Reilly recalled a recent reading of the Inferno in which traitors were mentioned. A dishonest policeman would certainly fall under the description of a betrayer of community ties.
Once again the punishment was designed to fit the crime.
Kennedy grunted in frustration. ‘This guy really knows how to leave his audience hanging.’
‘He’s certainly a tease,’ Chris agreed. ‘Knows just when to lead us on, then makes a cut just at the pay-off.’
The picture morphed into a shot of Alan Fitzpatrick’s face.
Looking at the background, the politician was in the barn where they had found him, which led Reilly to assume that Crowe and Coffey’s footage had been recorded there too. This was good; it meant that they had information on a primary crime scene for at least three murders.
Like the others Fitzpatrick was bound to a chair. A streak of black pitch ran down his face, the skin at the edges of the pitch appearing red and angry.
Reilly grimaced. This one seemed more brutal – there was no doubt, Fitzpatrick looked scared, much more so than the other two had been. He blinked at the camera, clearly in pain from the burns on his face. ‘I’ll say whatever you want ...’ He blinked, gave a little sob. ‘Please don’t hurt me again.’
There was another edit, and when the picture returned, Fitzpatrick looked more composed, the black pitch had been removed from his face, and the tar cleared off it. ‘We’d been friends for a long time—’
‘Friends with who?’ Kennedy muttered, irritation evident in his voice. ‘Who the hell are these guys talking about?’
‘It certainly sounds as though they’re all referring to one person in particular,’ Chris agreed.
‘To be honest, he owed me.’ Despite the circumstances, Fitzpatrick was still unable to keep a faint note of pride out of his voice. ‘Lots of people owe me ...’
He glanced up at the camera, as if quickly remembering where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. ‘All it took was a quick phone call to be sure that we got the result we wanted.’ He gazed at the camera lens, gave a wan smile. ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine. That’s the way it works, isn’t it?’
He was obviously discussing his abilities to wheel and deal, bend the rules, make things happen, Reilly mused.
‘It was almost a formality getting early release approved ...’
Early release. They had to be talking about a prisoner ... perhaps the perpetrator Reuben was referring to?
Once more the screen went black, but was soon filled with another caption card.