Hatter's Riddle

It was on Tuesday the fifth of March at 5:30 pm that Gary Thomson lying on a hospital bed died of blood loss. He had been found that morning on the steps of strathclyde police department unconscious. A knife had been thrust into his stomach to hold in place a note which asked the police to “refrain from sending any more under cover officers.” The last words he spoke were “Mad Hatter.”

Detective Peterson placed his elbows on the table “tell me” he instructed his suspect. There was not a shadow of a doubt in his mind that the person sitting across the table from him was guilty. The girl raised her head. Peterson gave a sharp intake of breath, if someones eyes are the windows to their soul, this girl hasn’t got one he thought. For her eyes held nothing, not a single emotion.

                                                                      “Tell you what?” another shock, her voice was barely above a whisper. She’s good but not good enough, he pulled out photographs taken from CCTV footage from the file by his side and one by one placed them on the table. “Okay then. How about I tell you what I think happened and you can correct me if I go wrong?” The girl sat up in her chair and tilted her head to one side waiting for him to begin.

“Well, first you’d of had to gain entrance. Now you could have done that in two ways. Either you managed to hack into the password protection on the main entrance ...or you climbed to the top of the domestic building next to it and jumped the gap. So the question is, are you really smart or, fearless?

“Then you would have had to make your way to the main office. For that you’d need prior knowlege of the buildings layout. How you came about this information we’re not sure. When you reached the main office you had to find the correct files, right?” he paused perhaps waiting for an answer. None came.

“Well, finding the files couldn’t have been easy, that computer system was under maximum secrity gridlock. But somehow you did. You know the company is still quite annoyed that you managed to hack into it. Mind you it’s understandable, that kind of technology must have cost a pretty penny. I mean I talked to there security specialists and they didn’t have a clue. Apparently they were afraid they were going to lose their jobs. Poor guys, start to wonder what this world is coming to when a grown man is afraid of his boss.” Again he paused, as if waiting for some sign of sympathy from the girl. If he was it never came and he continued with his summary of events.

“After you had got the information, you then walked away. However on your way out you set off an alarm, which automatically called us. Now all we want to know is who has the information.”

The detctive leaned back in his chair satisfied. He may not have the authority to sentence her to await a court hearing, or even to hold her much longer but his gut told him, he’d get a confession out of her. Then he could get back to a important case. A blackmarket dealer was far more important that an irritated law firm. And they had a new lead, not a good one, but still. Mad Hatter, he had heard some weird names in his time but this one stood out. What whould make a blackmarket dealer, one who was known to operate in the whole of Scotland,( as well as some dealings throughout the rest of Britain) use a name from a childrens book.

She was starring at him and he raised his eyes to meet hers. If this was the way it was going to be then fine. Peterson didn’t know how long they sat like that, it could have been over an hour but finally she said “Is that the reason I’m here?” He frowned, did that mean she had commited other crimes or that she was just acting dum again? He was going to have her convicted but there was that small problem of the information. It couldn’t have just vanished. That didn’t matter, she would crack, it was just a matter of time. The detective glanced at his watch, time he didn’t have. They would have to release her soon. “You know, you remind me of my Dad.” The surprise must have shown on his face because she smiled “Ye’, he didn’t like me either” The girl lifted her hand to push a single stray curl out of her eyes “mind you, I do look an awful lot like my Mum, maybe that’s why.” She shrugged. The floresent lights of the interigation room made her look even paler than she had been when they had first arrested her. She looked sickly, her thiness probably didn’t help. Suddenly Peterson had the urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything was going to be okay. He didn’t. It would not have been professional.

There was a knock at the door and Sargent Thomson stepped into the room. Detective Peterson sighed. Time-up. It was over. Maybe he was losing his touch, maybe she was innocent after all. There was a boy waiting for her, he was tall with thick dark hair; a complete contrast to the girl. Silently she filled out her release form.

As they walked down the street the boy reached into his bag and handed her a folder full of sheets of paper and held closed with an elasticband. Peterson had a bad feeling; he glanced down at the form. Name: Madaline Hatter. The Detective had a really bad feeling about this. He returned his gase to the street but they were gone.