Promised Box Set

by James Kipling

  “Thank God you're here,” he said to one officer. The others were rushing into the bedroom to check the premises for anything. “I think my friend’s been murdered.”

  “Tell me what you saw,” said the officer.

  “There was a woman, my wife saw her, and then I rushed here to see if she took anything because Arnold was out jogging.” His words rushed together in a barely coherent sentence.

  “Did you see him when he came back to his house?”

  “No.”

  “Can we talk to your wife?”

  “Yes, yes. Let's go now.” He ushered the officers towards his house. “She has amnesia and she might forget everything she saw within a half hour.”

  Chapter Three

  The detective began compiling the information he got from Mr. Richard Chandler while his partner talked to his wife, Rosie. He knelt down next to her chair to ask a few questions.

  “Mrs. Chandler, could you please remember what you saw the last few hours?” he asked.

  “I s..a..w a b..e..a..u..t..i..ful l..a..dy,” she coughed as she answered.

  “Did you see her face?”

  “S..h..e w..a..s b..e..a..u..t..i..f..u..l,”

  “How tall was she?”

  “I d..o..n't r..e..me..mber,”

  “Do you remember anything?

  “No.”

  “Are you sure you saw someone?

  “I do..n..'t re..m..e..mb..er.”

  Mr. Chandler covered his eyes with his hands. It was clearly utterly pointless to pressure her to remember.

  “I'm afraid, Mr. Chandler, that you are the primary suspect to this case. You are under arrest until you are brought before a court. You have the right to remain silent, whatever you say can or may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney or the state will provide one for you if you cannot afford one.”

  Mr. Chandler was handcuffed.

  “Please let me talk to one of my neighbors, it won't take long.” he asked the officer.

  Mrs. Chandler was staring; she didn't know why her husband was being arrested. She felt guilty, but she couldn't remember what happened.

  The neighbors saw the police car and wanted to know what was happening. One of the neighbors knocked on the door. One of the officers opened the door.

  “What is going on here?” asked the neighbor.

  “Please, I need you to call my sister in California, tell her to come and look after my wife for me. Everything will be fine.”

  “What the hell happened here?” asked the neighbor again.

  “Ma'am, did you see any stranger here today?”

  “No, why?”

  “Mr. Arnold was murdered in his house today, now if you have any information that will help us put the killer behind bars, call me.”

  He gave her a card.

  “You think Mr. Chandler could kill him?” she asked curiously.

  “Ma'am, don't interrupt our work, we are just doing our job.”

  “Don't worry Mr. Chandler, I'll contact our family lawyer. Everything will be fine. I'll contact your sister. The neighborhood will support you fully.”

  They took him to the car and drove off.

  ****

  The detective came down to the reception desk rubbing his eyes. His hair was tousled and disorderly. He didn’t seem to care about his appearance at the moment. There were far more important things going on in his life at the moment; he had been glued to his computer, trying to crack this case. And yet the receptionist had interrupted him, saying that Mike was there to see him. He supposed it wasn’t so bad; he needed Mike to ID someone.

  He called Mike to his office. The office was cluttered with papers; it was obvious that he hadn't slept since he began working on this case. The detective was happy that they had a suspect. He only needed Mike to confirm that he knew the suspect. And if so, then BAM! One criminal identified.

  “Nice to see you again detective. It's good that you’re working so hard on this case,” Mike said. “I can’t think of a better man-“

  “First things first, we need you to identify the man we think might be behind all this.” he interrupted.

  “Okay,” Mike agreed. Anything to help catch Tommy’s killer.

  They headed to the investigation room, where seven men were lined up. He looked closely at their faces, but there was no one he knew in the lineup. He said so.

  “Are you sure that you don't know anyone?”

  “Positive,” he answered confidently.

  “That's it, thanks for coming. Now tell me why you’re really here. I know I don’t have telepathic powers.”

  “I found Tommy's diary, he knew something, a secret.”

  “What secret?”

  “He didn't write about it. He said he was in danger.”

  “Do you have it with you?”

  They headed back to the office as they talked. The detective was very excited.

  “Yes, here it is.”

  Mike handed him the journal and scanned the room while the detective read. The detective perused the first few pages, then stopped. The information that Mike had given him was enough to work with for now. He would read the entire journal later that night.

  He opened the last page and saw the number written there.

  “Whose number is this?” the detective wondered as he took the phone from its cradle.

  “I don’t know, I tried it, but I didn't know the person who answered on the other end.”

  He dialed the number; it rang several times, and then went straight to voicemail. “You have reached Arnold Banks, I'm not available at the moment, but you can leave me a message after the tone.” It was Arnold’s voice. He returned the phone to its cradle and wiped his face.

  “Why the long face?” asked Mike.

  “This number belongs to Arnold Banks,” he said slowly.

  “What about him?”

  “He was murdered today in his apartment. Apparently, the witness we have says there was a strange woman in his house. Unfortunately, the witness is an old woman with a faulty memory.”

  Mike wondered if it was Jenna. Tommy had tasted liquor the day he died. Could Jenna be the person they were looking for? His thoughts were interrupted by Detective Cole.

  “The suspect looks innocent to me. I think we are dealing with an experienced serial killer.”

  He looked at the crime scene photos. “He or she uses a drug to kill his targets,” he mentioned.

  “How can a man drug his targets? I think most men use their fists or pistols,” said Mike.

  The detective looked at him, and then back at the crime scene photos.

  “You're right, but our suspect is too old, he doesn't have the energy to fight someone. He also needs something distracting to kill his targets.”

  “I'm beginning to think the killer is a woman,” Mike commented.

  “Can you give me your reason?”

  “I still don't have any reason, but I will prove it.”

  “Don't get involved in this police business, or you'll be arrested for obstructing the code of conduct, and there's nothing I can do about it.”

  “You need my help, so let me help. It was my friend who was murdered.”

  “We don't need your help to crack this, please stay out of this mess. Don't get involved,” he warned.

  Mike left the office. He was more determined now to prove that Jenna was the real killer although he didn't have any way to prove it. He looked at his phone book for Jenna's number; they had to become good friends for him to investigate her.

  Her phone rang twice, and then she answered the phone.

  “Hello Jenna,” he began.

  “Hi Mike,” came the reply.

  “I don't have to introduce myself again; you already know who I am. I'm calling to update you on the case.”

  “Yes,” she sounded intrigued – was it an act? “What happened?”

  “Ano
ther man was killed today and the police think the killer is the same one who killed Tommy.”

  “Do they know who did it?”

  Jenna sounded awfully interested.

  “They already have a suspect.”

  This drew a sharp gasp from her, which made Mike more convinced than ever that she was the killer.

  “He's an old man, a neighbor of the deceased.”

  “Poor man, do you think he did it?”

  “Of course not. They are working on the other suspects they may have on the case.”

  “I'm glad they are doing their job. I would love to see the person who did this behind bars. Tommy was a good man.”

  “You're right. He was indeed a good man.”

  “Are you sure he was not in the club where you were supposed to meet that night?”

  “Yes I'm sure, why do you ask?”

  “No it's nothing.”

  “Okay, let me know when something comes up.”

  He hung up and went to his car.

  ****

  Jenna wondered why Mike would ask her if she had met with Tommy that night. Everything was becoming complicated and she didn’t like it. She wanted to resign and she couldn’t do it if there were still loose ends to be tied up. If it meant getting Mike out of the way to get out of this mess, she would do it. He was becoming a nuisance. She paced back and forth, not knowing that everything would soon crumble down. She was done killing people. She wanted to change.

  Jenna heard a knock on the door. She peeped through the hole, gasped, and opened the door.

  “Hello ma'am, we're the police.”

  They showed their badge.

  “Is something wrong officer?”

  “No, we want to ask you a few questions regarding Tommy's case.”

  “Come in, I'll be glad to help.”

  They looked around the room. It was well organized and it was obvious that whoever lived there did not bother with decorating.

  “How did you two meet?” the officer asked.

  “Oh, with Tommy? We were sitting at the bar counter together and we talked about how we hated clubbing.”

  She smiled as if it brought back memories.

  “Where were you the night he died?” He took notes.

  “I was with a friend.”

  “Can we know your friend’s name?”

  She stayed quiet for a while, and then looked at him in the face.

  “Rick, we went to high school together. Tommy stood me up; I felt lonely and called him to come over.”

  “When you last talked to him, did he tell you anything that would help in this case?”

  “No, we only talked about our boring lives, nothing more, and nothing less.”

  “We have to verify with your friend that the information you gave us is true.”

  She took a paper and a pen and jotted down an address. She looked calm and convincing. She handed them the paper and the officers left. Jenna went to the phone and made a phone call. The phone was answered immediately.

  “It's an emergency. That's why I called.” she said quickly to avoid confrontation.

  “What do you mean an emergency?”

  “The police just came here, something's not right,” she spoke quietly.

  “Just act calm, you know what to do.”

  “I gave them your address.”

  “What?” She pulled the phone away from her ears.

  “I needed an alibi. They interrogated me, and I was nervous.”

  “What did you tell them, I don't wanna contradict your story?”

  “I was stood up then I called you. We spent the entire night together in my place.”

  “Okay, don't let the boss know about our conversation.”

  “I'll try to control things from my end. Mike will update me on the investigation.”

  “Who's that?” he raised an eyebrow.

  “He's a friend of the deceased. After he gives me what I need to know, I’ll eliminate him.”

  ****

  Mike entered the bar; it was quite different from the first night he came to pick up Tommy. It was very quiet during the day. He had two photos in his hand. One was of Tommy and the other of Jenna. He walked directly to the bartender. He didn't want to raise any suspicions. He went and sat down and ordered a drink.

  “You look nervous, is this your first time in the club?” asked the bartender as he poured him a drink.

  “Yup,” he looked around to see if there was anyone around.

  “You need a tequila, you look horrible.”

  “Yes, anything.”

  “People drown their sorrows in alcohol, but it doesn't help.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yes, I get a lot of those every day.” he continued to wipe the glasses. “What do you need? Some advice on how to get a girl?”

  “Have you ever seen either of these two?”

  He placed the photos on the counter. The bartender looked at them, and then back at him.

  “Yeah, two times, actually.”

  Mike filed the information away, his mind working overtime.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive, the first time I saw them, my shift was over. I forgot my keys so I came back to pick them up. And the second time, I was working the night shift. They came and left together. You know, I was wondering how a nerd like him would date a cutie like her.”

  Mike went silent and stared at him. The bartender went on and on about how Jenna was so, so beautiful. “An angel on Earth.”

  “Did you see where they went?” he tossed the beer aside.

  “Are you a cop?”

  “No, just a curious friend.”

  “I hate cops. Let me confess, I was and am still interested in that cutie, so I gave them the number of a cab driver I know. A good friend actually. He told me he didn't drive them home because they went to the guy’s apartment down the block. I really wanted to know where she stays. Guess I’ll have to wait.”

  “So they went to the apartment together?”

  “Hey, that's what I just said. You deaf, man, or what?

  “Did you see her leave or your friend?”

  “No man. We never followed them.”

  “Thanks for the information.”

  He paid for his tequila.

  “Hey, before you leave,” he turned to look at him. “Can you tell me her address?” he continued.

  “Stay away from her,” was all he said as he walked away.

  ****

  Detective Cole looked at his watch as he walked back to the crime scene. He felt something was not adding up. He bent under the crime scene tape and walked through the crime scene. He noticed a shoe mark, as if someone had taken their shoes off in a hurry. He bent and looked closely; he hadn’t noticed this until now. The shoes obviously belonged to a woman. No man wore high heels. This was very interesting. What if Mike was right and the killer was a woman? He thought. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone. Mike was calling him. He answered the phone call.

  “Hi, detective.”

  “Hi, are you okay?”

  “Yes, I just wanted to know if there was any progress on the case.”

  “I've noticed some shoe marks and I think you were right. The killer might be a woman.”

  “I knew that man was innocent.”

  “He's innocent until proven guilty, but right now we can't jump to conclusions. We have to find the real killer or an innocent man will pay for something that he didn't do.”

  “Let me know how I can be of help to the case,” he said.

  “Actually, I wanna know how you knew that the killer was a woman,”

  “Can we meet? I can’t do this over the phone.”

  He looked at the clock, and then spoke in a low tone.

  “Let’s meet in a bar. It’s safer there,” the detective confirmed.

  “Ok. Come to the bar next to Tommy’s place. You ca
n talk to the bartender yourself.”

  ****

  Detective Cole turned up his collar as he stepped out of the office building on Bellevue Avenue. He chatted for a second with a woman – a coworker who was headed north. The detective walked the other way after they parted. Across the street, Jenna followed several paces behind.

  He had left the office early, and it was weird. He felt a little out of practice at what he was doing, involving someone else in police business. He hadn’t done this kind of thing before. On Fifty Sixth Street, he stopped in front of a store window, seeming to admire a shirt. He continued, taking a call on his cell. On Fifty Fourth, he made a right, heading west.

  Jenna crossed after him, twenty yards behind. Tall, with thick, black hair that came over his collar, Jenna realized how handsome Cole looked. It wasn’t hard to notice why she was drawn to him. Halfway down the block, he opened a glass door and went in.

  The place looked like a restaurant during the day. Jenna felt uneasy and didn’t want to get noticed, but she wanted to see who he was meeting there. She went up to the door, and through the glass, she saw Cole remove his coat and hand it to the waiter. She realized that this was the bar she had met Tommy in. She frowned.

  It seemed like he was expecting someone there. The waiter pointed at the table and Detective Cole went to meet Mike. She watched as he greeted Mike and took a seat. What could they be talking about? She thought. It had to be about the case. Mike was getting closer to the truth, and this bothered her more than she cared to admit.

  The bartender sat next to Mike. They were seated at the far end of the bar. Mike wore a nicely tailored jacket and open blue shirt. Cole found a nook at the opposite end. The female bartender came up, and they all ordered a beer. Some beer for the occasion, she thought. Through the shifting of their bodies and faces, she watched them carefully, trying to read their lips.

  She heard the waiter’s deep-throated laugh.

  Cole took a sip and looked at Mike.

  “So, anything I should know?”

  “I think Jenna, Tommy’s girlfriend, went with Tommy that day.”

  “Again with this Jenna thing, I thought you had a clue that could lead us to cracking this case but I was wrong.”