already, and Murphy hadn’t broken a sweat. It had become clear to David, that Murphywas one of those people that, when in power, did everything and anything to abuse theirposition of authority, just to get what they wanted. David deeply resented this sort of person – largely because he had always followed orders from such tyrants, but he refusedto today.Murphy was fixating his eyes on David, trying to “gaze into his soul”. He thought, maybedoing this will get me
something
. It was Murphy’s father, Hiram Murphy Senior, (whohad been a man of many words, but little action) who had inculcated within him thefervor to perform such crazy attempts to get answers and meaning from other people.David wondered what the hell the cop was doing, as Murphy stared him down. YetMurphy lay unfazed and continued to watch him, trying not to blink, all the time thinking“Give me something kid, come one, make my job easier” It was to no avail, David justthought Murphy had gone as crazy as he had earlier. Then Murphy, like a stone statue,kept steady with the same position, his two hands on the table, firmly holding on to hiszombie gaze, and then started drifting into oblivion, and that was when he rememberedhis father.It was in that stupor that Murphy remembered his father’s expressions in great detail, andamongst the set of sayings, his favorite: “Only a true man can gaze into someone’s soul.”It was this same quote that had propelled Murphy to join the police force, for he hadalways searched far and wide for the opportunity to exercise that ability, and here it was.This crazy man, David, was his opportunity to prove this ability, to himself. H. MurphyJr. had tried for years to be a true man, and had often exercised the practice that camewith being one – yet he had failed, according to his own sound judgment. Now, he wastrying to redeem himself and prove everyone wrong. He was completely certain he wasgoing to start to get some answers. He had to, it was necessary now.Murphy lifted his hands from the table, leaving two wet marks behind. He looked at hispalms and sighed.David had refused to comply with the threats, the physical assaults, and the mental duressquite well. And then, after much torture, not so much experienced by the victim (forDavid was quite good at tolerating pain), but as felt by the policemen themselves –Murphy had had it. If the crazed man wasn’t going to speak, he might as well write. Thepen was right in front of David, and Murphy held it in place, letting go after his prisonerhad finally taken a glance at it. As he did, Murphy looked at his own arms, andremembered his physical self. He had the habit of forgetting who and where he was wheninterrogating prisoners, yet his arms were clearly visible under the strong white light, and
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