“Witnesses observed a boy of similar description to you coming out of the hotel in a hurry. Other witnesses had seen boys like you hanging around out the front of the station. A few had seen kids heading into the car park entrance,” Detective McEwan said, slopping a cup of tea down on the table in front of me. “I decided to snoop around and see what cropped up. I guess the police had the same ideas.”
I tried to focus on McEwan, but the red walls in the interrogation room made it difficult to focus on anything. I picked up the Styrofoam cup and tried to drink some tea. It tasted like someone had mixed coffee into it too. He had asked me a question.
“Were you in the hotel that evening?”
Should I wait and see if they had any way of proving I was there or confess all and save them the troub
