I'll Kill Her for You

by Steve Richer

  Fuck! Lawson had never been this scared in his life. He’d often wondered what would happen to him in a situation like this. Would he hide and play dead or would he rise to the occasion, proving his leadership and selflessness?

  Now he had his answer. He was a coward.

  Instinctively, he ran toward the kitchen, anything so he wouldn’t become the second victim. But there were no more shots. Before Lawson was even out of the living room, he caught sight of what happened next.

  The killer tossed his pistol on the floor, kicking it next to Addie, and then he ran out of the apartment.

  “Oh God…” Lawson mumbled.

  Mustering every ounce of courage he had, he turned around just in time to see the killer disappear. Then he spun toward Addie. He dropped to his knees, his eyes riveted to the two gaping holes in her chest which were oozing blood. What should he do?

  Taking a cue from the thousands of movies he’d seen, he applied pressure to the wounds but it was too late. He looked into her eyes. They were lifeless. She was already dead.

  “What did you do?”

  The voice startled him and he turned toward the front door which was ajar. Bailey was standing there, looking at him kneeling by a corpse.

  Strangely, his first thought was to wonder how she had managed to climb up. He decided she must have come in as the murderer exited, before the door fully closed.

  “Bailey, did you see him? Did you see the killer?”

  “What did you do, Lawson?”

  She thought he had killed her! He pleaded, “I didn’t do this, I swear.”

  As he said this, police sirens became louder. There was no question about it, they were coming for him and running would make him look even guiltier.

  “I swear I’m innocent, Bailey.”

  It was obvious she didn’t believe him. Once again he was all alone.

  Chapter 19

  Lawson was a bit shocked that the interrogation room wasn’t as stark as he’d anticipated. He’d always thought these things would be completely empty, the walls white, with stainless steel furniture.

  Instead, it seemed like he was sitting in a break room at the moment. The walls were taupe, with the paint starting to peel in places. The smell was a mixture of disinfectant and burnt coffee.

  There were public-service posters everywhere about the importance of being vigilant of suspicious activities, others encouraging you to report sexual assaults or advocating a tobacco-free environment. The lighting consisted of bright neon. The door didn’t seem sturdy. Lawson therefore didn’t feel like he was under arrest.

  Except he was.

  His hands were handcuffed and hooked through a ring bolted into the table. It wasn’t really uncomfortable but it was humiliating. All his worst nightmares were coming true.

  He knew he had made the right decision not to run away when he’d heard the police cars racing to the apartment. A part of him thought that he could have managed to get away though.

  He could have disappeared on the spot, trading his coat for a different one with a homeless person, and in the process becoming anonymous. Maybe Bailey would have given him up, he still wasn’t sure about it, but he definitely could have put some distance between them.

  Then it would have been a matter of vanishing. He could have gotten John or his friend Tom Marulli to go to his place in LA to get the cash he kept there. And then what? Mexico? Canada? He could have taken the family yacht and go to a non-extradition country.

  On the other hand, this would be like taking out an ad in the New York Times to reveal that he was guilty of Addie Burgess’s murder, which he wasn’t. In reality, Lawson knew that he was screwed either way. Whether he stayed or ran away, the cops would think he was guilty. By staying put, he was betting that the truth would come out.

  As Lawson glanced at the handcuffs, he was rethinking his position on the matter.

  How had the police arrived so fast anyway? He had just gotten to Addie to try to help her when he heard the sirens getting louder. There was no way in hell someone – Bailey? – had called them after the fact. No, to get that particular timing, somebody would have had to call 911 before Addie had even been killed.

  This meant the murderer had planned for this. He had called the police and timed it so that it was Lawson who would be caught in the act.

  “It’s not going well for you, Mr. Winslow.”

  He looked at Detective Munson who sat across the table from him. He found himself searching for a stain on her white blouse and he almost laughed out loud when he spotted a faint one halfway down her chest. It was red. Ketchup or jam?

  “I’m innocent,” Lawson said.

  Her partner was on his feet, pacing. He snickered. “You know how many times we hear that innocent crap? A lot. We hear that a lot. And you know how many times it has helped? Never.”

  “There’s a first time for everything. Even you, Detective Kwon. I’m sure you’ll get laid for the first time one day.”

  The Asian investigator growled and came forward but Munson stopped him with a slight gesture of the hand. That worked and he backed off, going back to pacing.

  “Mr. Winslow, here’s something you ought to know. You would have been sitting here in this room whether or not that incident with Addie Burgess had happened.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  Kwon snorted. “You were kneeling over her body, your hands covered with blood.”

  “I was trying to save her life! Somebody else killed her.”

  “We’ll come back to that in a minute,” Munson said. “I want to talk again about Sue Parnell, the victim from your family’s apartment.”

  Lawson shook his head. “I’m not discussing that. I’m keeping my mouth shut until my lawyer gets here.”

  “Of course, sure. It’s absolutely your right. But while you don’t have to legally talk to us, we can talk to you.”

  Lawson didn’t say anything because he knew she was right. The woman smiled although it wasn’t in a mean way. In fact, she looked like a gentle teacher doing her best to help a wayward student.

  “I hope you understand that things are not going well for you, Mr. Winslow. It doesn’t look that way but I’m an open-minded girl. I believe you were speaking in good faith when you told us you didn’t know Sue Parnell.”

  “I don’t.”

  Munson smiled in a tightlipped way, cocking her head to the side. “Unfortunately there was no good faith, I was wrong. Don’t be sneaky, okay? We know you’re lying. You knew the victim.”

  “What? No! Never saw her once in my life.”

  “Cut the bullshit, man,” Kwon said.

  “Sue Parnell was an aspiring actress and she was in one of your movies.”

  Lawson frowned. To this day, he hadn’t really produced a movie. “Uh?”

  “Gut Punch Beach, you’re listed as an executive producer.”

  “Oh come on,” Lawson groaned. “I was a no-show producer on that movie. You know what that means? It means nothing! I got the script in turnaround, sold it off to another company, made like twenty grand in profit, and they gave me an executive producer credit. I wasn’t involved at all in that film, which was a total turd, by the way.”

  “You were still a little involved, Mr. Winslow. Production of this movie was wrapped on November 17 – not this year, last year. There was a big party at…” Detective Munson turned to her partner. “Where was the party?”

  “The downtown Los Angeles W Hotel.”

  “And you know what’s scary about social media, Mr. Winslow? Tagging, geolocation, timestamps. It’s not big brother keeping tabs on people anymore, it’s people doing it to themselves. We saw pictures that prove Sue Parnell attended this party. And you were at the same party.”

  Kwon came closer and put a folder on the table. He opened it to reveal printed photograph showing Lawson smiling drunkenly to the camera, a drink in his hand. There were other pictures of the girl at the party, dancing and having fun, but there were no pictures of the tw
o of them together which meant they didn’t have any.

  “There is no coincidence in this job,” Munson continued. “She was an actress, you were involved in her movie, you’re at the same party. You knew her. You knew her and you kept that from us when we asked you. You lied to us.”

  Lawson managed not to gasp out loud but he couldn’t keep himself from sinking into his chair and balling his hands into fists. They were right, he realized. He hadn’t lied to them but memories rushed back at light speed.

  He did know Sue Parnell after all.

  The pictures made him remember that party. It had been a warm night and the atmosphere was electrifying. Even for someone like him who partied all the time, this one was a smash hit. The music, the crowd, the mood, everything was perfect.

  Come to think of it, it must have been because of how he felt. Even though it wasn’t his movie per se, Lawson had felt proud of being taken seriously for once in the business. Yes, the memories were coming faster and faster.

  He had danced with a dozen models and actresses that night, had flirted with each of them, coming on strong. But the only one who’d been responsive had been that girl. She’d been an extra in the movie and obviously had wanted to become more.

  He might or might not have suggested that he could make her a star. He couldn’t quite remember but it was plausible. That’s all it had taken for her to cling to him and after six cocktails, it was exactly what he wanted. He hadn’t been foolish enough to bring her to his place so he rented a hotel room. He only had hazy flashes of what they’d done that night.

  She had been gorgeous and fun to be with but, as always, Lawson hadn’t been looking for anything serious or permanent. He’d made an early exit the next morning, promising to call and making sure she didn’t have his number. If she tracked him down through his office, Midori knew how to shoot her down. God knew she’d done it often enough, it was practically in her job description.

  “Mr. Winslow,” Munson began. “You want to change your testimony? You knew her, didn’t you?”

  Lawson parted his lips, about to stammer a response, when the door opened.

  Jesus, now what?

  Chapter 20

  A uniformed officer stood in the doorway and John Tilley walked right past him, entering the interrogation room.

  “Hello, everyone,” he said jovially. “I see that you’ve been considering my client’s constitutional rights and didn’t question him without his attorney present, that’s nice.”

  Detective Munson was impassive but Kwon was seething. Lawson smiled with relief.

  John turned to the cops. “Are you going to charge my client with anything? If not, we’re walking out of here.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they were inside John’s BMW, the engine on and both of them rubbing their hands together in front of the vents, hoping for some heat. Lawson didn’t have gloves anymore since the police had taken them into evidence because they were covered in blood.

  “I shouldn’t ask but I will,” John said. “You kill her? Addie, I mean.”

  “No, I’m being framed again.”

  Lawson told his lawyer everything, from hiring Bailey, her finding out about the Addie-Fred connection, and the masked man showing up to shoot her.

  In return, John explained that the police only had circumstantial evidence against him. That was why they hadn’t charged Lawson yet. They most likely didn’t have gunshot residue on his gloves but they were still checking. Everything else was conjecture.

  “You realize they won’t let go of you know, don’t you?”

  Lawson nodded, only half listening. This whole thing had been planned for a long time. If only he knew why…

  They both stopped to pick up Chinese take-out and returned to Lawson’s hotel. It was a mistake. There was already dozens of reporters and paparazzi waiting like hawks.

  “Lawson, look this way!”

  “Why did you kill her, Lawson?”

  “Was it a sex thing?”

  John was like a deer caught in headlights but Lawson had more experience, pulling him along through the lobby. He did his best to ignore the vultures and they made their way upstairs where they ate in silence. The atmosphere was too heavy for pleasantries. Being called a murderer generally had this effect on people.

  “You should change hotels,” John said after they’d finished their dinner.

  Lawson shrugged and swallowed half a beer. “And go where? It’s a big city but these bastards will find me anywhere.”

  “I know but this is getting ridiculous, man. Don’t you have a model girlfriend you can crash with? The more they put you on TV and in papers, the more people will believe that you’re actually guilty.”

  “Christ…”

  Lawson stood up and paced through the sitting area. The TV was tuned to HBO, just to have something in the background. It was a mistake. It only reminded him that his movie career was being torpedoed as well.

  “I think it’s time you get yourself a real criminal lawyer.”

  “John, you are my lawyer.”

  “I can set up a corporate document like nobody’s business, don’t get me wrong, but what you need is a shark, okay? You need one of those slick OJ Simpson lawyers.”

  “And that won’t make me look guilty? Give me a break!”

  “Hey, you want to my professional opinion, that’s why you hired me to represent you. I’m telling you how it is. This, murder implications, mounting evidence, I’m out of my depth here.”

  “You really think so, John?”

  “We’re at that point now. The cops won’t let go of you, not with what they have. With Christmas, it’s gonna be a bitch to track somebody down, somebody good, but in a couple of days you should be in good hands.”

  Lawson exhaled and shrugged. He had no response to this. He drained the last of his beer and wished they’d bought more than a six-pack.

  There was a knock at the door and instinctively he looked at John with worry. Reporters again? The police?

  “Lawson, it’s Bailey.”

  With relief, he went to the door and he found her alone. “You heard I was out?”

  She nodded as she walked in and he hurriedly locked the door behind her. The first thing she did was look at the six empty beer bottles on the table.

  “I know, you don’t approve.”

  “Actually, I was looking for a fresh one for me.”

  “Ha,” Lawson snorted in laughter. “I managed to corrupt you. What do I win?” He motioned for her to sit down. “We’re out of beer. Scotch okay?”

  “Sure.”

  He found his Johnnie Walker and poured three glasses which he distributed before sitting in the armchair. He then realized Bailey and John didn’t know each other so he made introductions. They took their first sip in silence and John winked at him.

  It was hard to miss the subtext. He was wondering if Lawson was sleeping with her. Lawson shook his head and rolled his eyes. This was probably the first time in years sleeping with a woman hadn’t been on his mind.

  “Are you here undercover for the NYPD or did you finally realize I didn’t kill Addie?”

  “I know you’re innocent.”

  “That’s great to learn,” Lawson said. “That now makes two of us.”

  “Three,” John pointed out.

  “Three, awesome. We could be the next Nirvana. Or Charlie’s Angels. What changed your mind? I mean, you obviously thought I was the killer when you walked into the apartment.”

  Bailey took another sip of her drink, did her best not to wince as she swallowed, and then looked at her boss in the eye.

  “I remembered all the guilty people I arrested or interviewed back when I was a federal agent. You weren’t like them. You hired me to find out the truth and I think you really mean it.”

  “I do.”

  “And if you had wanted to kill Addie Burgess for some reason, you wouldn’t have done it when you knew I was about to show up at her apartment.”

  “Bailey, did y
ou see the killer? I assume that’s how you got in. He left in a hurry and you caught the door before it closed.”

  She looked away, thinking. “I don’t know. The door was closed but not all the way, it’s how I was able to get in. There might’ve been somebody walking down the sidewalk but I didn’t pay attention. Sorry.”

  John frowned and sat up straighter. “Maybe there are CCTV cameras in the area? Maybe there’s an image of the killer somewhere.”

  Bailey nodded and swiftly pulled out a notepad to write this down.

  For his part, Lawson was thinking about something else. This was a good lead but a cloud was hanging over his head.

  He said, “There’s one thing that really bothers me.”

  “Just one?” John asked with a grin.

  “Okay, two: the ongoing popularity of Pokémon and the fact that the cops were able to link Sue Parnell to me.”

  Bailey was confused and Lawson explained to her about the detectives accusing him of having known the girl. He told her about the movie, the party, and their tenuous connection.

  “What bothers me,” he continued, “is that it’s so random.”

  “Meaning?”

  “The dead girl, Sue Parnell. I met her once in my life. She was just an extra in a movie, she never did anything else in the industry. We had drinks, we fooled around, and I never saw her again. This was over a year ago. There’s no way the cops were able to find this on their own. Shit, I didn’t even remember. Someone had to tip them off about it.”

  John’s eyes were bulging as he reeled from this new information. “Wow. You think it’s the blackmailer? That means he’s been planning this for a long time.”

  “That means whoever’s doing this is a serious threat,” Bailey pointed out.

  They all pondered this in silence. The ramifications were scary.

  Chapter 21

  Also scary was the tablet coming to life on the coffee table. It was the melody of a Skype call. Lawson didn’t let go of his drink as he turned the device toward him. It was his brother calling.