Chapter 13: Caging the Beast

As the news had spread gradually, more journalists had been sent to the police station where Matthew was brought. He sat quietly in the back seat of the police car, the cold iron of the handcuffs sending pleasant chills over his body as he watched the crowd outside. There were no civilians, luckily, but it was merely a question of time. Thomas sat beside him as his guard, silent and vigilant. Lynne drove ahead in another car, thus allowing them to exchange a few, eloquent glances about the entire situation. But no words. Although Thomas clearly itched to address his master the way he had been trained, he didn't. Matthew was pleased to see the loyalty, which the man held for his superiors and the plan ahead.

They arrived at the station and were let out in a garage where Thomas had his hand on Matthew's arm constantly. Lynne took them with her up through the basement and to an interrogation room where Matthew settled down calmly, the smirk lodged on his lips, and his eyes resting dauntingly at Lynne as she closed the door. Thomas remained by the two-way mirror, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

"So, the big Matthew Darklighter, still thinking he can get away with it, is sitting in an interrogation room," Lynne said as she threw the case file on the table and settled down. "Sounds like the beginning of a fairy-tale, doesn't it?" There was no need to turn on a dictaphone or the like, seeing that the camera in the corner of the room was wired with a microphone. Times have changed, Matthew thought, before turning his attention back to Lynne.

"It is the beginning of a joke, Lynne," he replied gravely. "You have no idea what you're doing. It would be wise to stop now before you go too far. Laughter is not an option anymore; even less is shouts of joy at the end."

"Oh really?" she mimicked his smirk before laughing and rested her chin under her folded hands. "I'm just getting started, Mr. Darklighter." She straightened up and pulled out the photographs of the Preston girls and slid them over the table to him. "Recognise these two girls?"

Matthew glanced down at them, thinking how delightful Claire had been when he had tugged her in. He looked back up at Lynne with a sad gleam to his eyes, the smirk never lessening.

"No," he answered honestly. "I can't say that I do."

"You know, they lived close to your mansion, right? Moved here from the US not long ago, attending a school not far from the outskirts of your forest," Lynne elaborated.

"Mrs. Wright, if I am required to keep track of all citizens of my commune, I'm afraid I can only pass this test with a B," Matthew said.

"Well, you should know there are a lot of them. Six cases have been filed about children disappearing in your forest the last twenty years," Lynne retracted the photographs and fished out ten more. "Alex Dwindle and his sister Rose, Anton Levine and his two friends Mark Brydon and Charles Window, Emelie Northwood, Carrie McLloyd, Paul Fisher and Mary Hammond and finally William Cloud." She spread them out in front of him chronologically as she named them. "Ten kids, now twelve. All vanished in your forest. Despite the beautiful wall around it. And all of them from neighbourhoods close to the surrounding countryside and thus access to the fields and your forest in the middle of it all." She leaned back and took her time to survey Matthew as he studied each photograph before he glanced up at her.

"Could I have some water please?" he asked smiling kindly from her and to Thomas. Lynne gritted her teeth but did not show it as Thomas left the room to go and fetch a glass of water.

"What's so important in your mansion that you have to shield yourself from the public with masonry and vegetation?" Lynne leaned forth and tilted her head slightly. "How many bodies are you hiding in your pretty lake or buried deep under the roots of the trees in that big forest of yours?"

"Well, you're the detective, you should have it figured out by now," Matthew replied. "And if you haven't then that's either because there are no bodies to be found anywhere in that big forest of mine, or simply your lack of competence."

Thomas returned and placed the glass of water in front of Matthew, who didn't touch it just yet. Lynne's eyes narrowed into slits, and she collected the photographs again.

"We have forty-eight hours, Mr. Darklighter," she said. "What are you going to do if I can find one during those?"

"Nothing, because you won't," Matthew answered with a shrug. "Besides, I think you should worry about those forty-eight hours in a manner of "how long will it take me to find some real evidence to keep the son of a bitch here"."

"It sounds like there is evidence to be found?" Lynne inquired.

"Unless you count your own convictions and insane ideas, then no," Matthew glanced at Thomas who remained motionless and calm.

"I hope your damned nephew is ready for the task ahead of him," Lynne tapped the table-top lightly.

"Oh, he is," Matthew said and took a large gulp of the water. "Ever since your interest in us began growing to the edge of what was healthy, he has been ready."

"You're kidding me," Lynne's left hand flexed under the table.

"Not at all, my dear," Matthew smiled.

"Well, then I'm glad I can inform you that you are up for a psychological examination," Lynne said as she opened the case file. "With or without your consent."

"Oh, splendid!" Matthew beamed. "I thought you'd never ask how I'm doing these days."

Lynne scowled as he took another sip of the water. "You'd better get down from that high horse of yours," she said. "I have the best psychiatrist available."

"Excellent. Then I can spare my own monthly review," Matthew said. Lynne rose, clearly furious with his lack of cooperation, or at least answering to her will.

"Take him back to his cell, Thomas," she said before she strode decisively out of the room. Thomas remained expressionless and went to Matthew.

"Come along, sir," he said trying not to sound too submissive. Matthew followed without hesitation and one final smile at the camera.