by Parker Paige
“I’m sure I wasn’t the only person here, besides Bruce Colby, I mean.”
Detective Uhler examined his small note pad, then the sign-in sheet.
“There is a record here of Ms. Rose signing out at about six thirty.”
“And what does that tell you?” she asked him.
“It tells us that you, Blue Ivy, Bruce and God knows who else were here in this office last night.”
“Well, for the record. I did not kill Bruce Colby. I’m sure it’s the question on everyone’s mind.”
“We’ll make firm note of your firm denial,” Detective Lane said. “For the record.”
“Is there anything else you want to tell us?” Detective Uhler asked.
“No,” Camina said.
Detective Uhler glanced over his notes and then glanced over at Detective Lane. “It seems Ms. Rose came in this morning and immediately left back out.”
That was all Camina needed to hear. It was so obvious who the culprit was.
Camina pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “I guess you won’t be needing me anymore.”
“I didn’t hear you ask if you could leave,” Detective Lane said.
“May I leave?”
“You may leave,” Detective Uhler said. “But we’ll talk again.”
As Camina moved towards the door, Detective Lane stepped to the door and opened it for her. His one gentlemanly act failed to change Camina’s image of him. She still saw him as a smart ass with a badge.
Camina was about to step through the door when the same uniformed police officer rushed in.
“Detective Uhler, remember the other woman, Laura Moore, the one who called in sick?”
“Yeah.”
Camina stood still, listening, her eyes on the police officer.
“She just showed up,” the police officer said.
“What is this?” Detective Uhler said. “Everyone wants credit for this murder?”
Through the conference room door and down the clustered corridors, Camina hustled through. She was glad to be out of the hot seat and relieved that they were through with her. She wanted to talk to Laura before the detectives made their mark and warn her of what to expect. But most importantly, she wanted to know what Laura knew.
Camina approached a pack of people in the reception area and saw Rollie talking to one of the police officers. Patiently, Camina stood across from them and waited for them to finish, trying not to look too obvious. When Rollie separated from the police officer, Camina trailed behind him. She was practically on his heels when he turned around, and they almost smashed into each another.
“Sorry,” Camina said. “Do you know where Laura is?”
“She’s in the small conference room on the east side,” Rollie said. “They’re going to question her.”
“Thanks.”
On that note, Camina hurried to the east side of the office. She made her way into the conference room and saw Laura at the table. Laura appeared dreary eyed and half asleep. In front of her were notes of paper and receipts of some sort.
“Hey,” Camina said as she closed the door behind her. “I guess you heard what happened.” Camina crumbled in the seat next to Laura.
“I don’t understand why they want to talk to me,” Laura said. “I wasn’t even here last night.”
“With the description Rollie gave to them, they’re covering all tracks.”
Camina leaned closer to Laura. “Listen,” she said in a whisper. “They’re on their way down here so I have to say this fast. We both know who killed Bruce.”
A surprised look flashed over Laura’s face. “We do?” Laura asked.
“Of course we do. It was Blue Ivy or Blue, whatever she calls herself these days.”
“We don’t really know that.”
“Who else could it be? It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t you.”
Laura seemed to ponder the thought.
“Plus they found his ring and belt in her desk drawer,” Camina said.
“How do you know this?”
“I overhead the police officer telling one of the detectives. They’re going to ask you some questions and try and shake you up. Just tell the truth, and you’ll be all right.”
“Why are you so concerned, not to sound ungrateful, but it’s so unlike you.”
Before Camina could reply, she turned, saw Detectives Uhler and Lane coming through the door. Camina witnessed the suspicious look on their faces. Not the least bit intimidated, she stood up. “I was just leaving.”
“Laura Moore?” Detective Uhler questioned.
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Uhler and this is Detective Lane,” he said, as he seated himself across from her, holding his tiny note pad in hand.
Detective Lane stood by the door, his hands in his pockets.
“Was that a friend of yours?” Detective Uhler asked.
“Yes, we’re friends.”
Detective Uhler peaked at his notes.
Laura stared down at the table in front of her. This whole experience unnerved her, and she could only continue if she shared no eye contact with them.
“We’d like to ask you some questions about last night.”
“I thought so.”
“How late were you here last night?”
“I was here until almost five, left promptly because my boyfriend and I had dinner plans. I have everything written down for you.”
She handed him a handwritten list, then returned her hands to a neatly folded position in front of her. Before Detective Uhler could even read the list, Laura continued. “We had reservations so you can call and verify that. After dinner, we saw a movie at 600 Michigan Theatre, and I have the ticket stubs right here. The ticket agent will remember us because─”
Detective Lane interjected, as she sat down.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but why are you staring down at the table. Your answers might be a bit more convincing if you looked up when you spoke.”
Still very nervous, she continued to stare down at the table though she tried to accommodate his wishes. She lifted her head and looked in Detective Lane’ direction.
“Thank you,” Detective Lane said. “Go on.”
Laura held a straight face devoid of any emotion as she continued. “After we left the movie theater, we went back to my place, showered and made love until about three-thirty this morning, which explains why I was a little too out of it to come in. We awakened early, made love again and here I am.”
The detectives peered at each other, exhausted just listening to her.
She returned her eyes to the table in front of her. “Now. Is there anything else you want to ask me?”
“Did you kill Bruce Colby?” Detective Lane blurted out.
“I wasn’t even here.”
“Just answer the question.”
“No. I admit when he used to make vulgar remarks about my hair and figure, I was a little angry with him, especially since I knew that he was married, but that was that.”
“So what happened?” Detective Uhler asked.
“Nothing happened. I told him where he could get off.”
“And what did he say to that?” Detective Lane asked.
Laura glanced over at Detective Uhler, then Detective Lane. For a moment it appeared as if they were enjoying this line of questioning and would not be satisfied until she answered all of their questions, no matter how trivial.
“When I told Bruce I wasn’t interested,” Laura said. “He informed me that he was going to change my mind.”
“Did he?” Detective Uhler asked.
“No, he didn’t.”
“You never slept with him?” Detective Uhler asked.
“No.”
“Never?” Detective Lane asked again.
For a moment, Laura remembered Camina’s warning. Obviously, the word no seemed to be an unacceptable answer, as if they thought asking her the same question over and over would somehow produce a different answer.
From the long silence in the room, they seemed unsatisfied with her answer.
“No,” she said. “The answer is still no. N-O. I did not sleep with him, and I did not kill him.”
A faint smile arose on Detective Uhler’s face before Laura returned her point of focus to the table in front of her.
“Why did you call in sick this morning?”
“I told you already. I had an exhausting night.”
Detective Lane interjected, scooting closer to her. “Then why did you later come in?”
Laura lifted her head and turned away from him. “I found out what happened and thought it might be in my best interest to come in so that I wouldn’t look─”
“Guilty?” Detective Lane asked, finishing her sentence.
“Yes.” Laura turned to face him.
Detective Uhler glanced over his notes, seemingly confused.
“What I want to know is how a strong man like Bruce Colby could be strangled by a woman?”
“Rage has a way of giving people an exorbitant amount of strength,” Laura said. “Then again, maybe it wasn’t a woman. Maybe it was a man dressed as a woman, wearing a wig. Did you think about that?”
Laura witnessed the stunned look on Detective Uhler’s face as he glanced over at Detective Lane, as if considering the possibility of her words.
Laura was relieved because she believed she successfully threw them off her trail. To give them even more to think about, she added. “And he did have a heart condition.”
“What do you mean, heart condition?” Detective Lane asked.
“He was on some kind of medication.”
“Who else knew about this?” Detective Uhler asked.
“A lot of people.”
“Did Ms. Givens know about this?”
“Maybe.”
Detective Lane grabbed the ticket stubs from the table, examining them with a meticulous eye. He seemed to study them for a long time. He then directed his attention to Detective Uhler.
“Now this is interesting,” Detective Lane said.
“What?” Detective Uhler questioned.
Detective Lane handed the ticket stubs to Detective Uhler. Detective Uhler scratched his forehead as if he stumbled onto something. “I can’t believe I missed that,” Detective Uhler said.
A blank look graced Laura’s face as she suffered in silence, wondering what they saw that she didn’t.
“This ticket stub is for the 15th of November.”
Clueless, Laura waited for his words to sink in, but she wasn’t grasping it.
“So?”
“Last night was the 22nd.”
“Let me see that,” she said. In disbelief, Laura reached for the ticket stubs, scrutinized them with a careful eye and focused in on the date. To her dismay, they were absolutely right. How could she have made such a big mistake?
If they believed her before, they sure as hell didn’t anymore. Even though she was definitely where she said she was, she failed to prove it. Instead, she unintentionally destroyed her wonderful alibi. With a don’t-tell-anyone-I’m-stupid look flashing over her face, she stared down at the table in front of her and picked up her face. “I don’t know what to say. I must have grabbed the wrong ticket stubs by mistake.”
“Do you always keep old ticket stubs?” Detective Uhler asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Why?” Detective Lane asked.
“I don’t know, a habit I guess.”
“Are you sure you were at the movies last night?” Detective Lane asked.
“Yes,” Laura said sharply after having maintained a certain amount of composure thus far. “I have the ticket stubs from last night. I just have to get them.”
Both Detectives Uhler and Lane displayed a doubtful look on their faces as they simultaneously removed their glasses at the same time.
“They’re at home,” she said. “I can go home and get them.”
Detective Uhler ignored her suggestion, scribbled some notes on his note pad and stood up. “You can go, Ms. Moore.”
Laura didn’t hesitate at all. She rose up fast and moved towards the door.
“Ms. Moore,” Detective Uhler said. “Don’t go too far. Okay?”
Moments later, Laura was gone.
With each passing minute, Blue Ivy felt her world growing dark as she stood in the shower, her back against the wall. She turned off the water, but didn’t move for a long time. In a coma‑like state, she pondered, hoped and prayed for this day to be over. She considered returning to her office, but she couldn’t, not yet. It would look too suspicious, but then again if she didn’t return, they would come for her. After all, she was a suspect.
She stepped from the shower and stood at the mirror. She studied her bloodshot eyes, looping brown hair and the somber look on her face. Now would have been a good time to crawl back to Dr. Kern’s office, but she managed to even screw that up by halting her sessions with him.
After slipping into her fire engine red bathrobe, she headed for the kitchen and grabbed the phone from the counter.
She left word with the receptionist that she would not be in due to personal reasons. She stood barefoot in front of the refrigerator, embracing the silence.
If ever a morning existed when she needed a drink, this was the one. But she forced herself not to. It was part of her problem. Instead, she made herself some coffee. She needed to be totally sober and prepared for what was ahead.
As the coffee brewed, a streak of hope invaded Blue Ivy’s mind. Maybe she wouldn’t be questioned at all, despite what Rollie said. Her momentary flash of hope didn’t last long as she doubted herself. For some strange reason, she wondered if she was responsible for Bruce’s death and blocked it from her memory.
After all, everything transpired so fast.
Last night was vivid and a blur at the same time. She tortured herself with the thought that maybe her contact with Bruce did not end with her leaving him in the men’s room. Bruce being strangled possessed all the signs of her kinky tactics. As quickly as she tried to move the disturbing thoughts from her mind, others crept inside her head.
She needed to control her worries. She was not the killer of Bruce Colby. And that was that.
But if she didn’t kill him, then who did?
In the front room, Blue Ivy stood at the window looking out, wondering what to do next. Again she considered returning to her office. Hiding out at home was not doing her any good. If anything, hiding out at home made her look even guiltier.
But she was afraid.
Her being with Bruce last night was suspicious, no doubt, and the detectives were going to want answers.
How would she explain making out in the men’s room with Bruce and then later Bruce turning up dead?
She finally got around to picking up the lamp from the floor, then returned to the window for deep thought. She gazed at the bare trees, studying them as she contemplated what her next move would be.
The loud ring of the phone snapped her out of her focused zone and into the panic zone. Afraid to answer the phone, she stood motionless, nibbling at her fingernails, a habit she had overcome many years ago. It was time to back up off the imaginary cliff she was standing on and think.
She listened to the phone ring for the third time. After letting voicemail pickup, she checked the message and learned that it was Laura and nervously awaited the message.
“Blue Ivy, this is Laura. If you’re there, please call me back. This is important.”
Right after the message played, her phone rang again. The display told her that it was Laura again.
“Hello,” Blue Ivy said.
“I knew you were there,” Laura said.
Blue Ivy did not want to sound as frazzled as she really was so very calmly, she asked. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to make sure you were all right. You know about what happened, everything that happene
d last night, don’t you?”
“I heard about it.”
“Well, the detectives questioned both Camina and myself, and I’m sure they’re going to want to talk to you next.”
“What kind of questions did they ask you?”
“About last night mostly.”
Blue Ivy didn’t have an alibi for last night. At least not one that would save her hide. She was a dead woman, and she might just as well go to the grave, jump in the hole and wait for them to cover her with dirt. With the strong silence penetrating the room, Blue Ivy drifted off to comatose land. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she would explain her whereabouts to the police.
“Blue Ivy, are you there? Blue Ivy?” Laura called out.
Though Blue Ivy could hear Laura calling her name, she seemed too far away to answer.
“Blue Ivy?”
Finally, Blue Ivy returned to her somewhat sane state. “I’m here.”
“I have to tell you. Camina seems to think that you are responsible for the death of Bruce Colby, but I don’t believe her.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Blue Ivy said.
“I know you’re not responsible for what happened to Bruce, so try not to worry too much. Okay?”
After everything that happened, Laura still had faith in her. It was faith that she didn’t believe she deserved, and she was so touched. Even Blue Ivy, herself, wasn’t 100 percent certain that she was innocent.
“I planted a bug in their ear,” Laura said. “Got them to think that it could have been a man wearing a wig or something.”
“Did they think it was possible?”
“They think everything is possible, but it’s definitely something they won’t pass aside, especially after they question you.”
Was that it? Just answer their questions and it would be over? That was her window of hope.
Laura made it sound so simple and so much Blue Ivy wanted to believe it was, but she couldn’t. She knew better.
Blue Ivy hung up from Laura and decided to do the one thing she thought could help her─pray. Maybe if she prayed, really prayed, like she never prayed before, she could somehow dig herself out of this hole she had dug for herself. Blue Ivy dropped to her knees as she had seen so many others do and recited a prayer from her heart.
