May pushed it open, and they found themselves in a tiny lobby, with a change room on the side, and a box full of overalls, gloves, and boots on the other wall. This was clearly where the workers got dressed to prepare for their shift.
There was nobody in the room, but already May could pick up the scent of fresh blood, emanating from the larger room beyond.
It was time to go in and confront Tim Walters.
May pushed open the door, feeling nervous about what lay beyond. Being in a slaughterhouse was not the ideal place to interview a suspect who might possibly turn violent. She knew that she and Owen had to be ready for anything. May had experienced incidents in the past when a suspect's control suddenly cracked, and they stopped being who they pretended to and became who they really were.
She didn't want that to happen in this environment.
May felt relieved when she pushed open the next door, to see that the area looked clean and neat. This might be a small slaughterhouse, but it seemed to be well-managed. Even so, the scream of blades and cutting equipment in the background felt like a shrill reminder that this was a place that dealt in death.
As soon as they walked in, one of the white-overalled workers turned and rushed up to them.
"Good morning, good morning. I'm so sorry but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We don't allow visitors in here."
"We're police," May explained. "And we're here to interview one of your workers, to get information on a recent crime."
Now the worker looked worried. "Which person would that be?" he asked.
"Tim Walters."
"Tim? He's in the next room, the butchery room." The worker paused, assessing the situation. "Look, you can go through and speak to him if you're able to be quick. I don't want to interfere with a murder investigation and delay you, but also, he is on shift, and I don't want to ask him to clock out unless he has to."
"Understood," May said. "We'll be as quick as we can."
The door that the worker had indicated was to the left. She hurried up to it and pushed it open.
Inside, she saw Tim immediately, as he was the only person in the small annex next door. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair piled tightly underneath the plastic cap he was wearing. But his mouth looked tight and unfriendly.
He had a sharp-looking carving knife in his hand and was busy working on a rack of ribs on the steel table.
When the door opened, he turned to them.
There was blood on his apron, and May saw a distinctly suspicious look in his eye.
"Tim Walters?" she asked, stepping forward, making sure to appear calm and confident, and not reveal her unease.
"That's me," he said, in a tone that sounded casual, but May could pick up the tension that now lurked in his voice and his demeanor.
"We're here to question you about Hayley Meakin," May said.
Now, his eyes positively flashed with anger. "Talk to someone who knows her. I barely knew her," he snapped.
May took a step forward. She was not accepting a brush off, or lies, from this man.
"According to her family, you are her very caring boyfriend," she said.
May saw Tim's hand clench the knife harder.
"Her family is wrong," he said. "She and I were not dating each other." As he stared between her and Owen, May sensed his anger building.
“Why would her family lie?” May pressured him, knowing that it might push him over the edge, but feeling that right now, she needed a reaction from him, even if it caused his violent nature to be revealed. “I don’t think her family would lie to the police about something so important, after losing their daughter.”
"I don't want to talk to you and I have nothing to say," he snarled.
“We need answers, and we’re police. This is a murder case. We need you to be honest with us,” May reasoned, but she felt all she was doing was ramping up Tim’s anger.
“I am being honest,” he shot back through gritted teeth.