15The two police detectives sat across the interview table from Jed, Sullivan, looking crumpled, and a fresh-faced ginger-haired detective sporting crisply ironed shirt, immaculately pressed jacket and sensible tie. He seemed keen, in direct contrast to Sullivan whose eyes smouldered under heavy, brooding brows.
“April 14, nineteen seventy-one, Detective Sergeant Thomas Sullivan and DC Nolan, Wallasey CID. It is…” Nolan pulled back his cuff and peered at his watch, “8.52 am. Interview with Jethroe Meres, known as Jed. Mr Meres has refused legal representation. Is that correct, Mr Meres?”
Jed nodded.
“You have to speak, Mr Meres. For the tape.”
“For the tape?” Jed spat back, voice laced with sarcasm. He sat back, smirking. “That's right, I don't need legal representation – I haven't don
