The Less You Know

By Devika Hardikar

The dimly lit room echoed with the hollow sound of heels slapping against the floor as Detective Laura Mitchell entered, her sharp gaze fixed on the lone figure seated at the stainless steel table. The overhead light cast a harsh glow on the cold, expressionless face of the suspect, Richard Harris, a young soul who had always been spotted with a cigar and light green eyes that could make any woman swoon. A man implicated in a series of mysterious disappearances that had plagued the city for months. 

Laura, with her worn leather jacket and a subtle air of authority, took a seat across from Richard. The air was charged with tension, and the silence seemed to reverberate with the weight of unspoken secrets. 

"Richard," Laura began, her voice steady and measured, "we've been through this dance before. But this time, we have evidence. Witnesses. It's time to end the charade." 

Richard remained stoic, his eyes locked on a point somewhere beyond Laura's shoulder. The only hint of emotion was a subtle twitch in his jaw, betraying the turmoil within. He knew she was smart. His charms never had an effect on her. 

Laura leaned forward, palms pressed against the cool metal of the table. "You were seen at the scene, Richard. Witnesses put you there. We found your prints. Your DNA. It's a match." 

A flicker of a smirk played on Richard's lips, as if he found the accusations amusing. "People see what they want to see," he replied, his voice calm and devoid of emotion. 

Laura's eyes narrowed. She knew this game – the psychological chess match that suspects often tried to play. "Richard, we know you're involved. We know you're connected to the disappearances. What's your angle?" 

The room seemed to constrict, as if the walls were closing in. Richard leaned back, his eyes never leaving Laura's. "Detective. You’re frustrated which can only mean you can't prove anything," he said, his voice low and deliberate. 

Laura sighed, her frustration barely concealed this time. She reached into a folder, withdrawing photographs of the missing individuals – faces frozen in time, haunting reminders of the void left behind. She slid the pictures across the table.

"These people had families, Richard. Lives. They deserve justice. Tell me what you know," Laura implored. 

Richard's gaze flickered over the photographs, but his expression remained unchanged. The room hung in suspense, the ticking of a clock on the wall echoing the passage of time. 

Finally, Richard broke the silence. "You think you can understand, Detective? You can't. There are things out there – things beyond your comprehension. I'm just a pawn." 

Laura leaned back, her eyes wavering ever so slightly. “A pawn in what, Richard? Who are you protecting?" 

Richard's eyes gleamed with an enigmatic intensity. His scowl morphed into a malignant grin. "You're in over your head, Detective. The less you know, the safer you'll be." 

“Are you in danger?” 

“No, you are.” 

The interrogation room, filled with unanswered questions, left Laura grappling with the realisation that the mysterious disappearances were merely the surface of a much deeper, darker truth. As the door closed behind her, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just scratched the surface of a sinister web woven from the threads of the unknown.

By Devika Hardikar