Bill Harvey Collection

by Peter O'Mahoney

  “I left the bar and went to see my aunt. She was in a grumpy mood—as always—but after a while, we were talking amicably. She was starting to acknowledge my point of view on the Army Basic Training. She actually looked like she understood what I was saying. She truly looked like she understood me. And then she said that we wouldn’t have this problem if I weren’t so lazy and that just set me off. It was like a trigger. I just lost control. I didn’t plan on getting angry, but the more she spoke, the worse it got. She wouldn’t see any sense to anything that I said. She was just being a stubborn old cow. And she was always like that. I should’ve expected it to continue.”

  “And what was said?”

  “We talked about the will.” She avoided eye contact. “I was just trying to talk to her nicely.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “We did at the start… but not in the end. I told her that my grandfather left the money to me. Apart from the two of us, I lost my entire family to the army. My father, my mother, my brother, my uncle—everyone that I was once close to died because of the army. I couldn’t support an institution that did that to my family. I love the veterans, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t commit to that institution. You understand, don’t you?”

  “I understand, but that decision was up to your aunt. Was she willing to negotiate?”

  “She was from that generation where everything was supposed to be done right. You were supposed to serve your country, get married, have kids, grow old. That was the ideal lifestyle. That was their picture of perfection. My aunt had never even traveled to Canada. She didn’t even own a passport, the stupid old bat. She didn’t have any idea what travel teaches you. So, I tried to tell her my point of view… and I truly think that she was starting to listen to me. I know I shouldn’t have got angry. I should have left the apartment when things were going good, and she was listening to me.”

  “Did you shout at her?”

  Anna shot him a glare. “Like I said, I have a mean temper when wound up. I can get pretty wild.”

  “So, you shouted at her?”

  “Yes, we were shouting at each other. We were both shouting loudly.”

  “Loud enough for the neighbors to hear?”

  “Probably. They’re a nosey bunch anyway. They’re all in each other’s business all the time because none of them have anything better to do. Thomas, one of the neighbors, was waiting in the hallway when I stormed out of her apartment. He’s the man from next door.”

  “And what did you say to him?”

  “I told him to go back into his apartment and mind his own business. I was angry. No doubt about it. I punched a wall as I walked down the hallway. The man from next door would’ve seen that.”

  “Did Thomas go into your aunt’s apartment after you left?”

  “No, he did what he was told. He walked back into his apartment.”

  “And how do you know this?”

  “When I was getting into the elevator, I turned around and saw him walking back through his door. I shot him an evil glance as the doors to the elevator closed. I reckon that man told the police that I did it.”

  “I think that the police made the connections all by themselves, Anna. It seems pretty clear-cut from where they sit. Thomas is the one that discovered the body. One hour after you left, he went to check on your aunt. She didn’t answer the door, so he used a key to get in. And that’s when he found your aunt dead on the floor with a copy of the will next to her body.”

  “Are you on their side too?” Anna snapped.

  Harvey took a long, deep breath. “Did you hit your aunt?”

  “No! I didn’t touch her, I swear. I shouted at her because I was angry, but I didn’t lay a hand on her. I didn’t touch her. This wasn’t the first time we’ve had an argument. It’s just the way we communicate. It was nothing unusual.”

  “Have you ever hit your aunt?”

  Anna’s eyes diverted away, and she didn’t answer the question.

  “Anna? Have you ever hit your aunt?” Harvey repeated.

  “I never hit her… but… I pushed her once.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I was seventeen at the time. My parents had passed away, and Aunt Jessica was my legal guardian. I was living with her, and she hated having me in her apartment. She was a real bitch to me while I lived with her. She was jealous of me and the freedom that I had. She thought I wasn’t living life the right way, and she took all her hatred out on me. And one day we got into a big fight about nothing. She could just push my buttons; you know? She deliberately used to say things just to get me angry. I’m sure of that. And she said something really hurtful about my father, so I pushed her. I didn’t plan on pushing her, it just happened.”

  “Was she hurt?”

  “She went to the hospital with a cut on her arm. She fell on a wine glass, but she didn’t need stitches.”

  “Did she report it to the police?”

  “The police came over because she went to the hospital. They had a chat with me, but my aunt didn’t press charges. I didn’t push her hard. It was just a little shove. She would’ve been fine if she hadn’t fallen onto that damn glass.”

  Harvey took his time, writing down his thoughts on his notepad. He then turned his attention back to Anna. “The timeline so far is that your aunt’s neighbor heard you arguing that afternoon. One hour later, he goes into your aunt’s apartment and finds her strangled to death. He called the police, and they arrived within twenty minutes. The police found there was no sign of forced entry or a struggle, which suggests that your aunt knew the murderer.”

  “So, they arrested me because she didn’t know anyone else?”

  “You also have a very clear motive for your aunt’s death. You’ll receive half the inheritance because her death occurred before you turned twenty-five. You’ve made it very clear that you had no intention of completing the Army Basic Training, and you still wanted the money. Half the amount—ten million dollars—is a very strong motive to see your Aunt die.”

  “I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill her.” Anna scratched her arm again. This time, it was more aggressive. “I went back to Jessica’s apartment looking for the hidden camera, but it wasn’t there. Somebody took it, Bill.”

  “Hidden camera?”

  “My aunt didn’t trust her cleaner, so she set up a hidden camera to spy on him. She wanted to make sure that he wasn’t stealing anything. She hid it in the living room, behind a book. When I went back to the apartment yesterday, it wasn’t there. I searched the entire house, but the camera wasn’t there.”

  “There’s no mention of a camera in any of the police reports, Anna, which suggests that your aunt moved it before her death or the killer took it with them. Who else knew about the camera?”

  “Everyone. I’m sure that the cleaner even knew. She didn’t hide it very well. If we find that camera, it will prove that I didn’t do it.”

  Harvey nodded again, scribbling more notes.

  “I like to be honest with my clients to set realistic expectations of the outcomes. We don’t have that camera and nor do the police. In reality, this case isn’t looking good. There’s a lot of evidence building against you. We have a motive and a witness that places you at the scene of the crime. You have a history of angry outbursts, even directly against your aunt, and the neighbor saw you that afternoon. He reports that you were furious.”

  “I know it looks bad, but I swear, I didn’t do it. I swear I didn’t kill her. You have to believe me. I didn’t do it. I didn’t want her to die. The system is supposed to charge criminals, not innocent people. I can’t go to jail for something I didn’t do.”

  “You’re also not that upset by the death of your aunt. That isn’t going to work in your favor if this case makes it to trial.”

  “I know I don’t look upset, but I feel alone now. Do you know what that’s like? To be the last remaining member of your family?”

  “I don’t.”

  “It’s horr
ible. Really horrible. I feel totally alone in the world.”

  Although he had spent much of his life reading people’s actions and emotions, he was uncomfortable with the raw passion that Anna was displaying. Her eyes had drawn him in, but he reverted back to the cold realities of the case.

  “At this point, we only have two options that can clear you of the crime. We can either find a problem with the police investigation—maybe some contaminated evidence or a missed step in your arrest or…”

  “Yes?”

  “If you didn’t do it, then somebody else did.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “Mr. Thomas Feeble, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Thomas Feeble opened the door to his apartment next to Jessica’s, looking up at Harvey with weak, empty eyes. Harvey was a big believer in embedding words into the subconscious, and he felt a surname like Feeble would have set Thomas up for a fragile life.

  “I’ve been told to be careful what I say to you.” Thomas Feeble’s tone was submissive. “The police told me not to talk too much with the defense.”

  “I’m sure that you have been told that.” Harvey nodded. “I’m going to come in for a few moments to talk about your case. You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”

  Harvey framed his words in such a way that Thomas felt like he had no other choice but to agree to Harvey’s statement.

  “Okay.” Thomas opened the door wide enough for Harvey to enter. “But only for a few moments. We can’t talk for long.”

  “Of course.”

  As Harvey walked into the apartment, he stood close to Thomas, ensuring his physical ascendancy in the situation was clear. Intimidation was a factor when questioning a person, and he needed Thomas to know that he was a man that would do what it took to get the information he needed.

  With an open hand, Thomas pointed towards the living room, offering Harvey a seat. Although his apartment was next door to Jessica Lempare’s, his home had a completely different feel. While the apartment was the same size, the furnishings were modest, at best.

  It looked as though Thomas had ordered a house full of furniture from late night television, and had put it all together himself. The couch looked flimsy, and it had Harvey worried that it might give way under his weight.

  The curtains were still drawn despite it being midafternoon, and the layout of the entire house seemed to be pointing towards the television. As he glanced into the kitchen and the main bedroom, Harvey noticed a television in each room.

  Thomas Feeble followed Harvey into the living room; his arms crossed, his shoulders slumped, his eyes darting everywhere. With a mix of Mexican and English heritage, he never felt comfortable in his own skin. He didn’t fit into the right social circles at school, and that rejection had left him scarred for most of his adult life.

  With his closed body language, it was clear this man was keeping a secret.

  “This is a nice apartment,” Harvey commented. “And it’s a very beautiful building."

  “My apartment does the job.” Thomas sat opposite Harvey on a sofa that looked like it folded out to form a bed. “It’s the place where I live.”

  There was one picture of Thomas’s family hanging on the main wall, a picture of a dog on the other wall. Out of the corner of his eye, Harvey noticed a black and white cat amble down the hallway.

  “Do you like animals, Mr. Feeble?”

  “I do. I have three cats, and I used to have a small dog, but she passed away four years ago. Animals are very non-judgmental.”

  “I read that you’re the head of the resident’s body corporate for this building?”

  Feeling his privacy had been invaded, Thomas stared at the defense attorney.

  “What do you want, Mr. Harvey?”

  “I’ve come to ask you a number of questions regarding the death of your next-door neighbor. Let’s start with your relationship with Jessica.”

  “Like I said, I’ve been told not to tell you too much.”

  “We can either have our discussion here, or our discussion will be on the stand in the courtroom. It doesn’t matter to me which you choose. However, I feel that it would be in your best interests to have the discussion here.”

  Looking carefully at the table in front of him, Thomas almost looked like he was searching for the answer ingrained in the wood.

  “I didn’t get along with Jessica, if that is what you’re asking. But that’s nothing unusual,” he said, defending himself. “Nobody got along with her. She was very selfish and very rude. I would see her in the hallway sometimes, and I would say hello, but she would turn her nose up at me. I hated that.”

  “Did you ever tell her that you hated it?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I never talked to her long enough.”

  “Tell me what happened on that afternoon.”

  “I’ve already told the police everything I know. It’s all in the police report.”

  Leaning backward on the couch, Harvey spread his arms out to the side, widening his legs apart. He was taking up space to assert his dominance in the room, letting Thomas know that he was in control of this situation.

  “I’ve reviewed the police report, and I’ve found some things that deserve further questioning. There are particular things that don’t make sense to me, and I would like you to explain them.” He looked Thomas straight in the eye. “The police report states that there was no forced entry into the apartment, and you used a key to get into her place. Do you have your own key to her apartment?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “And was she aware of this?”

  “Yes,” Thomas said as he brushed his nose, covering his face with his hand.

  It was obvious to Harvey that it was a lie.

  During his years practicing hypnotherapy, Harvey learned that when avoiding the answer to a direct question, there were certain tell-tale signs that a person will display.

  A direct question created a spike in anxiety when an honest response would be incriminating. This apprehension triggered the body’s nervous system to dissipate the anxiety, draining blood from the surfaces of the face, ears, and extremities, which in turn created a sensation of cold, or discomfort. Without the person even realizing it, their hands were drawn to those areas, and their body language answered the question for them.

  “Do you expect me to believe that someone who has just stated that they had barely had a conversation with their next-door neighbor, also had their own key to her apartment?”

  “Um, sure.” Thomas shrugged.

  “Was there anyone else in your apartment at the time that you heard someone having an argument with Jessica?”

  “No.” Thomas’s answer was snappy, direct and sudden, and it was clear that he was again lying.

  “Really?”

  “It was just my cats and me.” Thomas’s response was deadpan.

  Harvey wasn’t sure if he was being funny and he should laugh, or if he was being serious. When Thomas didn’t laugh, he continued. “Thomas, I’m going to ask you a direct question, and I’m going to study how you react,” Harvey stated, staring intently at Thomas. He was deliberately applying pressure. “Did you kill Jessica Lempare?”

  “Me? No.” He shook his head. “I didn’t do it.”

  The nerves in his voice were clear. Thomas’s arms folded tighter. There was no doubt that Thomas was hiding something, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  “When was the last time you were in Jessica’s apartment?”

  “Um.” He thought his answer over. “Before last week, I had been in there twice, I think. Once when I had to check the windows for the body corporate and the second time…” Thomas took a long pause. “The second time I went in there when she was screaming at someone. We went there to see if she was okay.”

  “We?”

  “Sorry?” Thomas looked at Harvey confused.

  “You just said ‘we’ went next door. Who is ‘we’?”

  “Um, Manuel. He’s a friend of mine. Just a friend
.”

  “Did Manuel know Jessica?”

  “Yes… Manuel is Jessica’s cleaner. He goes there twice a week to clean her apartment.”

  Harvey made a mental note that Manuel was likely to have the key to Jessica’s apartment. “And what did you hear when there was screaming?”

  “I’m not sure. It was very loud shouting, and it was really aggressive. I don’t hear much through the walls, but I could hear this argument really clearly, so I was worried for her safety. Manuel and I went and knocked on the door while they were still screaming at each other. It was very loud screaming, and I was worried about her. Jessica answered the door pretty quickly.”

  “And Jessica was okay?”

  “She was fine. She told us to go away and mind our own business. We waited out in the hall for a few moments, you know, just to make sure that everything was fine, but the old guy left pretty quickly. I had seen him around before, but not for a long time. I figured they were friends, or that it was her boyfriend.”

  “And how long ago was this?” Harvey continued.

  “I’m not exactly sure. About a month, maybe two months ago. I can’t be exactly sure.”

  “And you’re good friends with Manuel, Jessica’s cleaner?”

  “Yes, but we’re just friends. Just friends. He comes around sometimes, and we hang out. There’s nothing more to it than that. We are just friends. He liked to watch wrestling, just like me. Sometimes we just sit here and watch the wrestling for hours.”

  “Did you use to wrestle?”

  “I did Greco-Roman style wrestling in high-school. That was my sport.”

  “Did they teach you how to strangle someone?”

  Thomas’ mouth dropped open. “I didn’t strangle Jessica.”

  Harvey stared at the man opposite him. His arms were thick, and despite his posture, he was clearly in good physical shape.

  Not that it would’ve taken much to overpower a petite, old woman.

  “Tell me what you saw when you entered the apartment?”

  “When?”