Back to the Drawing Board

Inspector Charles' mind was a labyrinth. So many twists and turns were sprouting in his head. Like a spider web with no beginning and no end. He was suffocating inside it. He tried to reach for the surface but he felt something pulling him back into the deep. Into the cosmic nothingness.

He stood staring through his window onto the dark and empty street. He was silent, looking hard…at nothing in particular. He had told Clarissa to sit on a bench in the waiting room. James was standing behind his desk, right beside the chair Clarissa had been sitting in. Finally, the inspector spoke. 'How did he die?'

'Sir, I've already told you twice…'

'Yes, but I want to hear it a third time. Now tell me; how did Doctor Jacob die?'

James sighed. 'Murder, sir. He was murdered. The same way Brittany Bale and Justin Foyer were: countless and deep gashes in the spine, dismembered body parts: arms, legs, torso and head.'

There was a short silence between them.

'And where did you say you found him?' the inspector asked.

'Merchant's Creek; that small river a mile out of Malrich. A lumberjack called it in a few hours ago. I could have called you before I got here, sir, but I figured that this was something I had to tell you face-to-face.'

The inspector turned around, slowly. He nodded towards the chair.

James obediently sat down, placing his hat on top of the desk.

'Do you know what this means?' the inspector asked him also taking his seat.

'Sir?'

'It means we've been wasting our time trying to build a case against Bale's ex-boyfriends and Clarissa Sherman and yet the real killer has been out there the entire time.' He grabbed a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and wedged one into his mouth. He offered one to James but he politely turned down the offer.

The inspector carried on, 'And the worst part about it, James, is that the connection we had between Bale, Foyer and Sherman was quite solid…very convincing. It made so much sense, James. Perfect sense!'

James lowered his head repentantly. 'With all due respect, sir, I think we should call in the detectives. People who have dealt with these kinds of cases before because putting it simply, sir, this is way too much for us to handle. It's beyond our scope. These murders are truly professional. And I'm sorry to say this, sir, but these are cases we can't solve.'

The inspector drew twice from his cigarette. He took it out of his mouth and flicked it in James' direction. It narrowly missed him. It bounced off the desk and onto the floor.

James looked aside, almost shamefully.

The Inspector looked straight at him. He said, 'You're an idiot, James…and a coward.' He clasped his hands on top of the desk. He went on, 'We already know what the doctor's last words were. "A case I worked on before"…but I've worked on many cases.' He rubbed his head slowly. He snapped his head back, 'Alright, James. Here's what we're going to do. Tomorrow morning we're going to make house calls: Foyer's friends and anyone else who had anything to do with him. In addition to that, we're going to retrieve all of the doctor's patient files from his office and take a good look at them. Any patient that looks too suspicious: I'm talking criminal records, distorted behaviour, drug and alcohol abuse and all of the other things that point to deviant activity, we'll investigate them. As of this moment, they're all suspects. But first, I want you to get Miss Sherman into the car and take her home. But I don't want you to give her the impression that she's off the hook. Just get her home and tell her that we might contact her in the near future.'

'Yes, sir,' James said before standing up. He put his hat back on and marched towards the door. He stopped and turned around. 'And the public, sir?' he asked.

'We'll keep this one on the down-low for the moment. Right now, it's back to the drawing board.'

Clarissa walked through the front door at 10:12 P.M. She watched Deputy James drive off down the road, back to the police station. She closed the door slowly, and softly. She locked it and began to tiptoe towards her room.

'Clarissa.'

She almost jumped. She looked to her right. It was her mother sitting alone at the kitchen table. She was in her red nightgown. 'Mom, you startled me,' Clarissa said and began to walk towards her.

She sat across her mother. 'Why aren't you in bed yet?' she asked.

'What did they say?' her mother sidestepped her question. She looked exhausted but gravely serious. They were both whispering, obviously not wanting to wake her father up.

Clarissa answered, 'They said they'll contact me if any new evidence against me pops up…'

'Clarissa…' she blinked very slowly, '…what did they say?'

She sighed. 'Just the usual scare tactics, mom. They claimed they could bring me down for Justin and Miss Bale's murders.'

'Motive?'

She sighed again, rolling her eyes. 'The inspector has this ridiculous idea that Justin and Miss Bale were dating and me being the bitter ex-girlfriend, grabbed an axe, ambushed them and went to town on them.'

Mrs. Sherman rubbed her eyes with both her hands. She was clearly very exhausted.

'It's okay, mom, they've got no case. They know I didn't do it, it's just that they've never handled a murder case before and them developing this crazy theory gives them something to cling on to, just until they find the real killer.'

Her mother placed her hand of top of hers. She rubbed it gently. 'Claire, if the inspector really does have evidence against you and is hell-bent on having you go down for these murders then your father and I will hire the best lawyer money can buy and we will fight this till the very end, but baby, I just want you to continue avoiding that Murphy boy…'