freedom and the attention of the opposite sex. Those are the things that, to her, symbolise the whole of life, even as her age gradually becomes closer to thirty than twenty. I spent the whole night sleeplessly, partially mulling over the case materials, but mostly remembering the sweet and soothing feeling of bliss I used to sense as I was around the only woman I’ve ever truly cared about. Realizing that it is a pleasure I am permanently cut off from by barbed wires and concrete walls.
“I went to see Boris yesterday,” Rebecca began the next morning.
“My trusty, little beagle? How is he?” I asked.
“Still chasing about my granddad’s hens,” she laughed. “He likes the country side. Fresh air and plenty of space is all a dog needs to be happy.”
“I still would have liked for you to take care of him as I was taken in. I have nothing against your grandparents, but Boris liked you, you know? If I was nowhere around, you were his favourite alternative.” Her response when I asked her to take care of Boris truly disappointed me and came as a genuine shock. That’s when I realised what course our relationship had taken.
“You know that my landlord does not allow pets,” she lied.
“Yeah, yeah…”
She gave me a questioning stare, but I remained silent.
“Besides, I don’t know how to take care of pets…”
“… Or how to wake up earlier to take one for a walk before work,” I interrupted.
Rebecca frowned and turned her eyes towards her feet.
“The case then…” I changed the subject.
“Yes, what have you found out?”
“Firstly, I highly doubt that the husband is our guy. His expression indicates disbelief which is common for those in shock, less common for those who kill. So, here is what I know: The perpetrator lives, or temporarily resides on the fourth floor and must be somehow involved in the victim’s affair, which she definitely has.”
“Go on,” Rebecca noted.
“I will. The crime has been done with extreme precision time-wise. Luck is almost certain to go against you, if you plan to murder someone. Call it a sign, a bad coincidence – whatever, but when there is going to be a murder, luck will turn its back. That is why I was always thorough and never left anything to chance or coincidence. No, the killer must have had a clear sight through the peephole when the husband left the apartment. And he needed a place to quickly disappear into not to cross paths with the grieving spouse.”
“Why not the third floor then, for example?”
“Technically, the murderer could have been hiding on the third floor and seen the husband walking by. But, then he would have missed crucial seconds just because the husband would already be halfway down before the culprit could get out of his apartment. And after the crime was committed the individual could not go back down because that could mean running into the husband. Go up and sit on the staircase? Hoping that nobody notices them? What are the odds for that?! A person, who has just committed a crime, will not be this rational and witty. Furthermore, the killer cannot be someone living on the upper floors because then they would not be able to spot the time when the victim is all alone. The killer resides in one of the fourth floor flats, I guarantee it! Otherwise, I hope the murderer also brought a lot of lottery tickets that day, for he would be the luckiest man alive. Besides, the unused place on the floor is being used by someone, as you will find out by inspecting the doorframe near the locks.”
“Impressive,” she was obviously staggered. “I will take a look at that apartment personally and as soon as possible. But I have a couple of other questions. First: How do you know this has anything to do with her affair? Her husband too was absent, why would you not blame it on his lover then?”
“Consider the time she was killed. The woman was all alone in her home for the whole day, why not strike without any risk of interruption? Why? Think about it. Because she was supposed to tell something to him. Probably that she wanted a divorce or something. Apparently – she didn’t and that is why the stabbing happened. Our killer is someone who was eager, desperate even to know the answer as soon as the husband walked out of the door. The killer could not have known where the husband was going, so he might have figured that because of the quickness and casual clothing the husband left the apartment in, it was because of anger. Then disappointment came in the form of rejection. Then madness kicked in, which shifted into realization that the husband had not left for long. He had to think quickly!” I paused. “Clever fellow, the murderer. He must have figured that buzzing the man back in would mislead the police. And he was right, wasn’t he? Place the blame on her poor, unsuspecting companion. Then he left the apartment, retaining his cool, sliding back into his own apartment.”
“Yes. And the wife knew her killer as the lack of struggle indicates.” She agreed.
“Precisely!”
“Where does this bring us then?” She asked.
“To the empty apartment. And try to elicit more information from the other fourth floor residents. Here, I prepared a few questions to ask them. Those are mostly general curiosities, but could very well be leads.”
She looked at the notes I had scribbled on the paper.
“How could this help?” She asked, her eyebrows puckered.
“Just do as I ask, will you? Trust me, it is essential.”
“All right, all right. Relax!” She had started to grow impatient. “It’s just that… I can’t see how the empty apartment fits into all this. Was she having an affair in the flat right next to hers?! That’s ridiculous.”
“Preposterous as it sounds, you must examine it regardless of how much sense it makes. If my suspicions end up being correct, I will be able to give us a definite answer on the killer and, possibly, even the motive.”
It seemed as if she was not satisfied with my secrecy, for she crossed her arms and legs while turning away from me.
“Oh, I noticed something odd on the video footage. Why were people covering their heads and waving while entering the house?”
“There’s a wasp nest in the tree just before the door. I guess the tree is out of camera’s frame,” she stated. “By the way, did you look at her phone?”
“No, the guard took away the computer before I could. He said his shift was over, but he could not leave the device with me as he left. When I asked whether the next guard will bring it back, he had no reply. I have no idea what was wrong with him.”
“That’s outrageous!”
“Just tell me what you saw in the phone, please.”
“The victim had a habit of deleting text messages from it. She wasn’t an active social network user either. She had a profile on facebook, but she did not make a lot of posts, or actively engage in messaging to other people. Whatever posts she had made were just small-talk, or late-night debates over politics and religion. Apparently, the victim was Catholic and supported the legalization of marijuana.”
“Is that so? Intriguing…” I said.
“What is?”
“Never mind,” I did not wish to lay all my cards on the table just yet. “What about her calls?”
“Many from unknown numbers. That must be because of her work – many people calling, making appointments, asking questions… One would think that this is the job of the secretary, but it turns out there are a couple of clients who she takes out of turn. They speak to her directly, according to the secretary.”
“Awfully lot, don’t you think?”
“It does seem like she had a lot of VIP clients. Around five a day.”
“Whoa! Excellent!”
Rebecca tilted her head in a questioning stare which I deliberately ignored. She, however, patiently waited for me to explain.
“The killer is an amateur. A professional would never leave such a bloody mess, or taken that much time with stabbing an already dying corpse when the husband had left the apartment mere minutes before. And the whole motive is still up for finding out, but I believe it has started to take shape. But those are
still mere guesses from my part. Voiced guesses, I am certain, could hinder both you and me. So, I want to keep everything strictly within the bounds of what I know for sure. The worst thing that could happen is you starting to look for clues that might prove my hypotheses as it might mean we both miss something of major importance that could indicate some flaws in my conclusions. I hope this makes sense. I need your critical mind on, to ensure no data goes amiss. Otherwise, we might get carried away like when the police caught me after the murder of Vasilevsky. If I had remained composed and smart, without taking daring chances, your lot would not have found me, but I could have easily gathered evidence against the actual killer.”
“Don’t you start this again. It was a small bit of lie wrapped in an enormous bundle of truth. You would have been arrested regardless.”
“It was the first time I felt as if I was doing something good with life. I liked that, I wanted to build on that momentum. I was a good detective, wasn’t I? How I sniffed through the case, and the stories of the killed fellow. Only to find out that that is exactly what the killer wanted me to do, until they informed the police about my whereabouts.”
Rebecca nodded. “But you can’t suggest that you are not where you deserve to be. Do you read the news? Whenever there’s a gas explosion, or a car runs into a tree – people begin to wonder whether Albert is out on the streets again. You played with the most common of accidents and now they
Living Among Wasps Page 4