The Art of Murder

by Rebecca Muddiman

  ‘Nick?’ Lynch said, and Nick glanced at his lawyer who had advised him to say nothing. But Nick knew, as well as the other officers did, what that meant. He had something to hide.

  ‘I was outside the apartment because I knew my wife was having an affair with Michael Fisher. I was driving when I saw Fisher on the street. I’d already seen him at the apartment so when I saw him today, I followed him. I guessed he was going to my apartment, to sleep with my wife. I planned on confronting them.’

  ‘So…’ Azrah said. ‘You were waiting for what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Once I got there, I faltered. I didn’t know if I should go up there. Karen and I are getting divorced, you know that. Maybe it’s not my business anymore who she sleeps with. I was wondering if I should just let it go. But… what can I say, I’m a jealous guy.’

  He saw the eye roll from Azrah but focused on Lynch. If he had to do this, he would answer to his boss, not to her.

  ‘So, you were outside, considering your options, under the impression the man who’d gone into your apartment was sleeping with your wife. Then what?’ Lynch asked.

  ‘Then I heard a gunshot. So I ran across the street and into the apartment where I found Detective Khan standing over Michael Fisher. Next thing I know I’m being arrested.’

  ‘How did you know where the gunshot came from?’ Azrah asked.

  ‘I’ve been a cop long enough to know how to locate where the gunshot came from. I didn’t know for sure it was my apartment itself, but I knew it came from the building.’

  ‘So you just rushed in,’ Azrah said.

  ‘I was worried about Karen.’

  ‘All right,’ Azrah said. ‘Let’s pretend that’s true.’

  ‘Detective,’ Lynch warned.

  ‘So you were at the apartment today because you believed your wife was having an affair with Michael Fisher and you wanted to confront them about it. Or you were at least considering it.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘And was this the first time?’

  ‘The first time for what?’ Nick asked, wondering what she was getting at. Did they know? Had someone seen him at Fisher’s house? Or at the 7-11?

  ‘The first time you considered confronting them? How long had you known about the affair?’

  ‘Not long,’ Nick said. ‘I saw him leaving my apartment a few days ago, I think. I made an assumption but had no proof. But then I saw them together again later. Saw them kissing.’

  ‘And you didn’t confront them then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I felt humiliated, I guess. My ego was bruised. But I didn’t want Karen to know that.’

  ‘So what changed?’ Lynch asked. ‘When did you decide that you would confront them? Did you change your mind before this afternoon?’

  Nick knew it was decision time. He had no idea what they knew but if anything was going to hurt him, it was his link with Elena Jones. Should he come clean about that? Plead stupidity in not logging it, in not making the connection between her death and her complaint the day before? Or should he continue denying everything, hoping God was on his side? ‘I guess so.’

  ‘So you did confront them?’ Azrah said. ‘Both of them or just one?’

  ‘Just one.’

  ‘Who? Your wife or Michael Fisher.’

  Denial or stupidity?

  ‘Fisher.’

  ‘And where did that take place?’

  ‘Outside the store where he works.’

  ‘And how did you know where that was?’

  ‘I followed him.’

  ‘Okay,’ Azrah said. ‘And what happened?’

  ‘Not much. I asked him to get in the car. I told him I knew and asked him to back off.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing. He refused. Which is why I went there today.’

  ‘And was that it? Did you meet with Mr. Fisher at any other time?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So you didn’t go to Michael Fisher’s house?’

  Denial or stupidity? ‘I did but he wasn’t home.’

  ‘So you’ve never been inside his house?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And how did you know where Mr. Fisher lived?’

  Nick felt his mouth go dry. He could hardly say he followed him again, not if he was claiming Fisher wasn’t home. He could feel sweat pooling at the bottom of his back. He glanced at his lawyer, wondering if he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

  Nick looked up at Lynch, his expression pitiful. ‘I messed up, all right,’ he said and saw the look between Lynch and Azrah. But if they were expecting a full confession, they were out of luck. ‘I didn’t follow Fisher to the 7-11. I already knew he worked there.’

  ‘How?’ Azrah asked.

  ‘Because on Saturday night, Elena Jones came here to report an assault. She said someone had tried to kill her. It was passed on to me and I said I’d look into it. I went to the place she told me her attacker worked, the 7-11 in Queens. She had no name, except a fake one. So I looked at the personnel files. And when I did, I saw a familiar face. The man who was sleeping with my wife.’

  Nick put his head in his hands. ‘I really messed up. I was so focused on the fact that this guy was screwing my wife, I didn’t even consider he was the guy who attacked Elena, never mind that he could be the goddamn killer we were looking for. I just wanted to go over there and warn him off Karen.’

  Nick let out a long shuddering breath, chancing a look at his colleagues. He wasn’t sure Azrah was buying it, there was probably little he could say to convince her, but Lynch could possibly be persuaded.

  ‘I went over there that night but there was no answer,’ Nick said, quickly calculating if it was more risky to stay almost truthful or not. He still didn’t know what they had or who’d seen him when. ‘I tried again a couple of times. Once yesterday afternoon and again later that night. There was never anyone home.’ Nick’s eyes pleaded with Lynch again. ‘I kind of forgot about Elena Jones. I maybe didn’t take her seriously enough because she didn’t want to make it an official complaint. I wondered if it was a hoax. And then after seeing Michael Fisher’s picture, I forgot all about her until the next day. I tried to call her, see if she could ID her attacker from the 7-11 personnel files, but she didn’t answer and then it slipped my mind. I know I messed up. If I’d been thinking right, maybe I could’ve stopped it. Maybe she’d be alive.’

  Lynch’s face was neutral but Azrah’s showed utter disbelief.

  ‘So you were determined to talk to Fisher,’ she said. ‘You went to his house several times to speak with him. Did you ever go inside?’

  ‘No,’ Nick said, certain there was nothing to prove otherwise. Everything hung on him not going inside. If he’d been in, they could argue he knew that Fisher was The Decorator before that day.

  ‘And after you couldn’t reach him at home, you went to the 7-11 and talked there?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And at this point, were you aware that Elena Jones was dead?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe. I read it in the paper but I can’t recall when.’

  ‘But we know the story was printed on Monday morning,’ Azrah said. ‘And you’ve mentioned that you tried to locate Mr. Fisher three times later that day, finally reaching him that evening.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, when you were chatting with him that night, didn’t it occur to you that he might have something to do with Elena Jones’s murder? It didn’t seem a bit of a coincidence?’

  ‘No. As far as I was concerned, Fisher wasn’t the man who attacked Elena. There were other men who worked at the store who were closer to the description she gave.’

  Azrah looked to Lynch before turning back to Nick. What did she know? What did she have? Nick wished she’d spill it.

  ‘See, I don’t believe you, Nick,’ she said. ‘I think you’ve told us part of the story because you know how this works, you know that there’s too much that could come back to bite you. So
I think you’re trying to act the idiot when, as much as I dislike you, I don’t think you’re a bad cop. I don’t think you’d forget about Elena Jones like that. I think you’re trying to cover something.’

  Nick said nothing.

  After a couple of beats, Azrah pulled some photos from a file that’d been sitting on the table the whole time, the unknown contents bothering him.

  ‘This was taken on Monday afternoon,’ Azrah said, sliding the first photo towards him. ‘That’s you, right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And can you tell me where that is?’

  ‘Outside Michael Fisher’s house,’ Nick said, pushing it back towards her. ‘So what? I already told you I went there.’

  Nick wondered if this was the best they had. But then, who had taken the picture? Who had been watching him and for how long?

  ‘True,’ Azrah said. ‘But the thing is, the person who took this, they claim that they watched you leave the house. That you’d been inside.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Okay. Take a look at this one.’

  She passed him another photo, this time of him and Fisher talking in his car. He shrugged again. ‘So what? I’ve already told you I met with him.’ Nick looked at Lynch. ‘Is there a point to this?’

  ‘Look at the time it was taken. You left the crime scene at Cas Nazan’s house to go and meet with Michael Fisher. Now, I know you said you were keen to talk to him, but was it really so urgent that you left a crime scene to talk to him about your soon-to-be ex-wife?’ Azrah held her hand up. ‘Actually, I do believe you were talking about Karen, but I don’t think you were asking him to back off.’

  ‘I don’t know what to tell you. I admit it was an error of judgment, but that’s it. That’s all I’m guilty of.’

  ‘We also have a witness who said you were hammering on Fisher’s door a little while before this picture was taken. She said you seemed extremely keen to find him.’ Azrah turned to Lynch. ‘I don’t know, boss. It doesn’t seem to me that talking to your wife’s lover would be your most pressing concern in the middle of a murder investigation.’

  Nick looked to Lynch but his expression was still neutral. Nick wondered if they could feel his foot tapping beneath the table.

  ‘Let’s talk about something else,’ Azrah said. ‘Tell me about Alison Goodwin.’

  Nick clenched his jaw.

  ‘Did you know her?’

  ‘A little.’

  ‘In what capacity?’

  Nick stared at Azrah. Was she really going to make him say it? ‘I visited her club a couple of times.’

  ‘What for?’ Azrah asked.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘So you admit you went there for sex? Which you paid for?’

  Nick didn’t reply for a moment but Azrah was clearly playing hardball. Eventually, Nick nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What’s this got to do with my client’s relationship to Michael Fisher?’ Nick’s lawyer asked, looking from Nick to Azrah.

  ‘Alison Goodwin was another victim of Michael Fisher,’ Azrah said. ‘She ran a club, ostensibly a private club for women, but it was actually a high-end brothel.’

  Nick saw the look on his lawyer’s face but didn’t acknowledge it. He just stared back at Azrah and said, ‘Which is irrelevant.’

  ‘Is it?’ Azrah said. ‘What went on in there isn’t really my concern. That’ll be someone else’s investigation. But the fact is, Nick, you withheld information that could’ve been useful to this investigation. Why would you do that?’

  ‘Why do you think?’

  ‘And not only did you not come forward, I believe you were hoping to destroy evidence linking you to Alison Goodwin and her club.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘So you didn’t try to make sure it was you who searched the place? You didn’t engineer a way to get time alone in the office there?’

  ‘No. I was concerned about my reputation. Obviously I’m not proud of my actions, but that had nothing to do with this.’

  ‘Maybe, but between covering up your relationship with Alison Goodwin, as well as covering up your connection to Elena Jones–’

  ‘I didn’t cover that up. I–’

  ‘Right, you forgot. A detective with over fifteen years’ experience completely forgets a case he’s in the middle of investigating. And doesn’t connect the murder of the same victim to the man she reported the night before? Doesn’t think to log any of it? Doesn’t think to mention to the investigating officers that he’d talked to the victim the night before?’

  Nick’s chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing the life from him. He wiped the layer of sweat from his top lip.

  Azrah continued. ‘See, all that, along with these meetings with Michael Fisher, and the timings too… It doesn’t look good.’

  ‘I know it doesn’t look good. I should’ve told you about Alison but I didn’t want to lose my job. And I fucked up with Elena and I have to live with that. But I knew nothing about Fisher and who he really was. How could I?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Azrah said. ‘Maybe from being in his house? Seeing his exhibition on his bedroom wall?’

  ‘I told you. I never went into his house.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Azrah said and reached for an evidence bag. ‘So how did this get in his bedroom then?’

  Azrah held up the evidence bag. Inside was his lighter, the one he’d been looking for for days. The one he’d lost days before he ever went inside Fisher’s house. And he knew. It was Karen. She did this. Who else would have access to the lighter? Who else would’ve been following him for days without asking any questions? Karen knew and went to Azrah fucking Khan about it and they plotted together to screw him over.

  ‘It is yours, isn’t it? We also have the phone you used to communicate with Fisher.’

  ‘I don’t know anything about any phones,’ Nick said but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He couldn’t believe Karen had fucked him over.

  ‘We found one in your car and the only number that’d called it was the one Michael Fisher had in his possession, one he said you gave him.’ She held up a hand again, stopping him from speaking. ‘And I know you could say someone else put it there. There are no prints on it. But we have someone out there checking every store in and around the city. I’m sure we’ll find out who bought the phones sooner or later. So? You want to tell us anything else?’

  Nick shook his head.

  ‘You know,’ Azrah said, ‘your wife was the one who figured it out. I was planning on bringing Fisher in as soon as she brought it to me, but she had a feeling we should wait. I guess a marriage can get a little stale when you’ve been together so long, but one benefit, or maybe in your case it’s a disadvantage, is that you know each other inside out. She knew you’d be out there waiting. You wanted her dead and then you wanted to come in like the big man and bring down the guy who killed her. You wanted this to be your story.’ Azrah shrugged. ‘I suppose now it is. But I guess not quite the one you were hoping for.

  ‘But you know what? Karen just thought you wanted her dead. That’s it. That you only kept what you knew about Fisher to yourself to serve your own agenda. But I have to wonder if there isn’t more to it. These links to Alison and Elena, as well as Karen. Was there anyone else connected to you?’

  ‘What’re you talking about?’ Nick asked.

  ‘You could’ve prevented the deaths of Elena Jones, Cas Nazan and Phoebe Devereaux, so I have to wonder, how many of the others you could’ve stopped. How much you knew.’

  ‘What? Who’s Phoebe Devereaux?’

  ‘Fisher killed someone else last night. You didn’t know?’

  ‘No,’ Nick said, the feeling of nausea rising. What had he done?

  ‘Not only did you not bring Fisher in, you covered for him.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So I have to think, what else did you cover up?’

  ‘I didn’t know about the rest of it! I had no idea who Fisher was.’


  ‘We’ll see, won’t we,’ Azrah said. ‘Fisher hasn’t admitted anything but I don’t think he much likes to share credit. To be honest, I’m surprised he copped to your involvement at all.’

  Nick’s head dropped into his hands. He couldn’t see straight. He was going to puke. They thought he was involved from the start? Like what? A sidekick?

  He knew he’d been an idiot. He should’ve walked away from Karen a long time ago. But he’d fucked up. He’d lost everything. His job, his home, his freedom. Azrah was right about one thing, he’d be getting a lot of media attention but not the kind he wanted.

  And what the fuck would his parents say?

  81

  Karen

  Karen was enjoying the empty apartment. It seemed unlikely Nick would be coming back soon. Azrah had told her they had plenty of evidence against him and that she was looking beyond Nick’s plot to have Karen killed, that it was possible he’d been involved with Michael Fisher from the start. Karen wasn’t sure she believed that. Not that she didn’t think Nick was capable of terrible things, he’d more than proved that he was. It was just that if Nick was going to kill people, he would do it alone. There was no way in the world he would share the limelight with someone else, least of all someone like Michael Fisher.

  Fisher seemed to be enjoying the attention and Karen had wondered if Nick would accept the situation and do the same. Maybe he could spin this whole mess into gold. That he’d be selling his story wherever was buying. Instead, he’d been keeping his head down and his mouth shut.

  It didn’t stop the media from speculating though. Nor did his silence mean his face wasn’t splashed all over the news. There was a seemingly never-ending cycle of pieces about Nick and Michael, many of them picked over by Peter Aronsen.

  Then there were the “almost victims”. A woman named Maria Newsom had been identified as one of Michael’s intended victims. But she’d cut off contact with him once she’d reunited with her boyfriend and planned to move to Paris. She was now a regular on TV and in the papers. As were many others who’d come across Michael. His colleagues, his neighbors, anyone he’d ever spoken to in a bar. Each one of them regaled reporters with stories of how they knew him and what they’d suspected, and how close they’d come to being victims themselves.