Chapter 13

I took a deep breath and ran through the events of my day for the detective:

1. 09.30 AM Arrived at estate gate and went to golf club to set up for class

2. 10.00 AM to 11.00 AM Ran through exercise class.

3. 11.05 AM to 11.10 AM Finished class and spoke to Mrs. O'Shea

4. 11.10 AM to 11.50 AM Packed up after class. Showered, changed and had lunch at club.

5. 11.50 AM Walked from clubhouse to Mrs. O'Shea's house.

6. 12.00 PM Arrived at Mrs. O'Shea's house and discussed exercise program.

7. 02.00 PM Left the house as courier arrived with parcel. Returned to clubhouse.

8. 02.15 PM to 05.00 PM Played a round of golf by myself. Did not remember seeing anyone else.

9. 5:30 PM Talked to David at security as I left about some passes for golf club entry.

10. 6:00 PM Arrived at home.

Detective Stark slammed his hand on the desk in frustration, and told me to go over it again.

"I've repeated it ten times already, what do you want from me?" I pleaded

"I'm waiting for you to tell me when you killed Mrs. O'Shea." Stark roared.

I yelled back at him, that I didn't kill her and that she was very much alive when I left her house. "Talk to the courier guy - he saw me leave when he was making his delivery." I croaked, my throat dry and burning from hours of talking.

"We are still making enquiries as to his whereabouts, but security clocked him out at 2:20 PM." Stark drank from his coffee mug. "You, on the other hand, had ample time to sneak back to the house from the course."

"Why would I kill her?" I asked Stark

"The usual motives are love and/or money, but we checked your background and you have plenty of money, even though you don't appear to have a regular job." again Stark sipped from his mug, using the time to compose his thoughts for his next statement.

"So maybe it was for luuvvv" Stark slurred the final word sarcastically.

"... Maybe she wouldn't leave her husband for you. Maybe there was an argument and you lashed out and hit her. Big, fit guy like you hits a little harder than you mean to, catches her on a soft spot and down she goes." Stark took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, inviting me to elaborate on his theme, perhaps hoping that I would seize the opportunity to claim involuntary manslaughter.

We had been at this for hours - since the police came to bring me in for questioning at six this morning. I was the prime suspect in the homicide of Mrs. O'Shea, and while the case was far from closed the police had me and that seemed to be enough for them. There was a knock on the door and Stark went to talk to someone outside. He came back and told me I could go, as my legal team had made arrangements for my release.

Mom and Mai were waiting for me with a tall, well dressed man who I assumed was my "legal team". Mom introduced me to Mr. Leroy Laurent who was head of the company's legal department. He shook my hand and then hustled me through a door and down the fire stairs to the basement car park. I was confused - if I was free to go why was I being smuggled out of the building? We got into a large black sedan with tinted windows at the back. As we got to the top of the exit ramp I realised why we went out the back - a large crowd of media people were waiting around the front. Seeing our car waiting to turn into the traffic, they made a mad scramble towards us with cameras flashing in the afternoon light. I hadn't realised I had been inside nearly all day. Mr. Laurent saw an opening in the traffic and we were away just ahead of the crowd.

Mr. Laurent took us to an office block downtown. He parked in the underground security car park and we went upstairs to a sparsely furnished office.

"OK, we should be clear of the media here for a while but I'm sure someone will rat us out sooner or later, for a few dollars from the press." said Mr. Laurent

He paced the room in deep thought before giving Mom and Mai orders for things we were going to need like food, drinks, and a change of clothes for me. While they went for supplies Mr. Laurent asked me to run through the events again so he could decide how he would defend me against the charges when they came.

I repeated myself as I had to Stark. Mr. Laurent had a mini tape recorder running, getting everything down as I spoke. When I finished he looked straight at me and then asked me the one question Stark had not done: had I had sex with Chelsea that afternoon? I answered honestly and he just nodded. Then the questioning began in earnest as he picked and probed at my story trying to find any holes that could be exploited by the prosecution in the event it went to trial.

He told me to call him 'Leroy', and explained that all the police had at the moment was circumstantial evidence - stuff that placed me at the house around the time of the murder - but nothing to actually link me to the crime. He explained that even if the courier admitted seeing me leave and Chelsea still alive, it didn't mean that I hadn't come back later and killed her. He took out his phone and made some calls, then told me to relax because this could take a while.

Mom and Mai arrived back after an hour with some fresh clothes and Chinese takeout for dinner. Leroy received several calls and made a few more calls himself, always telling us to relax as he had people working on the case. We all ate and settled in for the night, watching TV but avoiding any TV coverage of the murder.

The next day was a waking nightmare, with my picture all over the morning papers as the police's "suspect of interest" in the murder of a wealthy young socialite. The usual media sources had spilled all my private life into the early editions. There were quotes from club members and from people living on the estate. One paper had even found photos of me with Anne as well as with Alex and Maisey, and they all seemed to know that I didn't work full time. I was described as everything from a lady's man to a layabout, and as one paper put it I had a penchant for young, athletic women and didn't care who knew.

Leroy tried to calm us by suggesting that it would all blow over as soon as the police had some hard leads. At that moment his phone rang. Mom, Mai, and I looked at the papers spread across the dining table stunned by how much they could dig up on a person in such a short time. Even Anne was trying to put some distance between us, claiming I had been employed as a trainer for a one month trial and that I had left her on the tour a few weeks back. This sparked suggestions that the murder was payback for not employing me full time. It just got worse and worse as each quote led to more wild accusations and speculation by the media.

"Could be good news" said Leroy as he returned from answering the latest call. "The courier didn't return to the depot yesterday, and he didn't go home, either."

We were all asking questions at once and Leroy waved us down explaining that often the couriers didn't go back to the depot if they had undelivered parcels, so they would have some early morning calls the next day. He also said that the guy may have stayed somewhere else last night. In any case the police were still looking for him. I got up and paced around the room, frustrated at not being able to do anything. Leroy's contacts continued to call and leave news, and take new instructions. At midday he took a call, then announced that he was going out for a few hours to talk with the police. He told Mai she could leave, but asked Mom and I to stay put and not to worry.

Several hours later Leroy arrived back and he was mad. He pointed at me and just said "here". I followed him into the next room. "Have you any more secrets you would like to tell me about?" he glared at me as he paced the room.

"Like wh... what?" I stammered

He then proceeded to rant about how the police had the video of Anne and I and that I hadn't told him I was having a sexual relationship with the daughter of the deceased. I tried to point out that she was only a step-daughter, but he wasn't listening as he walked the room talking to himself about how this added a lot more complexity to this case. Now the police had several lines of thought on the case and they all revolved around me. He quickly turned to me and asked if I had had sex with Alex and Maisey in order to get them to buy all the property that resulted in my sudden wealth. I told him that yes, I had had sex with the girls, but that I didn't think that was the only reason they bought the properties.

He stopped walking and then burst out laughing, finally telling me he was happy I didn't think I was such a big stud that women would do anything to sleep with me. His phone rang again and he was promptly back to business mode. As he finished his call Mai arrived with more food, but Leroy excused himself, saying he had to go. He asked us to sit tight and said he would see us in the morning.

The next day's papers still carried the story on page one, I was praying for a war to break out somewhere - anything to take the news attention off this case. And now Anne's father was painting me as some sick individual who would force himself onto a man's wife, as well as his daughter. Again, there were the side comments from "people" who had heard I was sleeping around with a number of married women on the estate under the guise of working as a "handyman". It got bleaker as old photos from the society pages emerged with me on the arm of Tracey at a number of A-List celebrity events.

Leroy made several flying visits to ask me questions and to get some ideas straight in his head, and each time he would be off again with the ever-popular "don't worry" phrase left hanging in the air. Mom decided to venture out as she needed some time alone to think. Mai stayed with me and told me, as a loving aunt should, about the perils of married women.

"You should have stuck to my contacts and this would not have become a problem." she told me over and over.

Mom came back after a long walk. She had ice cream, so the three of us sat on the sofa eating straight from the tub. Leroy arrived about 9:00 PM with the news that the courier van had been found just before dark at the bottom of a cliff not far from the estate. One of his operatives was at the site and would contact him as soon as the crime scene guys cleared out.

"They were not sure if the driver was in the van when I left, so hopefully we'll get a call soon." he explained

It was close to three hours before the call came in. Leroy took it and talked in hushed tones before hanging up. He turned and found the three of us sitting on the edge of the sofa looking expectantly at him. He took a deep breath to settle himself and then filled us in on the details. The delivery van had gone over a cliff but had been caught up in the thick tree canopy and had not hit the ground. The driver was still strapped into his seat and was dead. It appeared though that he was most likely killed before the van went over because there was a wound to the back of the skull and no damage to his front.

Since it was after midnight Leroy left and we all went to sleep a little happier because we could not see the police linking me to two murders. We awoke next morning to find we were wrong.

Leroy was back at six and told me to shower and dress as he had to present me to the police at seven for further questioning. It seems the courier had not only been struck from behind, but also in the same manner and with the same weapon that had been used on Chelsea. We arrived at the station and I was taken to the same room as before. Stark was waiting, coffee mug in hand, ready to begin all over again with the same questions. This time he had video coverage of the van leaving the estate, and of my car leaving a few hours later and turning the same way.