Prince of Hazel and Oak

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Detective Fallon seemed to have given up on shouting.

‘I’ve seen people get off by claiming insanity,’ he said, sitting back in his chair. ‘Conor, you ain’t doing it right.’

‘So you don’t think I’m crazy then?’ I asked.

‘Oh, I think you’re plenty crazy but not insane.’

‘Aren’t they synonyms?’

‘Not in my thesaurus. If you want to get off by reason of insanity you have to be a nutcase all the time, you know, with the drooling and the swatting at imaginary bats. You, on the other hand, kill your father and then act completely normal – except for claiming that Daddy was attacked by Imps and Pixies from Faerieland.’

‘Tir na Nog,’ I corrected.

‘Sorry, from Tir na Nog.’

‘And there are no Pixies in Tir na Nog.’

‘Look, O’Neil’ – Detective Fallon leaned in and I could see he was inches away from returning to shouting mode – ‘you’ve been arrested for murder. They’ve got a death penalty in this state.’

‘I didn’t kill my father – honest. If I killed him where’s the body? If there is no body there can’t be a murder.’

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