He arrived at last, bustling through the dimly lit corridor. Outside, the day was overcast. Things hadn’t been any different inside. She was already in the interrogation room, gazing intently at the corner of the window pane, lost in her own thoughts. The approaching footsteps didn’t seem to make an effect on her. Even if they did, she wasn’t the one to show.
“About damn time!” The guard stomped out in exasperation.
She chose not to look at him and he chose not to respond.
He hustled in, placed his briefcase on the table, took out three clear files, some papers and a Parker pen. He arranged his chair so as to sit right opposite to her. He flung over some papers, rather impetuously, peeked a quick glance at her; her still eyes fixed on the window pane. He touched the knot of his tie, and cleared his throat for helpless attention as if to signal the beginning of the session.
“Haven’t been sleeping, have ya?” He raised his brow. He didn’t want to start off rude.
“I was quite excited to see you.” She turned her head towards him. Neither her blank eyes, nor her stiff words meant what she said.
“That’s kind of you.” He smiled apathetically. “So, let’s begin?” He leaned his hands against the table. She shrugged, still indifferent.
“Do you want to smoke? You can if you want-”
“I don’t smoke” She cut him off, eyes again on the window pane.
“It says right here that you do.” He pointed at the file in his hand, showing her where exactly. She didn’t look.
“I have been inside for a year. Do you think the people here are as generous as you?”
“Hmm. Fair enough! ‘S-t-o-p-p-e-d S-m-o-k-i-n-g’” He spelled out as he wrote this new information on the file. She looked at him in disgust.
He appeared satisfied in invoking ‘something’ out of her. “Well…” He sat back in the chair, arms folded. “You know why I am here.”
“You were here last week too.”
“Why, is the question.”
“Oh! Is it? Enlighten me, then!”
He sighed. “The bureau thinks you were involved in the murder of Lizzavetta Phaina,”
“Like I said before, it was the food and her alcohol. Nearly killed me too!”
“…along with Nixhiten Hendbair.”
“Wow! The list gets longer every time. You forgot George Harrison. I killed him too.” She spoke in the same indifferent tone.
‘…soft spoken, commanding presence, always maintains composure, could get manipulative’, He recalled. “No, he died of cancer.”
“Oh really?” She scoffed.
“If you confess to your crimes, it’s going to be much easier-”
“WHAT FUCKING CRIMES?” She almost screamed. The cuffs on her hands rattled against each other as if asking the same question.
Awesome! “There are evidences that prove you were there at the exact time of the murder.” He gathered some papers and placed them neatly on the desk.
“At least a hundred people must have been there at the time of the murder. And besides, wasn’t Gary the Oldman declared guilty for Hendbair?”
“He was a suspect, yes. The investigation was almost closed after he got arrested. But, you see, we came across some new insights regarding this case.” He lifted his fore finger and scratched his head. “…and Gary died in his cell, last night.”
“Did I kill him too?”
He scoffed. “Heart attack. A poetic one, actually. Apparently, his last words were ‘I didn’t kill Hendbair’. ”
“Should I be laughing at this?” She spread her hands in exasperation as far as the cuffs would allow.
“I don’t give a damn if you do. Let’s talk about the case in hand.” He opened up one of the files. “In your interrogation regarding Hendbair’s case, you said you were ‘at home’ during the time of the murder and you had no alibi.”
“Well cop, if I remember correctly, I had said that I ‘might have been at home but I don’t remember very well.’ ” She spoke in a pretentious tone.
He had to smile. “But you were there. People have testified against you. Report is that, a woman of your description, was there smoking and arguing with Nixhiten Hendbair. I wonder if you have any clue.” He raised a brow.
“It could have been me.”
“What were you doing at Gary Oldman’s that night?”
“What does anyone do in a pub?” She returned to her window corner.
“Let me rephrase…” He was growing tired of her languidness. “What does a murderer do in a pub?” He leaned in closer, his elbows on the table, with fingers crossed against each other to support his chin, “Your former victim was in a pub the night he died, wasn’t he? The reason you are here, in this filthy place?”
She remained silence. Her gaze shifted from the window pane to his eyes. Her face was blank…almost innocent, almost believable.
“Let me tell you what I think happened.” He stood up with an air of confidence, the evidence file in his hand, “You were after Nixhiten all along. May be even before your assumed first murder.” He quoted the ‘assumed’ and sneaked a glance at her. Still indifferent. Taking long strides along the room, he continued, “The charming boss, a womanizer, who suddenly moved on from you to your rival, the gorgeous Lizzavetta. Jealousy and hatred peaked when they announced their marriage. Then, you seduced him to come and see you in the country pub. You thought it would be a silent affair. You’d take him to the women’s room, when the hour was busy. He’d come, and amidst the noise of the pub, you’d break the scotch bottle over his head, which you somehow sneaked from the bar. A nicely crafted plan! No one would have suspected you. It was the Oldman’s pub. He would have been blamed anyways, given their history of disputes.”
He paused to study her expressions. Her gaze was fixed on him, cuffed hands on the table. He continued — “But then, a clear evidence was almost ignored during the investigation. YOU were there with Hendbair that night, arguing about something, if I may add, and as the evidence suggests, you left right before the band performance, which amusingly coincides with the time he was murdered. And his buttons were loose when he died.”
She scoffed. “Maybe he and Gary were making out.”
“…and you know what ‘buttons’ I was talking about.” He said with a wide grin on his face. “Regardless,” he sighed. “After 3 months, the bureau did arrest you for your previous murder. That was when they started suspecting that maybe Gary wasn’t lying after all! But they didn’t have concrete evidence. There was no motive! However, we did come across something interesting this week. You had an abortion, right? Just a week before Nixhiten’s murder…a few days before he and Lizzavetta announced their marriage?” He sat on the table, leaning close to her. “I think it was Nixhiten’s. What do you think?” He whispered. “You thought you hid it pretty well, didn’t you?”
…
“It was Nixhiten’s.” She agreed after a long pause.
“Hah! The hatred! Oh! the hatred” He jumped back up again. Things were going easier than expected.
“Then, you came for Lizzavetta…”
“She died due to food poisoning, in a hospital. How many times do I need to…”
“…During the week of her late fiance's funeral, by a poison planted by you”, he leaned in against the table. “ Six people were hospitalized that day, only Lizzavetta died.”
“I was hospitalized too. Why don’t you interrogate the catering manager?”
“Oh, I did, and he is paying for his ingredients, believe me! The problem lies here, you see, you and the other four people became sick due to that bad food. She however, had remains of cyanide in her stomach.” He returned to his chair.
“Well, that’s what severe food poisoning does.” She spread her cuffed hands in the air as if to point out the idiocracy of his remark.
He chuckled. “The cyanide was thought to have been produced due to excessive alcohol and food poisoning, the same as the rest of you. But, the level of cyanide in her body increased, just as the rest of you were getting better and before the doctors could do anything, she died. My best guess, you thought this as your only chance to get rid of her.”
“I carry cyanide in my pocket. Sure! Don’t you think you are stretching this a bit much?”
He was getting irritated. “A certified nurse and murderer, trapped sick in the same hospital you work in, with every resource almost to yourself…You hated her, didn’t you? You killed your baby for Nixhiten but he left you for her. And you visited Liza every day. Why is that? Why did you keep visiting her?”
“…”
Now this was his chance. “I know what you are capable of. You have a history of bad behavior, right from your childhood. Assaults, arson, robbery…and your choice of weapons”, he chuckled, “damn if they are not commendable!”
“…”
“So, come on. Speak now. And, Be honest about it. You are wasting both of our time.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Lies!”
“I didn’t kill any of them and I am not a liar.”
She was getting on his nerves. “You denied killing him too, didn’t you?” He opened up a file and pointed at a picture. A male. Bruised. Dead. Naked and dismantled all over. Unrecognizable. He leaned in towards her, to study her closely. “Aren’t you getting a little nostalgic? Tell me, were you not a liar then? Or have you stopped lying, like you stopped smoking?”
She placed her cuffed hands against the table. “I believed in the lie when I said I didn’t kill him.” She emphasized each word with a stern look on her face. “I was wrong, still, I wasn’t lying. “
“Wow! You are very funny.” He smiled in disbelief.
She sighed. “Why do you ask if you are not ready to listen?”
“I am not your therapist, darling. I am not here to listen to your mental problems. By the way, is this your new plan? To escape your sentences on grounds of mental instability?”
She smiled at his remark. He had peaked her interest. “It’s a trick actually. Do you want to learn?” She raised a brow.
He scoffed. Had she become that helpless?
“Let’s say, I believe you.” He disregarded her invitation, though tempted by her piquancy. “But you believe in weird things, dear. I am bewildered! Help me out here now. You were heard to have made death threats to Lizzavetta, twice, while both of you were hospitalized. She died within days! Do you at least believe that truth?” He said in a mocking tone.
“Why, have you never said, ‘I will kill you’ to someone and not meant so?”
“Don’t compare yourself to me!”
“Fine!” She shifted in her chair and placed her cuffed hands on the table with her eyes fixed on him. She noticed an opening.
“But we are not that different you know, you and me. Or, maybe we are, and you are worse than me” She asserted in the same indifferent tone, with sudden mischief in her eyes.
“What do you mean?” He frowned in confusion.
A faint curve appeared on the corner of her lips. Her eyes sparkled in delight. There was a third person in the room.
“You fancy me.” She began, in a slow and soft manner. The wrinkled creases on his forehead were still present from the frown. He wasn’t expecting those words. “Not in a sympathetic way. Not even in a romantic way, I suppose. But in a way, two travelers walking the same journey fancy each other. Like being bounded by the same fate. Something sort of fatalistic, you know!”
He squeezed his eyes in disbelief. There was a pang in his chest. “Don’t flatter yourself. You are being ridiculous.” Where was this conversation going?
“Don’t worry, I understand you. I have been there before.” She smiled, almost empathetically.
He was confused. He didn’t know what was going on. She looked at him with her piercing eyes, as if looking through him and smiling at the chaos encircling his head. Why was he feeling so uncomfortable? What did she know?
“It’s time to end this session” He began gathering his papers up. Something in her made him feel disquiet.
“But wait, don’t you want to hear what I have to say? I haven’t told you my side of the story, yet!” She was enjoying this.
Suddenly everything was different. She was another person now, with a sweet voice and innocent face and the smirk of a devil. Did he fancy her? No! Perhaps. WHAT?
He left the papers as they were and laid back in his chair. And with a stern look on his face, he growled, “Speak.”
Part II coming soon…(I hope)
