face.
Have you visited the blog site “veritasexposed”? If you have, how credible do you find the information on this site? Do you know who runs the website?
A question that Nathaniel could answer in earnest, he prepared himself to speak before his lawyer interjected. “Pertinence ?” He merely stated, his arrogant and entitled air rivaled even that of Nathaniel himself. Detective Grant let the facade of good cop swirl down the proverbial drain, as she labored on the breath before sounding out her discontent. “This is my investigation, and your client has the privileged to answer this question and absolve himself from reproach.” This answer did not please Nate’s lawyer whatsoever, as he began to rise from his seat - encouraging Nathaniel to do the same. “We are here to assist, Detective. Mr Ballantyne has no obligation to speak to you further, until the time your department should produce a warrant. Nathaniel, do not answer anymore questions.” Nathaniel didn’t move. He found himself cemented to his seat as he looked with ambivalence to the duo of detectives who were entranced by the venomous glare of his lawyer. Nate wanted to start laughing, but he’d become so entrenched in his expressionless mask he found himself unable. He turned swiftly in his chair to his lawyer, a devilish glint in his eye. “I’ll meet you outside, Kenneth. And don’t worry, you’re still getting paid.” His lawyer said nothing more, merely shaking his head as he exited the room. Nathaniel clasped his hands together as he rested them before him on the table. “I have never endevoured to visit an inane blog of petulant and most likely unfounded truths. However, one would have to be impaired to not be cognizant of its’ existence. As for its’ owner, I’m sure a sweep of their IP address will be all you need, as someone so founded in their own narcissism would be foolish enough to remain susceptible to threat.” Nathaniel said no more, as the clock on the wall ticked, punctuating an already unbearable silence.
Part Two ( Daisey )
Do you remember where you were the night Daisey went missing? If so, where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with?
Nathaniel could remember in painstaking detail the second he found out about Daisey being missing, as was the curse for most memories of his own, trapped inside his head with no ability to escape. However, the day of her disappearance was another story. All his days blended into one another, and were it not for the suspension of disbelief that blurred the edges, he’d have no issue anointing with clarity his very whereabouts at the time. “I’d have to check my planner, as I’m currently not aware.” An incredulous expression painted that of the young officer, his hand immediately reaching for pen and paper. “You have no recollection ?” The officer reiterates, as Nate cocks an eyebrow. “My schedule habitually consists of what can be considered a nocturnal cycle. I was most likely in bed when Daisey disappeared, however was not informed of such until much later.” Nate was well aware this wasn’t an answer, and he could see his lawyer quivering in contempt in the waiting room, counting only the minutes to secure his paycheck.
Where were you the night Daisey’s body was recovered?
A laugh almost spilled from his lips, his calcified features betraying an inch of human emotion. “The carnival, for a brief moment,” Nathaniel uttered, his brows furrowing. “Until the monotony of such an event grew tiresome, as I retreated back home to continue working on my thesis.” He could see that every little piece of the puzzle he provided for the detectives, further into the rabbit warren they would fall. The way they could contort themselves into knots, ordaining him the perpetrator. There’s one crucial piece of evidence however, one that Nathaniel would guard closely to his chest - that would either exonerate or condemn him to the crime. A truth so raw that even Nathaniel couldn’t comprehend it, as thus remained quelled in the furthest recesses of his mind.
How familiar are you with the Ashmont woods? Have you been there often? Have you recently ventured out here? If so, why?
Despite having lived in Ashmont his entire life, unsurprisingly, Nathaniel wasn’t like most kids. He detested the outdoors, being forced to interact with others, and biding his time doing something with little consequence in the schemes of life. Hiking through the woods, for someone as finicky and pedantic as Nathaniel, did not make sense. However, there was an unspeakable truth - that Nate spent more time out in the woods than anyone. A crested hill right by his family’s opulent dwelling provided the best place for him to scope out the skies and map out the stars, as was a passtime he cherished dearly. “The forests are unseemly places, teaming with filth and muck,” Nathaniel made the disdain clear. “In my life I have only ventured to the tiny pocket behind my house, the exact same spot every time. The gardeners on my estate will affirm as such. I have a permanent telescope affixed there.”
Part Three ( the Investigation )
Do you have feelings towards the investigation? Any comments?
Nathaniel didn’t have feelings, period. He then gazed at the pair, a penetrating focus on the both of them as he could even see the infallible lead detective grow uncomfortable under his gaze. “No comment,” Nathaniel uttered with finality, unclasping the hands he had rested on the table before returning them to his lap. His eyes once again fell upon the camera, toying with the films’ future observant.
Do you have any people you feel the police should look into? Please, let us know who and why.
As the final question is uttered, Nathaniel could feel his steely temperament fizzle as the inherent arrogance slowly melted back into his pores and punctuated his features. It was almost over. The mind-games, however, would persist for quite a time - and he knew this was not the last time he’d be speaking with these two detectives. “I am in no position to give anyone away, as no one could truly... be adept enough to... silence Daisey Rutherford.” For a second, he almost felt his throat close over, as a most ardent truth remained quivering on the edge of his tongue. That horrendous, horrid, unutterable and earth-shattering truth ?
Nathaniel, the soulless and heartless, cares for Daisey, and he refuses to admit that she is gone.
BONUS || Part Four ( the Feedback )
“It had to be him,” the baby-faced junior insisted, standing before Detective Grant’s desk. “It all fits. The motive ? Her money. He seems big enough to move her. Callous enough to lie. Has no alibi for either the murder or the body discovery. Had no emotion whatsoever talking about someone he knew all his life. Surely he’s the one,” the cop remarked, almost distressed. With a slew of other interviews stacked up on her desk, all Detective Grant could do was take a swig of her coffee before meeting the insatiable eyes of an officer hungry for justice. “He’s... a person of interest. But the Rutherford family is not one you want to mess with, and as you know, Mr Ballantyne has very clear connections to them.”
“Are you suggesting we ignore evidence ?” The frustration was clear on the young officer’s face, as he found himself pacing before Detective Grant’s desk. As a detective in training, he did not have such seniority to make leading decisions in a case. But he was sure he had to make the other see what he was trying to say.
Weathered by years of crime that her junior couldn’t even fathom, Detective Grant felt her lips fall into a straight line as she sighed out in response. “I’m suggesting we find evidence. Not bull-head an investigation to where you think it leads.”
“But the kid’s a fucking psycho. His medical records...”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“The sealed file under his name !”
“Officer Forrester, I’m aware.”
“The fact he still refers to her in the present tense.”
This made Detective Grant stop. Her lips pursed for a moment while trying to articulate a response, fathoming any reason they had not to hold him. The watch adorning the young Ballantyne’s wrist was worth more than her yearly income however, and she’d lived in the town of Ashmont long enough to know what that means. Her fists clenched for a moment, forlorn as she tore her eyes away from Michael as they landed on the window to her office.
Where they could see one Nathaniel Ballantyne being escorted out of the building by his lawyer, adjusting the cuffs on his perfectly tailored suit.
With an expression as cold as ice.
