The sharply dressed, well-groomed man took long, calculated steps down the corridor. The police officer at his side did not seem impressed, but nor did he seem to understand the true severity of the situation.
They reached the interview room, and the officer opened the door.
‘Stay outside,’ the man said coolly, his tone laced with authority. The police officer nodded and leaned against the wall. With the police officer out of the way, for now, the man walked into the room.
Waiting inside was a boy, no more than fourteen years old, dressed in a tattered suit and spattered in blood. It was clear he had been through a lot, but the man had a sense there was more to it. Something…different.
He took up a seat and sat over the table from the boy. ‘What’s your name?’
‘I don’t have one,’ the boy replied. He refused to make eye contact, and chewed on an unlit cigarette.
‘What happened?’ The man waved his hands in the air, and the camera in the corner flickered off. ‘You’re safe here. I’m not with the police. Tell me.’
The boy slowly looked up. ‘You won’t believe me.’
With a chuckle the man made eye contact. ‘Yes I will. Now speak.’
As if entranced the boy suddenly started to give his story.