The Harem on the Hill (Part XCVII)

“Listen to me, Petty.  I didn’t kill whoever your Chief is talking about.” 

A true statement.  Though “whoever” was most likely Sophie Mitchell, the lone resident of 125 Sycamore Lane and one-time candidate for your harem.

You nod towards Juan’s body on the floor.  “I killed him, but only because he killed Helen.  I’ve been here for hours.”

Again, all true.  Of course, you neglect to tell him the reason you were there in the first place was to stakeout Helen’s farm in anticipation of the killer who was apparently busy at 125 Sycamore.

“I believe you,” Petty says, his shaky hands steadying.

Then he puts his walkie-talkie back on his belt and pulls a set of handcuffs from one of his many pockets.

“Of course, I still have to arrest you.”

You don’t fight Petty as he clicks on the cuffs.  He wasn’t going to let you walk away from a murder scene.  However, you’ve planted seeds of doubt.  Now you must wait for them to take root.

The drive to the station is quiet.  Petty plays it by the book, which discourages fraternizing with perps.

Meanwhile, you’re busy formulating your alibi. 

***

“Let me get this straight—this wetback, Juan Garcia, smacks his employer, Helen Macintosh, in the face with a shovel and begins violating her.  That’s when you spring from the bushes like Batman.”

Captain Tucker leans over the interrogation table.  His condescending tone suggests he isn’t as open-minded as Petty.

You shake your head.  “Batman would’ve saved her.  I wasn’t fast enough.”

Officer Petty, sitting opposite you, strums his fingers across a manilla folder. You expect it’s just a matter of time before whatever’s inside it comes into play.  “Why do you suppose Juan, with no history of violence whatsoever, suddenly decided to rape and murder his longtime employer?” 

“He must’ve found out about me,” you respond.

Tucker smirks.  “Death seems to follow you, doesn’t it?”

You don’t reply.

“Why would Juan care?” Petty follows up.

“He’d made unwanted advances on Helen before.  Helen told me that she was worried about what he’d do when he found out she was dating me.  She said she might have to fire him.”

Tucker folds his arms.  “That’s when you decided to play Junior GI?” 

You nod.  “I figured something might happen, but Helen brushed off my offer to help.  She said she could handle him.”

“Apparently, she could not.”   

The urge to smack Tucker’s smirk is overwhelming. 

“I wanted to be there, just in case,” you continue.  “But it all happened so fast.  One second, they were arguing.  And the next…”

You grimace at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Officer Petty says, a hint of genuine compassion in his voice.  “How long had you and Helen been dating?”

“Just a few weeks.” 

Long enough to know enough facts about Helen’s life to satisfy the officers that the two of you did, indeed, have a relationship.  Of course, you don’t mention how one-sided it was.

“I thought you were dating that tubby chick, Tina Jordan?”  Chief Tucker chimes.

“That ended months ago.”

“Amicably?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“She got obsessed.  Tried to blackmail me.” 

“Blackmail you how?”

“By digging up my past.”

“Veronica Tate?”

You nod.

Petty looks at Tucker, who gives him a nod.  The young officer removes a photo from the manilla folder and slides it across the table to you.  It shows two pre-teen girls standing by a lake. 

“Were you aware that Ms. Jordan was the estranged sister of Ms. Tate?”

You study the photo.  Veronica, even at such a young age, appears glamorous despite a smile adorned with braces.  The much shorter Tina, sporting a boyish bowl haircut, looks like she’d rather be elsewhere.

“No,” you say, sliding the photo back.  “She said she had no siblings.”

“Veronica changed her name when she moved to Hollywood.  I hear she was about to make it big, too, when she got…big.”  Captain Tucker puffs his cheeks and holds his arms in front of him like he’s holding a giant beachball.

Petty slides another document from the folder across the table.  “Were you aware that Ms. Jordan and her father moved to town less than a month after you did?”

It’s the lease agreement for the shitty brownstone apartment downtown that Tina and her father shared. The dates on the contract confirm Petty’s statement. 

You slide the contract back.  “I was not.”

Petty tucks both items back into the folder.  “Do you know where Ms. Morgan is now?”

You shrug.  “I have no idea.  Somewhere plotting revenge, I expect.”

“Do you think she’s capable of murder?”

“I think she’s capable of anything.” 

Petty and Tucker share a glance that indicates they may believe it too.

What do you say next?