“It was not as if he became a person of interest by accident, nor by good police work. Sure, he pled the fifth in the end, got himself subpoenaed and charged with contempt. Even did a little jail time for a short stint during the trial, all for refusing to talk when the time came. But in the beginning, it was Wilson himself who came to us. Not the other way around. 

“He placed the original call, Wilson Jack, did. He tried to deny it later, but the most sophisticated voice analysis software in existence confirmed it was him. No expense was spared. He volunteered to get himself into this, but when it came time to talk on the witness stand, he refused to commit.” 

The taped interview with the detective falls silent at that point. For a long span of seconds all the listener hears is the soft, ambiguous, barely-static, backed by the tiny squeaky creak of the recorder’s wheels spinning. Before he resumes speaking, several times, we hear him take a deep breath, a prevocal inhale – then nothing. No words, no voice, not even a puff of released air. Just the suppression of each exhale. Along with the building tension. 

When he resumes, his tone is a mixture of apology and frustration, resignation and pleading. “Look,” he says. “You’ve got to understand, he says, “I was just the assigned detective on a very old, very cold, case.”

“I know,” comes the interviewer’s slow but steady reply. “But it was the case of my - identity. Surely, you can allow my keen interest, in this instance.”

{…tbc 1}