by Diana X Dunn
While Julia had never yet crossed that line with Blake, she knew he was always aware of it and it bothered him. She suspected that he also didn’t like the idea that she was personally involved with Alex Knight. He was the one who’d gone and gotten married, though. Her personal life was no longer his concern.
“For your money, did he kill her?” He shot the question at Julia, his tone harsh.
Julia didn’t blink, merely sat back and gave the question some thought. “I’d need more details to be sure. Was it planned or impulsive? Was it brutal or quick? Those things would help me answer your question. But, without knowing anything more, just based on what I’ve seen of Alex’s character, no, he didn’t kill her.”
“Care to elaborate?”
She ran her fingers through her hair. “Reading people, understanding what makes them who they are, is a big part of what I do. Alex doesn’t come across as the right type to kill someone, especially not someone he once loved. Anyone can and will kill in certain circumstances, if pushed hard enough,” she acknowledged, “but I would like to believe that, if he felt under that sort of stress from his wife, I would have felt it when we were together. He was relaxed and charming yesterday. He didn’t seem to have any secrets or anything bothering him. He certainly didn’t act like a man planning to murder anyone.”
“He didn’t seem to have any secrets?” Blake seized on the words. “Did he tell you he was married?”
“No, and believe me, I’m not happy about that.”
“So he did manage to keep at least one secret from you. Maybe he is good enough to hide his plans for murder as well?”
“I don’t think so. If he was planning to kill his wife today, why go out partying last night? It just doesn’t add up for me. Maybe if I had more information…” she trailed off, hoping Blake would take the hint this time.
Blake smiled slowly. “Okay, fair enough,” he told her. “Patrol got a call this morning at 10:23 that there was a problem at the Knight house in South Side. There was a transport in the area and the uniformed officers arrived to find Alexander Knight standing over his wife’s body. Initial testing shows that she had been stabbed about twenty minutes earlier and left to bleed out.”
“Any idea how long he had been in the house?”
“None. He can’t prove when he arrived. The security door is a simple, key code one that doesn’t track anything. He claims that she called him this morning and demanded that he drop everything and come and see her. According to his story, when he arrived, no one answered the door so he let himself in to try to find her. He claims he searched the ground floor, leaving the living room for last, because he expected her to be in the kitchen having coffee, which was her habit on Saturdays. He says he had just spotted her behind the couch and walked over when the police arrived. The first officer on the scene reported that Knight had just taken his hand off the knife as he came through the door. Obviously, Mr. Knight disputes that and says that he was just reaching for it to remove it, to try to help, when the officer arrived.”
“Fingerprints on the knife?”
“Only those of the deceased.”
“Any idea where the knife came from?”
“It matches a set in a block in the kitchen. There is one missing from the set. We’ve got the live-in partner on his way and we’re hoping he can identify it. Mr. Knight, for the record, says he has never seen it before, but that when he moved out he took a similar set with him. Apparently he loved to cook with real food and his wife could barely open a FADS bar, so he took most of the kitchen equipment when he left.”
Julia nodded slowly, taking it all in. “Was there much blood?” she asked, her mind racing with possibilities.
“Yes, there was a lot of blood, all over the body and the floor around her.”
“And on Alex?”
“Not a drop, except on the bottom of his shoes, where he had stepped in it.”
Julia sat back and frowned. “Seems pretty clear he didn’t do it, doesn’t it?”
“Seems pretty clear he didn’t do it just as the cops arrived.” Blake countered. “That doesn’t mean that he didn’t do it. Maybe he did it, cleaned himself up and then came back to pretend to find the body. Maybe he hired someone else to do it and then arrived to find the body. There are a number of possibilities that mean your Mr. Knight isn’t totally in the clear.”
“Obviously there are a number of possibilities, but it seems to me that someone was trying to frame him.”
“Desperately sloppy framing if they were,” Blake argued. “They would have to be pretty ignorant as to how the police work. Fingerprints, time of death measurements, all those things point to someone other than Knight.”
“But if your officer had been a few seconds later, Alex might have pulled out the knife and tried to help his wife. If he tried to stop the bleeding, he would have ended up covered in her blood, next to a knife covered in his fingerprints. If that had happened, you would be looking a lot more closely at him, especially since the door didn’t record Knight’s arrival time.”
Blake grinned. “So the fact that our cops were quick may just have saved your boyfriend’s neck.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Julia answered wearily. Her head had started pounding when Alex had called and this conversation wasn’t helping at all. “But it does seem likely that whoever made that call was trying to set Alex up.”
“Or,” Blake answered, “it is all a double bluff and Knight killed her, cleaned himself up, and then came back and made the call himself to try to make it look like a botched frame up.”
Julia nodded, “I know you have to consider every possibility, but I still think Alex is innocent. You can draw your own conclusions once you’ve talked to him yourself. I don’t suppose you’ll let me talk to him as well?”
Blake tipped his head, thinking. “I’m going to interview him now. If you want to talk to him, come back in an hour and I’ll let you use an interview room for your chat. Everything you say will be recorded for me, of course!”
“Of course,” Julia smiled. “You’ll enjoy hearing me shout at him for not mentioning his wife last night.”
Blake grinned. “That’s the only reason I’m allowing it,” he told her.
Seven
An hour later, Julia was waiting yet again. This time she was in a small interview room on the third floor of the station. The room was almost claustrophobically tiny, and the walls were painted an unpleasant shade of grey. The only interruption to the walls was the door at one end and a small mirror on the opposite wall. Behind the mirror was an observation room where Blake might or might not sit to watch her discussion with Alex. It hardly mattered as overhead she could count three cameras, all trained on the metal gray folding table and chairs in the center of the room. Julia knew there would be others. It didn’t matter.
She hadn’t wasted her hour. Her handbag now held credentials identifying Julia Randall as a special consultant to the New York City Police Department – Homicide Division. She’d briefly considered creating an entirely new identity, but this was quicker and easier. Julia’s background now included a degree in Homicide Investigation. She had a modest list of minor publications in e-magazines designed, written, and read by law enforcement types. Her WorldNet profile showed that she had the unique blend of experience and education that made her a natural choice for a consultancy position with a police force that was dedicated to achieving a perfect record in solving major crimes.
Now she pulled up the neighborhood data for the area where Alex’s wife had lived. The map let her walk down the street, Lilac Court. It was an almost romantic name for a tiny slice of residential life wedged between a shopping mall and the new highway. She studied tiny houses set on small individual lots. They had all been built in the last ten years in this newly developed suburb that was only just barely considered part of New York City. To her, the houses still looked like they didn’t quite fit into the environment. They were all small three-bedroom homes, covered in plast
ic siding and looking as if they had been spit out of the same mold marked “suburban dream home for city dwellers.”
She looked at each house in turn. Some of the homeowners had obviously tried to make their homes look more individual, but somehow their attempts just seemed to emphasis the relentless similarities. A new roof, new siding or larger windows, a small extension that bought a bit more floor space but virtually eliminated the yard, no matter what had been done, only the house numbers really seemed to differentiate between the homes. She was focusing on the house that Alex had shared with his wife when the heavy steel door swung open and Alex was escorted into the room.
He looked exhausted, his face tight and his eyes hooded. Only a trained observer would have noticed the surprise that flashed over his face as he recognized her. Then he composed himself and stared angrily at her.
“So, you’re a cop? Is Bowman your boss or are you his?” Alex bit the words out.
Julia smiled, firmly taking control of the situation. “I suppose I should properly introduce myself,” she told Alex. “I never did tell you what I do for a living. As it happens, I’m a consultant to the Homicide Department here in New York.”
Alex tilted his head and studied her. “Really? You never thought to mention that last night?”
“I don’t really talk about my job. When you consult with police forces around the world, especially when you specialize in homicide, it makes sense to keep quiet about what you do.”
“And Sienna Madison?” Alex pushed.
Julia laughed lightly. “I’ve no idea about Sienna Madison,” she told him. “I can that see she made a very big impression on you. Maybe I should try to find out more about her.”
Alex watched her face closely as she spoke, and she knew that he was trying to work out what to believe. “So, Julia Randall, consultant homicide investigator, you just happen to be called in to consult on my case, then?”
“Actually, the way I remember it, you called me,” she reminded him. “I usually only get involved in very high profile cases, but luckily Blake is a friend of mine and agreed to set up a chance for us to talk.”
“You must be really good friends,” Alex said sharply.
Julia smiled indulgently, refusing to the let his mood affect her. “We were very good friends at one time. We’ve rather lost touch since he got married last year. But we really aren’t here to talk about me, are we?”
“I’m here because this is where the police brought me after my interview with Bowman. I’m still not at all clear on why you are here.”
Julia could hear anger, frustration and many other suppressed emotions in his voice. He wasn’t used to being interviewed by the police, and he’d found his wife’s body earlier in the day. Julia was surprised how much she wanted to make everything better for him.
“I’m here because you called me and asked me for help. I’m here because I actually am in a position to help you with this. I can be a part of the investigation, try to figure out exactly what happened to Cassie, and help get the right person put behind bars. Or I can leave now and let the police get on with the job. If I stay, you need to sit down and start cooperating.”
Alex sank into the other chair and looked straight into the mirror in front of him. “If you leave, wouldn’t that spoil Bowman’s plans for getting my confession?” he asked in a harsh tone.
Julia sighed, getting impatient now. “Look, I know you’ve had a hard day. I’m here to try to help. If you want to make this hard work, you go right ahead.”
“Here to help?” Alex looked into Julia’s eyes. “I wish I could believe that.”
Julia stared back at him levelly. “Believe what you want to believe, Alex. I don’t have to get involved in this case. I’m here because I do want to help you.”
Alex shut his eyes and slumped back in his chair. “After the morning I’ve had, I’m starting to think I did do it,” he muttered wearily, shutting his eyes.
Julia sighed and patted the hand that he had rested on the table. Alex immediately grabbed her hand and held it tight. “Is Bowman behind that mirror?” he asked, without opening his eyes.
“I’ve no idea, but it’s safe to assume that someone is behind that mirror. Regardless, there are at least three cameras recording our conversation and probably a few other listening and monitoring devices tracking us as well.”
Alex nodded and slowly opened his eyes. He stared hard into Julia’s. “I didn’t kill her. I didn’t have anything to do with her murder. And I don’t have any idea who did kill her.” He spoke slowly, biting out each word, seemingly desperate to make her believe him.
“That’s cleared up all of that then.” Julia smiled encouragingly at him and shifted her chair closer to his. She took both of his hands in hers now and stared straight into his eyes. “There are a lot of other things you need to clear up, though,” she suggested.
“I should have told you I was married.” Alex sighed.
“That would have been good,” Julia answered, allowing a slightly sarcastic bite to slip into her tone. She thought about pulling her hands away, but Alex was holding on tightly.
“It never came up in the conversation. If you had asked me outright, I would never have lied, but it wasn’t something that I wanted to bring up.” Alex shook his head, and pulled one of his hands away to run it through his hair. “I know that sounds like I’m making excuses now, but I was hoping to take things slowly with you. I didn’t want to rush anything. I was hoping that by the time I felt I had to tell you about Cassie, she would already be on the way to being my ex-wife.”
“You’re right, it does sound like a weak excuse. And of course, now she is out of your life. Isn’t that convenient for you?”
Alex’s eyes widened and then shut again. “Yep, it is very convenient and I’m sure the police are delighted to think so too. The problem is, I didn’t do it.”
“I know,” Julia said quietly.
“The police want to know who else might have wanted her dead. I’ve simply no idea.” Alex ran his fingers through his hair again. It was totally disheveled and he looked nothing like the sophisticated gentleman that Julia had met in Erie months earlier.
“I think we should start at the beginning.” Julia suggested.
“This morning? Cassie rang me about…”
“No,” Julia interrupted. “The very beginning. Tell me how you met Cassie, why you got married, and why you aren’t still together.”
Alex frowned. “I was sort of hoping to tell you all of this stuff over dinner and drinks on our fifth date or something,” he told her.
“We won’t get a fifth date if you are in prison for murder, will we?”
“I guess not,” Alex sighed. “I met Cassie, ah hell, thirty-odd years ago,” Alex shook his head and blinked back tears. “She was my oldest friend, you know.”
He pulled his other hand free from Julia’s and sat forward in the chair, covering his face with his hands. Julia gave him a moment to compose himself.
“The best thing you can do for her now is help us work out who killed her,” she spoke softly.
“You’re right, of course. I think it all just hit me. Cassie is dead. Not only that, someone murdered her. It just doesn’t seem possible.” Alex sat back, a dazed look on his face.
Julia stood up. “Let me get you some water or something. What you’re feeling is totally normal. This is probably the first chance you’ve had to actually think about what happened this morning.”
Julia knocked on the door and requested some Nutri-Drinks from the officer who answered. “I’ll have to check with the boss,” she was told.
Julia knew that Blake would be happy to provide a few drinks if he thought she might get useful information. A few moments later the drinks arrived. Julia insisted that Alex drink half of his before he tried to speak again. She was relieved to see some color returning to his face as the drink entered his system and worked its magic, flooding his body with essential vitamins and minerals.
�
�When did you last have anything to eat?” she demanded.
“They gave me something a while back.” Alex was vague.
“A stale sandwich? A dried out bar? You need something hot and comforting at a time like this.”
“I thought you were a fan of FADS bars.” Alex managed a wry smile. “I don’t think they are very worried about my comfort.”
Julia sat back in her chair and watched Alex finish his drink. The nutrients were already working their way around his system to shore up his depleted energies. After a moment she felt satisfied that he was getting back to normal.
“Right, so you were telling me that you met Cassie thirty years ago?”
“Yeah, we went to grade school together. We were in the same kindergarten class when we were both five. She was such a cute little thing, with blonde curls and blue eyes.”
Alex’s eyes filled with tears. Julia handed him a tissue from a box on the table and waited for him to resume.
“I probably fell in love with her there and then, when I was five.” His voice took on a nostalgic tone. “We played together and grew up together. When we were both eighteen we made sure we went to the same university. We never dated in school. It was more like we were best friends. We used to give each other advice about dating and rate each other’s dates.”
Alex shook his head. “With the clarity of hindsight, I think we probably should have stayed just good friends,” he told Julia. “It wasn’t until our last year at college that we started dating. We both got drunk at a party and ended up in bed together. It all just felt so right that we were a couple from then on. After graduation we moved to New York to start our careers and it seemed natural to get married.” He paused there, his eyes unfocused with remembering.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you get married? Why not just live together, or have a legal partnership arrangement? Why get married?”
“Why not get married?” Alex countered. “We were in love.”