I was accustomed to being in the interview room delivering the questions, not being in the firing line. I rubbed my hands up and down my trousers and measured my breaths while I waited for them to take their positions. DI Johns was there, bugger it, but avoided eye contact. There was also the big gun, the Southern District Commander, Ian Frederickson. Normally, one of the detective senior sergeants would conduct this, but they must have decided the situation warranted more power. I was getting the full treatment. Ian had interviewed me when I was under suspicion in Mataura, but despite the bad memories that brought back, he was what I classed a goodie. I hoped I wouldn’t be proven wrong. He started the proceedings.

‘Detective Constable, thank you for coming in for debrief. I hope you’ve had a chance to rest after this morning’s events. This interview is for the purposes of the station and is being recorded. Also, be aware that you will be questioned later for the Police Complaints Authority, as is standard for this kind of incident.’

I wasn’t aware that this kind of incident, as he put it, happened frequently enough for there to be a standard. It certainly hadn’t come up in any manual I’d seen. At least it appeared the District Commander would be asking the questions this afternoon rather than my arch-nemesis. The knot in my stomach loosened a little.

‘Did you wish to have any representation present?’

‘Is this a disciplinary hearing?’ I asked.

‘No, it is purely for the purposes of recording and reporting the incident. We have video footage, which will help verify the sequence of events, but as there was a firearm discharged and public safety put at risk we need to have a formal interview.’ He was being very proper in his language, but the tone of his voice and the relaxed nature of his posture told me this was no witch-hunt and my anxiety levels dropped another notch.

‘Then no, I don’t need any representation.’

‘Very good. Would you like to see the helicopter video footage?’

I couldn’t help the shudder and knew there was no way in hell I was ready to see that yet. ‘No thank you, sir. Maybe at a later date.’ Much, much later.

DI Johns still had not spoken and I noted he was sitting like someone had rammed a steel bar up his arse. My guess was Smithy had been true to his word about reporting his behaviour. Good. It was nice to see him looking so damned uncomfortable for a change.