The dark circles under Mick O’Dowd’s eyes told Maggie that he had barely slept a wink. He was slouched on the bed in his cell looking annoyed at the flickering fluorescent light above him. She heard from the custody sergeant that every now and again he’d shout abuse through the steel door to anyone within earshot. Significantly sober now, Maggie guessed, he would be recounting the goings on of the night before, preparing himself for questioning.
‘Can I get some fucking paracetamol in here? How can you interview me if my head is pounding!?’
Maggie stood back as the officer accompanying her unlocked the cell door. The officer situated himself in front of Mick with a tray full of something that was supposed to pass for breakfast. Maggie could understand the look of distaste on Mick’s face.
‘I can’t eat that shit. Do you have any headache tablets?’
‘You’ll have to wait for the doctor, I’m not—’ the PC replied, looking at Maggie for some assistance.
‘Forget it, I don’t want to hear your procedural shit. When am I going to be interviewed?’
‘Mr O’Dowd, my name is DC Maggie Jamieson. I’ll be interviewing you shortly. I just wanted to see that you were sober enough to answer our questions.’
‘Fuck’s sake. Are you going to be long? Take that shit with you … wait … leave the coffee and the juice.’
Both Maggie and the PC ignored Mick as the door was locked behind them. Looking through the small window, Maggie watched him guzzle down the orange juice like it was the first drink he’d ever had. Maggie noted the injuries on O’Dowd’s knuckles, as he held the cup of coffee to his mouth. She’d certainly be asking about them.
Before going in for the interview, Mick was allowed to see his solicitor. The tall, grey-suited man entered and took a seat in front of Mick.
‘Hello, Mr O’Dowd. My name is William McCabe.’ He pulled out some paperwork and laid it on the table. ‘I see the police want to question you about a criminal damage, affray, as well as the more serious offence of grievous bodily harm.’
Mick pretended to be shocked.
‘Whoa, whoa … whoa! I get the criminal damage and affray – and pretty much hold my hands up to them – but what the hell is the GBH charge you’re talking about? No one was seriously hurt in that fight last night and no weapons were used. Just my hands.’ Mick showed his solicitor the cuts on his knuckles as proof.
‘I see. Well according to this,’ he gestured at the paperwork, ‘the GBH relates to a serious assault against someone by the name of Victoria Wilkinson. Do you know her, Mr O’Dowd?’
‘Vicki? Oh, my god. What’s happened to Vicki?’ His acting skills were better than he hoped, because the solicitor looked genuinely concerned.
‘It seems, Mr O’Dowd, that Vicki was beaten and left for dead in her flat. On the same day that you got into a fight with a Mr Patrick Quinn. The police suspect you’re involved with the serious assault on Vicki, because you have a history of domestic abuse. It says here that you’re currently on licence for an offence against an ex-partner. Is that correct?’
Mick nodded.
‘I swear I had nothing to do with Vicki. We cooled things off after my probation officer warned me that I could be breaching my fucking licence.’
The two men discussed Mick’s whereabouts during the time in question and he explained the incident in the pub as an unfortunate misunderstanding.
‘Right. Well, from what I see here, the police don’t seem to have much evidence to charge you in the case of the GBH at this moment in time. It seems you have an alibi, if what you’re saying checks out. You’ll likely be charged with the criminal damage and affray – but given the circumstances, I think we can get you out on bail.’
Mick smiled. ‘Thanks, Mr McCabe. Can we get this over and done with? My head’s pounding.’
The solicitor nodded. Mick knew that a lesser charge might just keep him in his nice, cosy flat, and he’d make sure nothing would affect that.
The solicitor stepped out for a moment and returned with the two officers from earlier. A digital recorder was switched on by the woman. She reminded Mick he was still under caution and explained how the questioning would go. Mick nodded his understanding. Keep it together Mickey boy …