Anthrax felt as though the carpet had been pulled out from beneath his
feet. He needed a few minutes to clear his head.
`Is it something I can think over and discuss?' Anthrax asked.
`Yes. Do you want to have a pause and a talk with your father? The
constable and I can step out of the room, or offer you another room.
You may wish to have a break and think about it if you like. I think
it might be a good idea. I think we might have a ten-minute break and
put you in another room and let you two have a chat about it. There is
no pressure.'
Day and the Sexton stopped the interview and guided father and son
into another room. Once they were alone, Anthrax looked to his father
for support. This voice inside him still cried out to keep away from
his earlier hacking journeys. He needed someone to tell him the same
thing.
His father was definitely not that someone. He railed against Anthrax
with considerable vehemence. Stop holding back. You have to tell
everything. How could you be so stupid? You can't fool the police.
They know. Confess it all before it's too late. At the end of the
ten-minute tirade, Anthrax felt worse than he had at the beginning.
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