[8 May 2010]
Tariq found him and he's already in police custody. He's eighteen, a knob-head who stole a car with his mates and took it for a joy ride. Dimitri and Lucas brought him in late last night and they treated him to a night of MI-5 hospitality - one, I hope, he's not likely to forget any time soon. They made sure it was decidedly unpleasant and the git was suitably terrified though he tried hard not to show it.
This morning, when Lucas told me we had him, I went straight down to the interrogation rooms to have a go at him myself. When Beth saw me in the observation room, she immediately objected to my presence, saying that I shouldn't be near the boy, that I was emotionally compromised and too involved personally. Needless to say, I was not impressed, but I've got to hand it to her - she has balls. Dimitri just looked stoic, giving me one of those looks of his that show wisdom beyond his years. He'll make a fine officer and will go far in the service, that one. He turned to Beth and said something about Lucas being there in order to placate her before shepherding her out of the room, leaving me alone with Lucas and the berk in the next room.
"He's just a kid, Harry," Lucas said then. "We double checked. Ruth was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"I know," I replied. He nodded and held the door open for me, following me into the room. He knew what I was going to do, knew what I had to do, and he understood. He also knew his role. He was there to stop me from going too far, and when the time came, he did just that.
As to the youth, Fredrick William Taylor, I hope he learned something from this experience. Afterwards, before he was released to Metro P.D., I went back down there alone, I'm not sure why - call it instinct. He was crying, hunched up in the corner of the room, no doubt feeling scared and alone, and it made me think of Graham, my son, whom I never see these days. It brought back memories of that time when he'd been bullied at school by the Irish kids because he'd, very stupidly, told them what I do for a living, and how I'd failed to support and protect him. No doubt, this boy's father also failed to support and protect him, and it is quite possibly sheer luck that it wasn't my son sitting in that holding cell today. It was a sobering thought and I felt suitably ashamed for what I'd done to both of them.