Murder In The Dark
an excerpt

The room was claustrophobically small - a few square feet. The grey walls and grungy carpet were sombre, but the canary yellow plastic chairs provided an odd burst of colour. As I took a seat, easing myself onto the plastic chair, a glimmer of sunlight shone through the murky window at the top of the wall, creating a line of sunlight across the ceiling that illuminated the ugly water stains and holes in the plaster squares. I sighed, resting my heavy head on my cold, moist palm.
‘Just tell me everything, son. From the days before the incident to now. Everything that might matter. Might prove you guilty...or...not’, he said the last sentence loudly, taunting me, dropping his voice at the last part as though he knew I were guilty. Thing is, I damn well wasn’t. The stony silence was broken a few seconds later by the grating click as the inspector flipped the recorder to ON.