When Darkness Strikes | ls au

4. Into Your Darkest Hour

Louis flickers through the files in his hands, under Harry's careful stare. Across them, the thick glass offers a vision of the interrogation room, where the suspect sits awaiting.

"Does he have any felonies?" Harry asks, although the dark look on the suspect's eyes already answer him; also, it's in the manner in which he remains there, too calm and collected to be his first time.

Louis sighs as he stops flipping through the papers in his hold, where an old picture of the suspect's mugshot stamps the page that flashes Harry's gaze.

"He's a real piece of work in this town. Everybody knows him and knows to stay away from him." Louis tells. "When I was a teenager, he was charged for several sexual assault incidents, robbery, and violent behavior, in general. He was arrested for a major part of the time I lived here. After I started working at the station, I detained him once."

Harry swallows the lump in his dry throat as he takes the files from Louis' hands, but his heart barely recognizes at the lingering touch of the detective's fingertips on his knuckles. His mind is too focused on the words that cover the files, and his veins are overflowing with that thrill he usually enjoys; the excitement of having a name to fill in the blanks of a crime, or at least, to fill the blanks in a list of persons of interest.

The man's name is Daniel Wilson, a forty-something year-old person that lived most of his life in prison, running from the law, and breaking it. In his list of felonies, Harry can confirm what Louis tells him. Generally, a violent man with the capability of murdering a young girl in the silence of the night.

"He has been interrogated before, so, be mindful of that when you ask questions." Louis advises once Harry has the files closed and locked within his grip.

The investigator grabs the files from Claire's case, and sighs before he decides the façade he'll put up to interact with Daniel. "Alright." Harry breathes, grinning at Louis one last time before he twists the knob to the interrogation room.

Daniel's eyes travel straight to his figure, firm and sinister. Harry is contented at himself when he doesn't shiver nor demonstrates any sight of hesitation as he moves towards the table where the suspect sits, the clacking of his shoes echoing inside the place.

"Good evening." Harry greets politely, taking a seat across from the man, who leans back on his seat almost in amusement. "How are you, Mr. Wilson?"

"Great." Daniel shortly offers. His voice is hoarse, scarred by decade's worth of tobacco, Harry assumes. "How long will this take? I need to get back to work."

Harry ignores the man's question as he takes his audio-recording device from his jacket and turns it on.

It's ironic, really, how Harry feels as if sometimes, he can't interact with most people without being awkward or exaggeratedly polite, and yet, he knows exactly how to act in front of the most insane and dangerous criminals.

Methods of interrogation are extensive, and they're all listed in Harry's brain. He always liked the welcoming approach when questioning someone; leaving the suspect under the impression that he's a friend, someone they can trust. Usually, it's easy to get a confession using this method, but Harry can tell that this won't be Daniel's case. The man knows the in-and-outs of this process, knows the sides of the law and has been in similar positions, if not worst.

So, Harry knows that this interrogation in particular, will be constructed in demonstrations of power and control. Daniel won't break if he doesn't genuinely believe Harry has the power to hold him guilty.

When the tape starts registering and the red flickering light turns on, Harry places the device on the surface of the table. Daniel's gaze catches the object quickly, but soon, he fixates his eyes on Harry again, apprehension lacking in his features.