1 Dani? I knew the lad better than he knew imself.

We met when we was kids an stuff, arguin ova a light and shite it aint no interestin story. You could tell he were one of em propa gaudy fookin London lads, cause even though he ad this peace an love attitude bout im, he still ad this imperial fookin arrogance. You couldve smashed the lad wit an iron bar an hed still be up in your face blood an all. But fer long as I knew im, hed aint ever fookin hit a person cept outta selfdefence. Sos you know now the lad aint never ad any enemies. Not a single one. Hes were a pretty boy, too. Like he ad these bright blue eyes, an I mean bright, sorta shit that melts fookin faces mate. But I dunno, some point down the line, I guess all the good times we ad kinda washed away an those bright blue eyes faded wit his mind like a bludgeoned pigeon crashin into fookin concrete; nout were eva the same except a bottle o wine in a shite summers rain. He just became all void an disconnected from everythin else cept his own little world his own little fruitless useless mindless insanity and it were like a fookin video reel screwin up inside his ead an catchin on the circuits til BAM! Well want really a bam like were it? You know that. Not even any blood, just me an Kathy found the bastard dead int mornin. Sall I can tell you. And wheres... what was her name? Kathy? Charles lent back into his chair with a heavy sigh and shot glances back and forth between the officers. As he sulked further and further into his chair the eyes in front of him grew more intense with every movement and, as if giving in to it all completely, Charles threw his arms in the air. Ah fook do I know! She fooked reet off when the fookin shit it the fan, thats all she eva did! Just ad some kinda mental break down and ran off. Left me there with dead boy. The interviewing officer smirked. So, whats her full name? he asked. Nah, that aint fair! Yous know I aint got a clue, cause us three ad a different kinda friendship. That shit aint eva been important! She were Kathy, he were Dani. Sall there is really. So you find your friend dead with a girl who doesnt exist the friend you went to see the night before, whom you argued with, and left? Just left and suddenly hes dead so the whole mess you were in disappears? Convenient. The interviewer had that sort of accent that grated Charless every nerve and made him twitch. He sucked in as much air as he could through gritted teeth and lent forward menacingly, trying to place himself nose to nose.

Look, I know I aint got no perfect record. I know I aint a saint, an I know ow this shit looks. An fook, we all knows it, you gonna put me down for this. So fookin do it. I aint admittin nothin. I only want one thing mate an yous know what it is. We cant give them you. Theyre evidence. You lotve ad em for the past couplea weeks man! Aint no way youll ever understand that stuff! Only me an Kathy know Dani well enough ta tell you what it means and I aint lettin you lock that shit up in a fookin draw cause its too important! Thats all the lad ad, and so what hes dead but I got enough integrity to defend is crazy arse ideas. Let me ave em and you can do whateva you fookin want to me! There, you gotta scapegoat now. I just want em. It aint much ta ask of ya! The two officers looked at each other, but it was only the second who had kept silent so far that had an inch of sympathy in his eyes at Charless desperation. He was the one who walked solemnly to the corner of the dark room and brought to the table a pile of scraggy, ripped notebooks, taped together in all kinds of putrid smelling glue and adhesive. Charles looked to the interviewer with wide eyes. The interviewing officer sighed and shrugged nonchalantly. We couldnt understand a word of it. Not only was his handwriting terrible, the things we could read were completely irrelevant. Its no help to us. Charles picked up the oldest notebook. It was black leather eroded and almost rotting in filth at the spine, with fragile pages hanging out of the sides scrawled with childrens handwriting and black runny ink. When Charles moved to open it and read the first page he felt something heavy on his chest, like a daunting realisation he couldnt quite pinpoint coupled with such a heavy pounding heart he was sure he made the whole room vibrate. You wait here; well be back in a second. Charles only nodded slightly as the two officers left at the call of someone urging them out of the room and, as if by perfect timing, the slamming door knocked a tear out of the Charless eyes, iridescent in colour and the shape of a dangerous tragedy.