Page 111 of Better the Devil

‘You had me there, hook, line, sinker, basket, waders, and turkey-coleslaw sandwich wrapped up for lunch.’

His eyes twinkled, like he was particularly pleased with this analogy. Or maybe he just really liked turkey-coleslaw sandwiches.

‘So, you’ll forgive me if I need to take a moment to reorder my thinking based on this new information.’

He turned his head and looked at the wall across from the mirror. For a long time, he just stared at it, like he could see through it, and through all the rooms beyond, to where Logan had escorted the girl.

‘That was her, right? Your daughter?’

Bosco chose not to answer that question.

‘I did it. I killed them. Take my confession. Write it down.’ He tapped his hand on the table just a few inches from Reeve’s notebook. ‘And I will tell you everything.’

The bottomof the chair legs scuffed across the floor as Logan sat and pulled himself in closer to the table.

Across the other side, the girl who had invaded his home, who had eaten his food, who had watched his telly, played his board games, chucked a pickled onion at him and nearly laughed herself sick when it landed in his tea, sat there in cold, stony silence.

Logan ran a hand down his face, covering his eyes for a moment. To his dismay, when he looked again, he was still in the same place.

‘Right,’ he began, but Olivia wasn’t having it.

‘Tape it,’ she instructed. When Logan hesitated, she tutted. ‘You tape interviews, right? So, get out your wee tape recorder, and tape it.’

‘We don’t use tape recorders anymore,’ Logan said. ‘We’ve moved on. It’s all digital now.’

He offered a smile, like this was a normal conversation. Like he still had a chance to shape it into one.

‘Whatever,’ Olivia said, brushing him off. ‘Just tape it.’

Logan knew this wasn’t a good idea. This was putting the whole investigation in jeopardy. He shouldn’t be in this room with her. Not on his own. Not without witnesses.

He pressed the button to start the recording. A record of it would be better than nothing.

‘Interview commencing at… six-seventeen P.M. Detective Chief Inspector Jack Logan conducting the interview of Olivia Maximuke, aged seventeen. Olivia, can you confirm you’ve declined the offer of a solicitor or appropriate adult?’

Olivia held his gaze as she leaned in closer to the recording equipment.

‘I confirm,’ she said, before leaning back again.

Logan cleared his throat. ‘I, eh, I asked you in to help us clear up a few things about an incident we’re investigating.’

‘No, I came in myself,’ Olivia corrected. ‘I’m the one who wanted to do this.’

Logan acknowledged this with a nod.

‘Can you say it out loud?’ Olivia asked him. ‘For the recording?’

Jack almost laughed. It felt like a joke. Like the sort of thing she’d wind him up with at home. She wasn’t smiling, though. Not even close.

‘Sorry. Yes, that’s correct. Olivia presented herself at Burnett Road station at approximately six P.M. and requested an interview. She made clear that she would speak to me, and me alone, and that any attempt to bring in anyone else would lead to her terminating the interview immediately.’

Logan held his hands open, inviting her to comment.

‘Would you say that’s accurate?’ he asked.

‘Bang on, Jack. Well done,’ Olivia replied. ‘So, come on. Chop chop. You’ve got stuff you want to know? Ask me.’

Logan thought about reaching over, stopping the recording, and cutting this whole thing short. He wanted to tell her to go, to take her back downstairs to Shona, and send them both home. Back to that world, away from this one.