Yaxley peered in through the spy-hole of the Interview room door and turned to Dave 'Stumpy' Stumpsfield. 'Is he stewing nicely in there Stumps?' he asked. 'Yep' replied the sergeant, 'Like a cup of signalman's tea'. Morgan was pacing the floor and appeared to be haranguing the PC that had been left to look after him. The PC stared straight ahead and was apparently oblivious to Morgan's requests for a solicitor, a cup of tea and a phone call. Morgan sat down heavily in the wooden chair and ran his hands through his thinning hair. 'Righto Stumpy' said Farcett. 'Nice Cop- Nasty Cop time. Which do you prefer ?' Stumpsfield smiled. 'Oh Yaxley. I've never had a chance to do this. I'm not sure. Which do you want ?' Farcett frowned and replied, 'C'Mon Stumps, this isn't a bloody parlour game. What do want to do...nice or nasty ?' Another decisionless pause caused Farcett to say 'I think you'd better be 'nice' don't you ?' Stumpsfield nodded. 'Ok Yaxley...I think you're better at being nasty than me'. Farcett assumed his Clint Eastwood drawl and snarled 'You better freakin' believe it !' as he kicked the door open on a startled Morgan. 
Yaxley strode into Interview Room number one, known to CID locally as 'The Kitchen' because of all the villains they had grilled in there. The walls were painted a dull grey and the only furniture was a battered old wooden table and two chairs. The table was marked with a thousand stubbed out cigarettes and insults scratched onto the surface. Farcett inclined his head to indicate to the young PC that his presence wasn't required any more and he turned to face Cedric Morgan. As soon as the door shut, Morgan opened his mouth to speak and Yaxley, like a gunslinger, shoved a cigarette 
packet into Morgan's mouth. 'Right' hissed Yaxley leaning across the table, 'Don't think you have any rights because you haven't. No brief, no phone call, no cups of tea until I get the truth. You're not dealing with the regular force here. I'm Farcett of the Drainage Division and we operate on the edges of the law in pursuit of the truth'. Not bad he thought for something he'd just made up. '...And no taped interview either. The only tape in this room is my 20 Disco Chartbusters' and just to prove it he took it out of his pocket and slotted it into the top pocket of Morgan's jacket, disrupting the perfect folding of the neatly positioned handkerchief. 'Listen to it later', he said, 'It might slacken your stiff arse !' Stumpsfield, having now had full view of Yaxley's nastiness stepped forward. Farcett got up, turned his back on Morgan and winked at Stumpy. Stumpsfield coughed with embarrassment and said meekly, 'Y'awlright then Mr.Morgan ?' as nicely as he could. Morgan's eyes bulged and his jaws clamped down on the cigarette packet. Unfortunately, the more he tried to protest, the further the cigarettes entered his mouth. He pulled the packet out and spat out showers of tobacco and paper before shouting, 'My God ! My God ! He's an animal Dave....where did you get him from ?' He was just about to add that he would complain to his MP when he remembered that he was his MP and he pointed at Farcett's back, 'I told you before boy..I know the Chief Inspector. You'll never work again !
This has been the biggest mistake of your lousy life !' Stumpy leaned in towards Morgan and mumbled, 'D'you fancy tea or coffee. Yew look a bit dry', as flakes of tobacco flew from Morgans lips and chin as he continued to rail at the back of Farcett. 'We've got some hob-nobs as well' added Stumpsfield, wondering if he was being nice enough.
'Bugger off Dave...Just Bugger off !' shouted Morgan. 'What's wrong with him', he complained, jabbing an angry finger at Farcett's back. Yaxley completed his inspection of the wall and turned round to face Morgan. He took three steps towards him and then circled behind him. As he turned his head to see what Farcett was doing, Yaxley grabbed Morgan's ears and held him there, so he could only face forward. The more Morgan struggled, the harder Yaxley twisted the politician's lugholes. 'You're mad' screamed the politician, hands now trying to drag Yaxley's fingers off his ears. 'You cannot do this ! You cannot ! It's 1998. You cannot attack an innocent man like this ! Stumpsfield Do Something' he shouted. Stumpy looked at Farcett and saw him grin and shake his head before giving Morgan's ears another twist. 'No can do, Cedric' said Stumpy. 'This is a Drainage Squad matter. I can only act on DI Farcett's instructions....Did you say you took sugar or not ??' Farcett let go of Morgan's ears and sat back down across the table from Morgan. 'I spoke to that gormless script writer cum accountant of yours earlier' he said. 'He said he had breakfast with you, but that wasn't until much later than eight o'clock. You've lied to the people of Barnham about Thompson's Wood and you're lying about where you were on Friday morning...Aren't you ?'
Morgan put his head in his hands. 'You know about all that do you ? Dixon's papers I suppose ?' Farcett nodded. 'I know most of it'. 'Ok..'said Morgan. 'I was at my girlfriend's flat in Cambridge until half past eight. I caught the train to Ealham and Lancaster picked me up'. Yaxley smiled, 'Good. Now we're getting somewhere', and he kicked Morgan on the shin. Quite nastily.
