Private investigator Ian visits his friend unannounced, only to discover the man lying in bed, not asleep but dead. Ian resolves to find out how his friend died and, if he was murdered, to bring the killer to justice. But the details of the case are bizarre: the door of the condo unit is locked and the only other occupant is a bodybuilder, Horst, found sitting on the living room couch, half asleep or drugged. Ian calls 911 and the cops, when video footage showing no one entered or left the condo around the time of death, fixate on Horst as the most likely suspect. Ian is convinced Horst is innocent and offers his services to help the police solve the mystery of his friend’s death. But the situation is complicated, not only by the self-contradictory nature of the physical evidence, but by the fact that Ian increasingly finds himself drawn to Horst. Worse, the lead police detective shows increasing signs of interest in Ian himself. Love and death become strangely intertwined, their resolution not easily discovered. Is Horst as innocent as Ian believes? Can Ian help solve the locked-room mystery?

Bliss

I drove down to the station, where I was shown into an interrogation room by a cop who referred to it as an “interview room”. Having been a cop, however, I knew that the distinction between interviewing, questioning, and actual interrogation was merely one of shading. And I knew as well that the shading was something that could change in a moment.


“Hello again,” he said, placing a folder on the table and seating himself across from me. “I just want you to know that you’re not a suspect.”


Currently, I amended in my head, but said nothing. I just smiled and nodded.


He shrugged. Fair enough, I told myself. The guy is trying to make nice this time. I wonder what he wants.


Chapter 8