Autopsy of a Mind

"Sebastian," he called. "I need to show you some case files on this guy." We hurried behind him and he led us into a small office. 

"You even have an office?" Sebastian asked, looking impressed. 

"I share it with another person," Detective Nash replied, throwing a glance at the other desk in the room. "Here is the file," he shuffled over his desk and found it. 

"Why are you still so unorganized?" Sebastian asked, his brow scrunched up. He peered at the empty cup of coffee that had been left for at least a day on the desk and shook his head in disgust. 

"It is all in order, okay? You can't see it, but there is a pattern to this madness," he told us. Sebastian handed me the files and motioned me to go over it. I read through it and passed it to him. 

"He was one of the four high school boys who gang-raped a female classmate. The case never made it to court because two of the other boys had powerful parents. It was swept under the rug." I mulled over it. "There are multiple possibilities," I mumbled. 

"What do you think they are?" Sebastian asked. I saw him hold up a hand to stop Detective Nash from speaking. I gave him a small smile as I started to speak. 

"He was not an active member in the rape and just stood around watching them rape and kill her. He considered himself weak and unable to stop it from happening, so he is taking it out on others now that he has the power to doll out justice." 

I looked at the two men in approval. "That could be a possibility," Detective Nash said in a contemplative tone. "It's like in the group of bullies, it is one or two people who do the actual bullying while the other just stand around and watch it happen. With those other two having powerful parents, it must have made him feel inferior in the group. He might have felt invisible and unable to do anything, so he is expressing exhibitionism in his method of killing."

"Makes sense," Sebastian commented decisively. "What about the other options?"

I chuckled. "He was part of the group, he took part in it but feels an extreme level of guilt and is punishing others of the same crime that he wasn't punished for. He's too much of a coward to punish himself, so he, by punishing others, is recovering from his guilt." What a joke. 

"We can't ascertain which it is because the case files were not available. The evidence is confidential and we couldn't access it." Detective Nash wanted to throw something. 

"Now, during the interrogation, we will have to find out which one it is by talking to him about it," Sebastian glanced at me. I gave him a pointed look. "Nash, what do you think about giving my assistant a crash course on interrogation?" he asked, flashing the brightest smile I had seen on his face. 

Detective Nash turned to appraise me. "What do you think?" he asked. 

"I have great translation skills and can handle tense situations. I won't let you down." I bowed, hoping this would be enough. 

"You don't need to convince me. I'll let you in. Sebastian asked me for a favor, how can I say no?" he, too, grinned mischievously. "I'll trust his judgment."

I kept my head down, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. 

"Let's go over our strategy and signals so that we can coordinate effortlessly in the conversation," I said firmly. 

"Oh! You know collaborative interrogation technique!" Detective Nash exclaimed. 

"I did my research over the past couple of days because Sebastian informed me that he would bring me into an interrogation if the situation arose." Always better to be prepared. 

"Quite the girl scout, aren't you?" he joked. Over the next few hours, we tracked down the reactions we were looking for and how we're going to communicate. 

"You are familiar with the branched behavioral response, right?" Detective Nash asked suddenly. 

"Yes, multiple possibilities and reactions to them. It's what my mind goes to effectively."

And therefore, the time had come. Dean Stanley had arrived and he was waiting in the interrogation room. He had been offered a cup of coffee as per his preference and he was leisurely sipping on it. The police officers who had gone to his home had only summoned him and asked him to come at his own leisure. 

Detective Nash had been right to think that he would jump at the opportunity and follow the police immediately. He wanted to see what effect the murders had on people, he wanted to show off that they couldn't catch him. 

Therefore, his unbothered attitude was as we anticipated. 

"As a female, I can pull the weaker card, lack of rationality, and empathizing with the perpetrator because I know how sexual violence feels. He'll put his guard down and reveal some of his thoughts. We can use that to broach the topic of the previous case, what do you think?" I asked right before we entered. 

"Excellent idea," he grinned and patted me on the back. 

"I'll be in the other room, watching the interrogation live. Don't be nervous. You're going to kill it!" Sebastian encouraged. 

"That's not the right expression in this case," I grumbled before shooing him away and entering the interrogation room.

Dean Stanley passively glanced at us when we entered. I gave him a small smile, placing myself as the nicer and emotional interrogator as I sat across from him. The room wasn't too big, so, with three people, it was a little crowded. 

"Hey, I am Detective Nash and she is Detective Lewis," he said. I kept my face neutral. Detective Nash closed the door and finally sat down. "Detective Lewis was interviewing some of the other people who the victim last spoke to, so she joined in on the conversation."

"Do you mind if I go to the washroom?" he asked, shifting in his chair. I sent him a passing glance and saw a sliver of nervousness in it. Sitting in this silent room for ninety minutes would be monotonous. He must have been thinking about a thousand things and why he was called. The door opening should have been a relief to him. But now that there were two detectives in place of one, he would be on guard. 

Detective Nash controlled the situation beautifully. "Sure sure. Please go ahead. This is standard procedure. You don't need to stand on ceremony because of it," he said casually, his voice going a little higher, imitating a friendly neighbor who was giving you sugar and not the hardened detective that he was.

Detective Nash followed him out, giving me a pointed look over my shoulder. I quickly pulled out my phone and started scrolling through it, going along long enough to see him return and catch me scrolling through my phone at work. 

This, we had planned beforehand so that we could diminish how important the interrogation was. This way his guard would be down because he would think himself impenetrable. He would believe that this was the procedure and that the police didn't suspect him, so they were letting him do all of these and actually relaxing on the job. 

I looked up when they came in but kept looking at my phone. Detective Nash went out for a couple of minutes, leaving the door open. There was no one in the corridor, so Dean could see out. Detective Nash even handed out a bottle of water to him.

Detective Nash put on his glasses and pulled out a piece of paper so that he could start writing. I, on the other hand, put down my phone and started to look at the piece of paper in front of me. 

"We are just lining up witnesses who would have seen the victim so that we can pinpoint when he was taken. Okay?" Detective Nash said in a friendly voice. 

"Okay," Dean replied with a nod of his head. Double affirmation, I noted in my head. He was over-exaggerating his motions and words to compensate and look sincere in this situation. We went over his personal information and if he had taken any alcohol or drugs that day or the last. 

This was to clear out any chance that he could say that it was a false statement later on. 

We were covering all our bases. 

"I just had some meds for my headache, nothing else today," he informed us. 

"So, you knew him from work?" Detective Nash asked finally. 

The question was open-ended, giving Dean the opportunity to say whatever he wanted as he wanted. It is believed that people who have nothing to hide give short responses to such questions, whereas people who are hiding the truth or their intentions talk in circles to compensate for the truth that they cannot say. 

If Dean was not concerned about his answer or not guilty, he would answer in a short few sentences. 'I know him from work. He came to my shop to customize his car. We've known each other for x amount of time.' Simple. 

But Dean went into a long answer. This was because he was seeking approval. Guilty suspects will see the interrogator as an imminent threat and will attempt to appease this threat from further aggression. Someone who was not guilty would see the interrogator as a mere inconvenience.