##Chapter 7: The Interview

The ride back to the DA's office was silent. The guard made no effort to engage her, and for it, Abigail was grateful.

Barington hadn't outlined all that would be discussed in the meeting. Merely explained that he'd gotten into contact with an officer assigned to the task force who'd been following the hitman's trail for years. He expected her to garner as much information about the hitman's activities as possible from this detective.

Abigail despised being unprepared for things. It made her, and the office itself, seem uncoordinated at best, or unprofessional at worst.

Her pocket buzzed. It was a text from Elaine asking if she had time to speak.

The Holidays were under strict orders to cease communications. She could see no reason why she and Elaine could not speak at all, though.

Me 4:56 P.M: I am available. Was there something else you needed clarification on?

Elaine 4:56 P.M: I'll call you. Don't want to txt whl driving.

Me 4: 57 P.M: Very well.

She cradled the phone, scooting the chair back as far as it could go so she could slide into the backseat.

It did not take long after that for Elaine to respond. "Hello, Miss Roberts. I did not expect to hear from you so soon."

She could hear the sounds of packages being shifted around, a small conversation happening on the other end of the line.

"Yeah, it should all be in there. If you need anything else, just text me, and I'll run to grab it! Ah, yeah. Hey there, Abigail. I was just wondering how Grace and Gina had settled in is all."

She was incredibly persistent, Abigail granted her that much. "You must know I cannot divulge this information to you."

The disappointment was clear in the silence that came. "You can't even talk about how they're doing? What possible harm could you telling me possibly pose to your case?"

The idea did sound quite silly when said aloud, but the rule was in place for a reason.

"Because then my integrity as a lawyer could come into question. If people are unable to trust my word, then anything I say in defense of the client will be put into suspicion. I know it sounds cruel, but this really is the best thing for Gina and for Grace overall."

The courtroom could be a vicious place. If the client, or anyone else for that matter, did not understand this then it was her job as a lawyer to ensure that they did. There had to be similar precautions taken in the world of social work.

"I assure you, if I could talk to you about their wellbeing I would do so. I must ask, is there not a way for you to understand my position, Miss Roberts? I assume the confidentiality of your client is the most important thing you value."

A turn signal drowned out all other sounds. Abigail wondered what she was doing. Did her job often require her to drive about? They might not be able to speak of the case, but perhaps time could be spent learning each other's professions?

"Yes, it is. Which is why I would like to propose a compromise."

The tone of Elaine's voice was the same as when she had asked for her number. She would need to keep on her guard.

"What is this compromise?"

There were some kind of jars being moved around. Various jam and jelly flavors were listed off. Abigail made a note to ask if delivering food was a common occurrence and how she could help ease the burden.

"So you can't talk about the case directly. But, hypothetically speaking… if I had a mutual friend with you named, oh, let's say... Harley. Harley is in some dire situation and had to go on vacation. Would it be alright to ask how she's doing? I mean this is all a coincidence, of course."

Abigail wished she could ease the other woman's mind. She could hear the pleading in her voice to just give her an iota of hope. She wasn't asking for anything majorly impactful to the case but….

"I'm sorry, Elaine. Even if we were to use hypotheticals, it would still be violating my clients', and your client by proxy, rights to a fair trial in this particular case. There is no feasible way for me to tell you what you wish to know."

The sigh on the other end made her heart clench. It sounded so defeated and sad.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you while you're working. I know you have to be really busy. If I need anything else, I'll try and get a hold of you. I'll do my best to make sure it's not work related next time. Or at least not this case related, anyway. I'll talk to you later, Abigail."

She tried to speak but the line died.

Such failure could not be tolerated. She would find a way to make this up to Elaine.

The car pulled into the parking lot, and she thanked the officer, giving her money to call for a cab. There was no time to be wasted now.

The office of the district attorney was no different than the surrounding buildings. It was thirty-five stories high, with navy windows partitioned in rows of six across its exterior walls. Each floor held a different function, and the space was shared among five businesses; seven if you counted the two eateries on level thirty.

Her personal quarters were on floor thirty-four. The elevator was always slow to arrive. Today, she did not mind.

She thought back on everything that had transpired and tapped her phone screen, fiddling with the keyboard. She did not want to leave things in so awkward a place. Elaine had only been trying to do her job, and the dedication was admirable.

She would ask Barington if Elaine could be brought onto the case as a witness. Then she would be able to have as much information as she liked. She had been present for parts of the Holidays' assessment of Bobby Holiday. If nothing else, she could be a character witness.

***

Her door was ajar, the guest chair occupied by a man with braided, black hair. His police uniform was neatly pressed, differentiated from his fellows by the stripes denoting his rank and the sigils of various religious saints pinned to his lapels.

He stood when she entered, offering a small nod when she motioned for him to return to his seat.

"You must be Abigail. I've heard so much about you from Mr. Barington. My name is Daniel Swanson. I'm a detective with the special victims unit. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Reaching into a lower drawer on her desk, she pulled out a small black box with wires extending from both sides. She laid it out on the table, making sure the wire with the mic was as close to Daniel as she could get it.

"I'm looking forward to working with you on this case. Do you mind if I record this conversation? I'm going to need as much information as you can possibly give, and I don't wish to waste your time asking you to repeat details."

The man nodded, so Abigail plugged the device into her computer, pressing record, making sure the audio was working correctly before settling back into her chair.

"I am aware of what the news reports and court documents detail about his activities. I would like to know the truth of these statements. Please tell me, what is the nature of Mr.Holiday's crimes?"

Daniel seemed to think for a moment, running his hands along the rim of his chair arms.

"Bobby Holiday is a repeat predator and serial murder. His targets are children for reasons unknown. He is particularly fond of children between the ages of six and nine. As far as we are aware, there is no sexual motive. He simply brutally strips the child of their skin and organs."

The reports never specified that he focused on children. She had hoped the description Gina gave had been a singular occurrence.

"What can you tell me about the methodology Mr. Holiday employs in his killings?"

Daniel closed his eyes as he spoke. "He chooses his targets from school albums collected from the city dump. He focuses on children in foster care or those who have turbulent home lives. He follows them to learn their schedule and family connections, sometimes for weeks at a time. He details all this into notebooks--"

The man's hand clenched at the chair arms until they creaked.

"--He then appears at the victim's home, claims to know the child's caretakers, and has signed notes by them saying they should come with him. He then takes them back to a secret location to kill and dismember them. He leaves the skulls around town, with…messages telling us where to find the rest."

Abigail forced her voice to remain steady. "Does he have any known gang connections?"

The detective nodded, reaching to touch one of the saint sigils, rubbing at it with his fingers. "We know he works on contract with the group Aster-19. They're notorious child traffickers. They take kids from high profile clients and ransom them. If the ransom demand isn't met, they get Bobby Holiday to… incentivize the guardians by sending them body parts. Usually by way of mail delivery."

Mail… didn't Grace say something about… oh… oh God….

"How did you discover the evidence listed in the court documents?"

"We received a tip of suspicious activity in the Holidays' residence. Upon entering the house, we immediately searched every room."

Daniel leaned forward slightly, retrieving a file filled with photographs and paperwork, and a clear plastic bag filled with various knives and tweezers from behind his back. The implements were soaked in darkened liquid and had thin strands of hair attached in various places.

"The items you see here, labeled evidence 34G, are what we found inside Mr. Holiday's bedroom closet."

Abigail kept her eyes trained on the paperwork, reading the same passages over and over. "Are there any ways to identify a killing done by Bobby Holiday as opposed to some other serial killer?"

He opened the file and laid the photographs across the desk. The images were… gruesome. "The items were found to be the same tools used to make the wounds found on the victims. You asked about identifying markers? See the cross hatching on the victims' faces, torsos, and feet? He likes making them into cross hair patterns. It's why we started calling them the hitman."

She studied the patterns for a moment before tapping the box to make the recording pause. "I think that's all the questions I have for you today. Thank you so much for your time, Detective. If I require any other information, or have need of your services, I'll be sure to get in contact with you."

Daniel smiled and extended his hand, which she took and shook as firmly as she could.

After hearing the doors for the elevator close, Abigail promptly leaned over and heaved the contents of her lunch into the wastebasket.

How in God's name could anyone be so cruel? What was the purpose of such actions? What had these children done to deserve such fates?

Knowing the facts of a case was easy enough to digest. They were words on a page. The brutality of the photographs and the sheer vivacity of the detective's descriptions was what made her stomach roil.

If Mrs. Holiday and Grace had truly bore witness to these details. If God forbid, Grace had been forced to carry around body parts unknowingly?

Was it truly fair of her to ask them to recount everything? Could anyone be expected to recall such sordid actions in crystal clear detail without proper training?

Could such a man… be stopped in his efforts?

What if Elaine had been right? By bringing them back had she exposed the Holidays to unforeseen tragedy?

What if not allowing Elaine to speak with them, even in passing hypotheticals, their last sentiments would be that the social worker had abandoned them?

No. There was no place for doubts now. What's done is done.

Their location was secured and remote. They were well guarded.

"I'll… have to make sure to give them extra time to prepare for this. Recommend state sponsored counseling for the both of them after this trial is over and done. It's the least we could do for having them… relive all this."

Dabbing at her lips, she reached for the tape recorder.

She was going to make d**n sure Mr. Holiday never saw the light of day again.