AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What are you talking about? I read something about the Monster striking again, but there were no details.”
Ella pulled a crime scene photo out of her folder and slid it across the table. Clarence gave it a once-over. Ella saw the cogs turning, from recognition to panic. There were clear signs of genuine emotion there, but Ella couldn’t discern their qualities. Was it a show of remorse, or was it anxiety at being caught?
“This is... Abigail?” Clarence asked.
“Yes. This is Abigail. Strangled in her kitchen last night.”
Clarence’s shackles clanged as he tried to leap out of his chair. They pulled him back down with force. “What the…? You think I did this? Are you serious?”
“You were with her the day before she died. You spoke highly of her killer. Coincidence?”
Clarence’s fixed his narrow eyes on Ella and said, “Don’t you get it yet? Do I have to spell it out for you?”
The genuine emotion poured out. Ella noted Clarence’s downturned mouth, his widened arms, his dilated pupils. Signs of a truth-teller or a very good actor.
“You’re going to have to spell it out,” Ripley said.
“I didn’t do this. I’mnota killer. I’mnota rampant sexist. This is all an act. It’s all bullshit. I don’t hate women. I’m a normal guy that has to eat and pay the bills like anyone else. This is my job,notmy identity.”
Ella felt a change in the air, like a switch had been pulled and the train had shifted tracks. She sat back, considering Clarence’s statement, mulling over the prospect that what he was saying could have been true.
She went the devil’s advocate approach. “Your criminal history says otherwise. Domestic violence. Assault.”
“My ex was the violent one, but try telling a court that. I was just trying to defend myself.”
“Or that’s a convenient excuse,” Ella said.
Clarence placed his wrists firmly on the table. An attempt at authenticity. “Look into any of my personal conversations with women. I won’t lie, I talk to a lot of girls, date, sleep with them. But I don’t hurt them.”
Ella checked her partner’s reaction. Equally unsure.
“Right,” said Ripley. “Can you confirm your whereabouts the last three nights?”
Clarence looked at his gold watch, the face having shattered during his fracas with Ripley. “I was out with Abigail two nights ago. Other than that I was at home, every night.”
“Can anyone confirm that?” asked Ella.
Clarence shook his head.
“Then we’re going to have to keep you in.”
Clarence bit his lip and held back tears. Ella watched the signals closely, looking for the tiniest sign that might betray his mask of innocence.
She couldn’t see any. It all seemed like a heartfelt display of pure remorse, guilt, confusion. The kind of reaction she’d expect from someone wrongly accused of murder.
Ella guessed she could leave the rest up to forensics, see if anything in his house incriminated him. If he’d killed two or three women, chances are there’d be something in his house that would reveal that fact. A hair strand, a DNA sample, a piece of cloth from the victims’ clothing.
Or Ella could try a different approach.
“Clarence, you were with Abigail two nights ago. Did she say anything about any enemies? Maybe anything that stood out to you?”
“Nothing,” he said. “We only spent an hour together. We didn’t have time to go into detail. She’d just split up with her husband and was celebrating.”
Abigail’s texts had mentioned that her date with Clarence was arranged for eight p.m. If they’d only spent an hour together, that would have given Clarence more than enough time to reach Katherine Parkinson’s place by eleven.
“But you mentioned your podcast to her? Seems an odd thing to mention if you’re just playing a character. Weren’t you worried it would scare her off?”
“I only mentioned I ran a podcast. I didn’t talk about the genre. I told her it was satire, parody, a joke. I highlight the fallibilities of men just as much as women.”
