90 Punish Them (1/2)

”Detective Lewis,” Nash reprimanded right on cue.

”Well, the sick bastard slipped through the investigation and wasn't convicted. It's probably a good thing that he's dead. Divine retribution if you ask me.” Dean looked up at me in shock.

”But we still need to find out the guy who murdered him. That's our job. Keep your personal feelings out of this,” Detective Nash said in a firm voice. I scoffed and looked away. Dean's eyes were trained on me. He was completely ignoring Detective Nash post that.

The need to brag about what he had done was bubbling in his heart and I was the person who was on his side in his opinion.

”Do you know who did it?”

”No.”

”I think you do know who did it,” Detective Nash pressed. He had grown aggressive, making himself out to be the bad guy in the situation.

”No,” Dean replied confidently. He had been expecting this confrontation at some point in this conversation. He had not an ounce of guilt or emotion in his voice. If he hadn't done it, he would have been appalled and asked why he was being treated this way. But no, he had reacted like he knew exactly what the answer was and didn't want to tell.

Like a stubborn child who had stolen but didn't want to admit to it.

”Tell me something. His parents need to know what happened to him. They deserve better!” he demanded.

”I don't know anything. I told you when I last saw her.”

”But that's not true. Because we have proof,” I said calmly. We had rehearsed this moment multiple times before coming into the interrogation. We had planned who would reveal the surveillance tape to the suspect and exactly at which moment.

The situation was completely transparent yet he continued to maintain his innocence by clinging to his narrative. It became evident that he was not going to budge. So I took control. I revealed the final and most substantial piece of evidence. Now, I had to tell him I understood and make him speak to me.

”We have proof, Dean. I don't care about what you did. I am doing my job... I look at that man and I think about the people who did this to me. The pain I suffered and I see why this man needed to be punished. But I need to know the truth. I need to know the truth, Dean.” My voice wavered as I spoke. I pressed my finger against the picture of the victim.

”This man is dead.” I bit out the words. ”He was a horrible man and he deserved what was coming to him, but he is dead.”