Chapter 6

Strickland took me into the police station, and I was placed in a holding cell. After an hour, I was taken to another room. I was joined there by a younger guy. About 25 or 26 years old. He was dressed in a button-down shirt, dress slacks, and brown loafers. I don’t know what he had been told about me, but even handcuffed, he wouldn’t come near me. For the next 45 minutes, he asked me questions. Things like, did I get angry for no reason? Did I want to hurt myself? Other people? Did I use drugs?

As we talked, He seemed to calm down and moved closer to me when he sat down. I explained to him that I was a discharged Marine. How I had been wounded in Iraq. And some of my problems here at home.

Finally, I described my conversation with George, how my workout routine helped me sleep, and then my arrest. When He asked about the bloody nose. I didn’t mention that a cat had jumped in front of Officer Strickland’s car. Instead, I explained that I had tripped and fell. I don’t know if he believed me or not. He didn’t go any further into it.

He sat back in his chair and looked at me as if he was contemplating my honesty. Then he leaned forward and said, “Mr. Kidman, I have been asked to do a psych evaluation on you. The police feel that you might be a danger to yourself or others. I see no evidence of that. I will write up my report and recommend that you be released. This may take some time. Please be patient, and I’ll see that you get released as quickly as possible.” He shook my hand as best as he could with me being in handcuffs and walked out.

It was noon by the time I was released. Fortunately, I had my wallet, ID, and my emergency credit card when Strickland busted me. When I tried to call George and then Mom, I got no answer. I finally called a cab to get home.

As we got close to the Cul de Sac, we were stopped by a cop directing traffic at the intersection. When I explained that I lived in one of the houses, he looked closer at me and got an almost panicked look to his eyes. He pulled his sidearm and ordered me to get out of the cab.

For the second time in 24 hours, I was in handcuffs and sitting in the back of a patrol car. A plainclothes officer soon joined us.

“Mr. Kidman, I am Detective Killebrew. Where have you been for the last 12 hours?”

I explained to him about Strickland arresting me, being in the holding cell downtown, and the mental evaluation I had gone through. I even gave him a case number. Killebrew was writing notes through all this.

“So, you haven’t been home since early this morning? That you were being held downtown by the police? That the neighbors can verify that this all happened at around 2:00, or 2:30? The neighbors can also verify that your mother was present when you were arrested?”

“That’s correct Detective, could I ask what this is all about?”

As he was climbing out of the patrol car, he said. “Give me a minute, Mr. Kidman. I need to make some phone calls.” He stepped around to the front of the car and started making calls on his cell phone. After 45 minutes, he came back and told the patrol officer to take the cuffs off. “Mr. Kidman, I needed to verify your story. We had been given some incorrect information about you.”

“That’s OK, Detective, but why are you here? What’s going on?”

He paused for a moment, his eyes downcast. “Mr. Kidman, this is one of the hardest parts of my job. It’s best I just come out with it. Mr. Kidman, Jim, your mother is dead.”

Hearing this, I felt a rush of blood from my head. I staggered. Killebrew grabbed my arm and sat me on the curb. “Take it easy, Mr. Kidman. Take a couple of deep breaths.”

“How did it happen? She was an older lady. Was it her heart, a stroke?”

“No, We’re not quite sure right now. She was found at the bottom of the stairs. At first, it appeared that she might have been pushed. But now, after talking to you, I’m not so sure of that.”

“Your brother George, He found the body and called 911. He told us that you had been having difficulties adjusting to civilian life. That he had feared, you might hurt your mother. Obviously, that isn’t the case. You have a solid alibi. We’ll need to wait and see what the coroner says before we can say this was a murder. But he placed the preliminary time of death while you were in custody. That and the neighbors give you a solid alibi.”

I was numb. My mind felt like cotton, and my arms and legs were leaden and tingling. When I tried to stand, I staggered again. Detective Killabrew grabbed my arm. “Are you alright, Mr. Kidman? Do you need to see a doctor? We can call an ambulance for you.”

“No, I’ll be alright. I just need to get my bearings.” I was able to stand by that point. Detective Killabrew helped me to the house. As he walked with me, he was writing on a business card. When we got to the door, He handed me the card. “Mr. Kidman, here is my card. I’ve written down the case number for this. If you need any help, or you can think of something about the case, please call me, Anytime.”

I was running on autopilot at that point. I thanked him as I went through the door.

Standing in the entryway, staring at the foot of the stairs, I could hear somebody making noises upstairs. I called out, “Who’s there?”

Everything grew quiet. Then George came out of Mom’s room. He was holding a handful of papers. “JIMMY! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in jail.”

“What do you mean, George? Why should I be in jail?”

“Well, well, I mean, “ He stuttered. “I mean, the cops, they told me that you killed Mom. That you were going to be arrested for it.”

“They told you wrong, George. I was in jail when Mom died. Strickland had arrested me again last night. They were giving me a mental evaluation for most of the night. I didn’t get released until noon. George, why did you tell the cops I had mental issues? You know that I’m not crazy. I’m certainly not dangerous. So why did you say I was?”