Road Rage (Part 2)
Tracy Seeger
Click. Then, a whirring noise.
"Interview with Mr William Portia, Saturday 22nd April 2000, eleven forty-five am. Officers present, Detective Lowell and Detective Inspector Hazel. Would you please state your name and address for the record sir."
"William James Portia. 15 Openings Drive, Bristol."
Detective Lowell began taking notes on a big blank notebook. Detective Inspector Hazel did all the talking. "Okay Mr Portia. Would you please describe in your own words, the events of yesterday, Friday the 21st of April 2000, at the City Central Car Park, Bristol."
Bill adjusted his seat a little as he sat up straighter, then winced as the chair's feet screeched on the bare concrete floor. "Well, I was late for work, and I'd been driving round the car park for about fifteen minutes, trying to find a space. I eventually found one and I was just about to park, when this other car came out of nowhere and drove right into it!"
DI Hazel checked the slim file in front of him on the simple plastic table. "That would be Mr Phillip Oxford, the driver of the black BMW, registration T26 TLS."
"Yeh, apparently. I'd never seen him before, but that was the car alright."
"Okay sir. What happened next?"
"Well, I was pretty pissed off, as you can imagine. I sounded my horn, but he took no notice. So I got out of my car and went over to speak to him. He didn't even get out of his damn car. He just wound the window down, made some arrogant comment about being late, and wound it up again!" Bill's face began to flush as he recalled his anger.
"Could you try and remember his exact words please."
Bill scratched his cheek as he thought. "Erm, well, it was something like 'I'm late for work buddy, I'm sure you'll understand.' Something like that."
Detective Lowell noted it all down. "Okay. That's fine. How did you respond?"
Bill flushed again. "Well, I'll be honest, I was pretty wound up by then. But I could see there wasn't much I could do about it. I went back to my car, and took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down. I was going to turn the car around and look for another space. But he had parked that bloody BMW so piss poorly, and as I reversed I caught the back of my car on it." He looked down at his hands, and began picking at his bitten nails.
"How fast were you moving at that point Mr Portia?"
"I was barely moving at all. Just turning the car around like I said."
DI Hazel paused before responding, checking his file again. "There appeared to be quite a bit of damage to the back of both cars when we examined them, suggesting that you were moving faster that you claim." He paused again, looking directly at Bill, who became aware of the hum of the overhead fluorescent light for the first time. It sounded deafening in the silence, the small stone walls magnifying the sound. He looked down at his scuffed black shoes, and did not respond. "Why were you turning around by the way Mr Portia? The City Central Car Park has a one-way system. If you had turned around, surely you would have been going the wrong way?"
"Ahh, yes. Well, you see, I had spotted another space at the end of the row." Bill began to shuffle in his seat. "And I didn't want to have to go all the way round again." Tiny droplets of sweat began to form on his hairless forehead. "Because I knew some other bugger would get there first again. That's why."
Both the officers looked at Bill. "Okay, we'll come back to this later. Please describe what happened after you hit Mr Oxford's car."
Bill tried to appear casual as he wiped his palm across his forehead. His face relaxed a little, and the deep red colour was fading. "Well, he went a bit mental. He started shouting and screaming, and hitting the inside of his car with his fists. I got really scared."
"Why didn't you drive off?"
"Well, I had to see what damage I had done to his car didn't I. I mean, it was my fault, I was going to own up to it." The droplets began to pop out again. A whistle blew somewhere just outside the room, and Bill jumped violently.
The officers appeared undisturbed. "But you didn't?"
"Didn't?"
"Didn't get out of your car and own up to hitting Mr Oxford's Car."
"Well, as I said, the way he was acting, it scared the shit out of me. I was going to drive off then and leave him to it, but my damn car had stalled. It's, getting old. And it's always doing that." The officers appeared unimpressed. "Anyway, the next thing I know, he's slammed his car door open, this Mr Oxford, he's jumped out, and he's standing at the back of my car pointing a fucking gun at me! I mean, what a psycho!"
"Okay sir. What did you do then?"
Bill's voice rose perceptively. "What do you think I did? I ducked! Then the next thing I heard was a gunshot. Well, I knew he hadn't fired at the car, so I thought it was a warning shot or something. So I stayed down."
"How long did you stay there for?"
Hours. "It felt like forever, but I guess it was only a minute or two. Eventually I opened the car door a crack and peeked out. That's when I saw him."
"Please describe exactly what you saw."
Bill's face was now almost the same colour of the walls of the interview room, pale and dull. "Well, he was laying there, on the floor by the back of the car. His head was a mess, and there was blood everywhere." Bill felt his stomach turn over for about the thousandth time since he had first seen that sight the day before. "I couldn't believe it. I mean, why would he do that?"
DI Hazel did not answer the question. "What did you do next?"
"Well, um, I think I just sat there for a couple of minutes. Then I heard this woman scream. That sort of woke me up. I yelled at her to go get an ambulance. Then about five minutes after that you guys showed up."
DI Hazel waited for Detective Lowell to finish writing. "Okay, good. Before we end this session Mr Portia, is there anything else you'd like to add?"
Bill felt the room began to spin a little, as he realised this ordeal was nearly over. "Ahh, no, I don't think so."
DI Hazel paused again and looked sternly at Bill, who gripped the edge of the table and wished the room would settle down. His breakfast was beginning to climb back up his gut. "Right. We'll leave it at that for now then, but we'll need to talk to you again soon. Interview ended at twelve-thirty pm."
Click.
Copyright © 2009 Tracy Seeger. All rights reserved.