by Gray, A L
"Miss Gooden, please stay in the car for a moment." Jonathan tells me.
"I-" I start to say but he doesn't even acknowledge me.
He steps out of the car and the impact of the door slamming worries me. I see him call someone and my curiosity gets the better of me. I open the car window.
"Who are you speaking to?"
"Please stay in the car Miss." He hand signals for me to close the window, rolling his hand around.
I sit back closing the window annoyed - what is going on? I know, I'll call Sophie; she said she would be at my place.
I dial her and she answers rapidly.
"Anile, where have you been?"
Holy crap, she's crying! Something is wrong, I know it. My tummy curdles. My hands start to shake.
"I have been - never mind that - why are there Police and an Ambulance outside of my apartment?"
There is a short pause before she cries further.
"This morning I got up and heard screaming in your lobby," she sniffles, "I opened the door to find a body covered in blood! It was crazy, someone literally butchered the person!"
My heart plummets through the floor to the centre of the earth; what the hell?
"Was it a man or a woman?" I have no idea why I ask that. I blink rapidly. "Sophie, are you okay?"
"I don't know if I'm okay - I don't know who it was; no one could tell. They were dressed in blue overalls and there was a pink cushion with Barbie written in crystals over the bodies head. I have never seen anything like that in all my life Anile. I am so shaken up - I don't know how to feel. The Police took my statement and made me feel like a criminal!"
The cushion comes flooding back to me. Holy fucking shit! I cannot manage words - I feel sick. I clutch at my pained tummy.
"Anile, are you there?"
"Yes, sorry. I can't imagine how you feel Sophie. Where are you?" I say desperately trying to hide my worry.
"I am back at home. I left around two hours ago - I hope you understand."
I sit silent for a few more seconds. "Of course I understand. I'm sorry I didn't make it home Sophie."
"No, it's okay Anile, if you were here we would both be traumatized."
"Sophie, I have to go. I will call you in a few hours. Drink plenty of water and do not stay alone if you are scared." I hold my aching tummy tighter, desperately hoping that I have this all wrong. "I am so, so sorry this happened."
"It's not your fault. Anile. To be honest, I'm scared for you. It was on your door step - there are bloody hand prints on your door handle - I think the dead person was trying to enter your place."
Her insight makes me feel physically sick - I think I'm going to throw up. I swallow hard while trying to reassure her.
"Don't worry about me, I have to go." I mutter and hang up.
I sit in a daze for God knows how long - the cushion, it has to be Elijah, but he was with me? But he didn't wake up with me. Oh no, I cannot handle this!
"Miss Gooden. Miss Gooden." I hear someone call but it sounds as though it's whispers in the background of my life. I turn and register a Police man has opened the car door. He's kneeling down beside me.
"Miss Gooden?"
"Yes." I breathe.
"Are you ok Love?"
"I don't know Sir. What happened exactly?" I frown.
"Would you like to come and sit in the Police car with me so we can recap last night's events in private?"
"Um, sure." I say, but Jonathan stops him.
"Sir, I do not think that is appropriate. Mr. Darks - Miss Gooden's Lawyer - will be here shortly."
"Why does she need a Lawyer?" The Police man asks curious while rising to his feet.
"Yes, why do I need a Lawyer? I was not even here."
"Please Miss Gooden. Stay in the car; Mr. Darks will not be long." Jonathan insists as he closes the car door.
I am so annoyed at his rudeness and I do not want Elijah near me - not if he had something to do with this. How the hell am I supposed to speak to him with all these peering eyes on us?
I open the car door at full force and step out tall beside the Police man.
"You should leave Jonathan - Sir, where shall we go so we can talk in private?" I address the Police man
"Miss Good..." Jonathan tries to urge but I cut him off with a signal of my hand. I slam the car door shut with my other hand - mirroring his earlier action.
"Ready Miss Gooden?" The Police man asks me as he takes my arm forcefully. He's staring impassively at Jonathan.
He smells like a typical Police man - I try not to inhale while I'm so close to him. He smells like old out of date fruity aftershave. He's not very good looking either; dirty brown hair that is cut badly; tons of pizza grease spots and a mean smile. He looks disgustingly fit for the job.
"Um, yes, Sir." I say sham.
Jonathan stands by the Bentley with a pique expression while dialling someone on his phone - probably Elijah. Oh dear, will Mr. Darks spank you to?
The Police man leads me to his car just across the street next to the ambulance. His fingers are firmly grasping my arm; they send harrowing chills down my spine; I don't like him touching me.
He opens the Police car door for me. "Please get comfortable Miss." He says while closing the door for me.
Once he seats himself next to me, he closes all the windows which makes me feel claustrophobic.
Breathe, breathe.
I watch him open his little black note pad and it feels as though it's all happening in slow motion. My foot starts idly tapping. I start picking at my nails - why am I so nervous?
"Miss Gooden, where were you last night?"
"Where was I? I was with - a friend." I say confident.
"Who is your friend?"
"Um, is this relevant?" I frown.
"Yes, I am afraid it is." He says firm.
I croak my embarrassment away and try to stay strong. "Mr. Elijah Darks, Sir."
"Oh." Is all he says in a questionable voice and this sparks my curiosity.
"Is that all Sir?"
"Miss Gooden, you will need to accompany me to the station for a few more questions."
"What, why?" I almost shout. I turn facing him.
"Calm down, it is routine Miss."
I stare dumbfounded, shocked, worried... the list is endless. I know this is not routine. If he would just contact Elijah, he would be able to confirm my alibi, and this would be sorted. They should not be avoiding Elijah altogether. Something is wrong, I know it - I feel it.
"Sir, do you know who it is that was murdered?"
"Yes, we do Miss Gooden."
Holy fuck!
"Can you tell me?" I frown.
"No, that is Police business for now."
Jesus, this is bad. He won't even release information on who the dead person is!
"Can I call a friend please, Sir?" I ask. I try my best to hold it together; I just cannot believe this is actually happening!
He looks at me for a few seconds and thankfully takes pity on me.
"I wouldn't normally allow you to but everyone's statement seem as though they have holes. I am just going to speak with my colleague and I will be back, please wait here, Miss."
"What do you mean, 'everyone's statement has holes’?" I ask trying to gather as much information as possible. Who has he spoken to apart from Sophie? Or better more, who would he need to speak to other than Sophie and me?
"That is private information Miss." He replies as he gets out of the car.
Oh, so everything is private information? I roll my eyes at his back.
As soon as the car door closes, I call Derek but he doesn't answer. Shit, now who do I call? I know I should probably call my father but I'm too proud. I watch as the Police man walks back towards me. I shudder at the thought of being the one in the questioning seat.
He gets in and does not mutter one word to me. He fires up the engine and pulls away from my curb. The drive feels like it's final, lasting forever and I just wish I had nev
er brought Sophie back to London with me. She always was bad luck!
WE PULL INTO a small blue gated car park. The Police man escorts me out of the car and into the Kennington Police station. Door after door is opened at our arrival and as they shut, they make me jump because they echo throughout the small empty halls. The gated doors inside are old and grey - reminding me of what my father would look like if he were a material.
I'm still dressed in yesterday's clothes; black leggings and a plain V-neck pastel pink t-shirt with my white converse. I was not fitly dressed for work but I had no clients booked in. I feel like shit - and probably look like shit too. Stress starts to take over like never before; heavy breathing, sweaty palms, a minefield of thoughts. I admonish myself - I am a bloody Lawyer, I should be able to cope with this - I can cope with this!
I try to take easy and controlled deep breaths in hope that I will calm myself but Elijah's words pop into my head.
'Them breathing techniques only work if you can master them."
Don't I bloody know it!
The Police man leads me to the check in counter. He reads me my rights in a powerful deep voice.
"Miss Gooden, I am not formally arresting you, but, I do need to read you your rights. You do not have to say anything that may harm your defence; you do not have to answer when questioned but your answers will be used in the court of Law. You have the right to a Lawyer; if you cannot afford a Lawyer, one can be appointed for you at government expense. Do you understand the rights I have just read you Miss Gooden?"
Staring at the grey desk that is almost too high for me to see over, I answer with all the confidence I have.
"Yes, Sir."
The Police man leads me into another room that is white washed - literally every surface. It almost looks like a science laboratory - Darks Lawyers! He starts taking my finger prints and literally covers my hands in a soft black ink. While he's touching me, I notice his fingers feel firm and sovereignty - which send more chills running through my body. Once he has finished with my finger prints and has taken my DNA, he leads me into the interview room. As we get seated, he turns on a huge tape recorder. I look around at the grey walls and wonder - why do they always paint these places in dark dammed colours? Surely a nice blue would make people feel better? And as I take note of my seat, I see it's blue. I am assuming they use colour control to their advantage - Bastards, smart bastards!
"For the tape recorder. I am PC Glueton - interviewing Miss Anile Gooden aged twenty two. It is ten-thirty three a.m. Saturday the twenty-eighth of March twenty-twelve. Police Case - Olympus Has Fallen. I have formally read Miss Gooden her rights. Can you please confirm for the tape recorder that I have read you your rights, Miss Gooden?"
"Yes, you have PC Glueton."
"I have to offer you a legal representative. If you cannot afford one, we can appoint one for you at government cost."
"That is not necessary. I can represent myself."
"Okay Miss Gooden. Can you run me through your events from last night?" He sits back with a bizarre pleased expression on his face. He crosses his arms and just gazes at me.
I stare back at him for a few seconds. 'Olympus Has Fallen', - what does that mean?
"Yes." I croak. "I was working all day - my PA Hester can confirm my whereabouts. She is based at Darks Lawyers in central London; would you like the company address?"
"No, we have it Miss Gooden." He nods for me to continue.
I place my hands safely in my lap under the table. Don't bite your nails, don't bite your nails!
"Okay. I then left work and went straight to Mr. Elijah Darks' place - do you need his address?" I frown.
"No, we have that also. And then what happened?"
"Nothing, I stayed with him for the night."
"What time did you wake?"
"Um, around nine - I think. Why?"
"Was Mr. Darks with you when you woke?"
Okay, this is where I need to shut up. I could land Elijah in it if I say I was not with him - does he actually have an alibi?
"Miss, please continue." He urges.
"I'm sorry but I cannot answer any more questions without any information on why you have me here Sir."
"And why is that?"
"Because it is my right." I snap, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Huh," he huffs, "are you sure you were with Mr. Darks last night?"
"Yes, I think I know what company I keep."
"Miss Gooden, you do understand lying to a Police officer is an offence?"
"Yes, I know that; I am a Lawyer."
Suddenly I get this protective instinct for Elijah - God damn me! I feel stronger than I did only ten minutes ago and I just hope I can maintain this persona!
"Well, would you like to change your story? This will be your only chance."
I lean forward. I rest my elbows on the cold grey table top. I gaze right into his eyes.
"If I wanted to change my story it would not be true. I was at work all day yesterday and then at Mr. Darks' house all night until this morning. They can both confirm my story - so, unless you are going to charge me for something I clearly did not do, am I free to leave?"
"I'm not finished." He says, still leaning back into his chair. He looks smug - a smug greasy Bastard.
"I am finished. You cannot hold me here without just cause."
"Actually I can, for forty-eight hours with no evidence." He smiles, revealing dirty wonky teeth.
"Actually you cannot. You can only hold me for twenty-four hours because you are a standard Police officer. I have not interfered with your investigation; I will give you full permission to search my house, e-mails and phone records - I will even sign a permission slip for you. I cannot interfere with other witnesses' because I have no idea who they are, and you have not officially arrested me, so you definitely cannot hold me past this interview." I sit back while smiling - I may be a shrinking violet around Elijah but this is my domain. I cross my arms and pout at him.
"Don't be smart with me, Miss Gooden." He growls.
"I am not being smart, I am being realistic - knowing my rights and all. The situation you have brought me to is outrageous; questioning me over a murder when I clearly was not there! And I am also offended that you would think someone in my position would be capable of lying to the Law - I have my practicing certificate and I passed the bar, Sir." I say sarcastically.
"Everyone is capable of committing a crime - even a crime of passion - which is more understood in a court of Law."
"What do you mean by 'a crime of passion'?" I squint my eyes at him. I now have confirmation that there is more to this than meets the eye.
"Okay, that will be all."
"Really? I would like to know what you mean by 'a crime of passion'."
"Unless you have anything to add, Miss Gooden, you can leave."
"No, I do not." I snap and get to my feet.
I pace the room for a few minutes, arms crossed. I insure I don't make eye contact with him.
Once he has finished placing the interview tapes in a plastic bag he tells me, "I would advise you stay in town encase of any further questioning, Anile."
My eyeballs almost pop out of my head at him addressing me by my first name.
“Okay?” He asks.
I nod in reply to him, probably looking sceptical.
I walk out of the door as he opens it for me. I finally relax now I no longer feel like a criminal. I know I have done nothing wrong and I should never have felt that nervous in the first place. I walk free of the dark grey walls and steal doors, relieved that I can almost taste the fresh air - London intoxication or not, it is fresher then jail!
We reach the grey high check in counter and PC Glueton passes me my rap sheet. I sign quicker than lightning and quickly make my way out.
"Remember to stay in town, Miss Gooden." He says once more.
"I heard you the first time." I smile while tucking my skanky hair behind my ears.
To my surprise, Elijah i
s seated in the waiting area - I can see him as I peer through the gated door. He's dressed in a powerful deep black suit. His blood red tie stands out, exuding strength and competence. His hair is tied back, tidy, black and glossy - he is his usual controlled self.
Although I should be scared of him - the evidence against him is hardly compelling to make me believe he did not kill that person - I want to give him a chance to speak - defend himself.
When he spots me, he quickly rises to his feet. His face is of worry and shock; his mouth is closed and his eyes are frosted over.
"Anile, are you okay? I have been waiting for you. Why did you wave your rights to a Lawyer?"
"I waved my rights because I am a bloody Lawyer - it would have been money not well spent." I snap, still exiting the building.
"I would not have charged you." He says but I ignore him.
He doesn't carry on questioning me, he just follows me out of the Police station. The fresh air hits me greatly as I push open the last grey door. I inhale deeply, happy that I am free. I continue walking away from the Police station - Elijah follows me in silence. Once we are around twenty feet away, he tugs on my arm to stop me.
"Anile, what's wrong?" He asks soft.
I look around to insure we are in a public place so he cannot do anything to me.
"What is wrong? I will tell you what is wrong. There was a dead body found outside of my apartment door today - the body is unrecognizable, but do you know what I did recognize?" I say powerful with raised eyebrows.
"What?" He asks. He releases my arm and stands very still.
"Someone described the body; it was dressed in blue overalls and covered in blood, but the head was covered with a pink cushion cover that had Barbie written in crystals. Would you happen to know anything about that?"
His entire body language changes. Less than two seconds ago he seemed sympathetic, desperate even, and now, he looks mad. He grits his teeth and curls his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut. Something is off with him, I can feel it. While he starts pacing the curb, I make a run for it.
"Where are you going?" He shouts but I do not stop, I run as fast as I can. I run to the end of the street, then down Mead Row.