Taming the Alien

Brief debriefing

‘We’d like you to go through it one more time, Sergeant.’

Brant lit up a Weight, took a deep drag, exhaled. ‘You’re trying to learn it by heart, that it?’

The two men conducting the interview wore suits. One had a black worsted, the other a tweed Oxford. Black said, patiently, ‘There may be some detail you’ve forgotten.’

‘It’s on tape, yer mate in the Oxfam job had a recorder.’

Oxford said, ‘We’re anxious to let you get home.’

Brant sat back, said, ‘We arrived at Heathrow, I re-cuff us — ’

‘Re-cuff?’

‘Is there an echo?’

‘Let me understand this, Sergeant. The woman was uncuffed during the flight?’

‘You catch on quick, boyo.’

The men exchanged a glance, then: ‘Please continue.’

‘We got off the plane and I covered the cuffs with me jacket …

Another exchanged look.

‘Then we came out and a priest shot her.’

‘What makes you think he was a priest?’

‘Was he was a good shot? What d’ya think, he looked like Bing Crosby?’

Now Oxford allowed his skepticism to show, said, ‘He was hardly a priest.’

‘Are you catholic?’

‘No, but I hardly see …

‘If you were a catholic, you’d not be surprised what priests are capable of.’

Black decided to take control — cut the shit, cut to the chase. ‘You won’t be shedding any tears, will you Sergeant?’

‘What’s that mean?’

‘Well, I mean … like someone did you a favour, eh? She tried to murder you once, killed one of your colleagues … how much can you be hurting?’

Brant was up. ‘Enough of this charade, I’m off.’

Oxford moved to block the door and Brant smiled. ‘’Scuse me.’

Oxford stepped aside. Brant opened the door, paused, said: ‘I may need to talk to you two again. Don’t leave town.’