Chapter 109
They have been interviewing William for over an hour and have gotten precisely nowhere. Daniel is dangerously close to losing his temper when William insists yet again that he had nothing to do with either Filippa’s death or the fire.
“You had sex with Filippa late on Saturday night,” Daniel says in an accusatory tone. “You were the last person to see her alive. And yet you want us to believe that you didn’t kill her. Do you think we’re completely stupid?”
“It wasn’t me,” William repeats.
He looks tired, but the stubborn expression remains unchanged.
“You lied about the fact that the two of you slept together, in spite of being questioned on more than one occasion. Why should we believe you now?” Daniel says.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to tell the truth?” Hanna says gently. “I promise you’ll feel better as soon as you get it off your chest.”
William clamps his lips together. He is angry and on the defensive.
“You’re simply prolonging the agony by not admitting what you did,” Daniel points out. “We can sit here all night if you want, but it would be better if you told us how it happened; then we can call a halt for the evening and let you rest.”
“We already know you followed Filippa and pressed her face down into the snow until she stopped breathing,” Hanna adds.
William gives a start. “I’m not a murderer!”
“But, William,” Hanna says quietly. “If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
“I’ve explained what happened.” William raises his chin.
“We had sex, and then I asked her to leave. She got mad and stormed out of my bedroom, and that was the last time I saw her alive. I heard the front door slam, and I assumed she’d gone back to the cabin.
Then there she was the next morning, just lying in the snow. ”
“Can’t you see how bad this looks?” Daniel pauses for a moment. “Why did you do it?”
“What is it you don’t get?” William hisses. “I didn’t kill Filippa!”
He waves his hand with such force that he knocks over the glass, and water goes all over the table. Daniel grabs a few paper napkins and mops up the worst of it.
William stares at the wall, making no attempt to help. He doesn’t seem to be softening under pressure. Quite the reverse—his expression is belligerent, and he keeps repeating the same answers like a parrot.
It is almost nine o’clock. Daniel glances at Hanna. They have tried every possible angle to try to get William to admit the truth. Are they going to get much further tonight?
The air in the interview room is warm and stuffy. Daniel’s eyes feel like sandpaper. Maybe it would be better to stop now, make a fresh attempt tomorrow?
Somehow they have to find a way of breaking William’s resistance, but right now he has no idea how they are going to do that.