Well, we don’t know that, Rick. And even if it were, it’s rolling dice. Every day your body survives that kind of abuse is a minor miracle. One day it can catch up with you. It will catch up with you.
It would have been depressing, if I wasn’t already as down as a man can be.
My extra doses weren’t doing a thing for me.
But, Laura continued.
But?
There was something else. That wasn’t enough?
There’s no easy way to put this, Rick, so I’ll just say it. Please do.
There was semen, Rick. Semen?
This was not a word I had expected to hear.
What? Semen? Where?
Where you’d expect it to be, Rick.
Her incessant repetition of my name was beginning to get on my nerves. I knew it was meant to soothe. To placate. Establish rapport, empathy. But it was pissing me off.
That’s impossible, Laura, I said sharply. Come on. Lab contamination or something. We haven’t. We hadn’t. In years. Jesus. Two or three at least.
Yes, she said. I understand that you had said that. Actually, that’s why it seems to be an issue.
I didn’t remember telling anyone that. But then, I didn’t remember much about that day. Nor, I suddenly remembered, about the night before that day.
Something vague and ugly came back to me. But no. No way. That had been a dream. A drunken hallucination.
Not one that I was about to share, with my good friend Harwood in the room.
So what the hell is this? I said. How is this possible?
That’s something we might have to look into, Rick.
Jesus, I said. Jesus H. Christ. She didn’t have a boyfriend. She didn’t have the energy to have a boyfriend. She could barely get off that goddamn couch. For Christ’s sake, she never even left the house.
Laura didn’t respond. The weary eyes of Detective Harwood fixed on mine. I hung my head. I couldn’t return his gaze. I felt an unaccountable guilt. Or maybe it was shame. Because something was going on here. Had been going on here. And I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t have a goddamn clue. And it had been my job to know. I’d let Melissa down. Again. I was only beginning to learn of all the ways I’d let her down.
Or maybe. No. Not that. It couldn’t be that. Jesus. I was a happy drunk. Depressive, sure. But homicidal?
Laura finally spoke. Not you then, Rick?
I lifted my head. I was very, very tired.
No, Laura, I said, with as much dignity as I could muster. Not me.
And you have no idea who?
Jesus, Laura.
I slowly shook my head.
Harwood hadn’t taken his eyes off me.
And, said Harwood.
It was the first word he’d spoken.
I turned to face him. He had that sardonic look. The one that grizzled cops habitually wear. You’re going to lie to me, it says. Everybody does. Always.
He looked at Laura, raised his eyebrows.
Laura cleared her throat.
And, she said. There were signs of…
Signs of what?
Signs of… forcing.
She said the last word softly.
What? Forcing? Rape?
Forcing. I’d rather say forcing. Rape has all sorts of
…connotations, that aren’t necessarily apparent here.
A strange calm descended over me. I’d reached my limit. My emotional life shut down. It could not take any more assaults.
It gave me a certain clarity.
I don’t understand, Laura, I said. I just don’t understand. There was no evidence of…
No. No forced entry. No broken furniture. No disarray.
Except the disarray that was Melissa’s life. Our lives.
Kelly was there, I said.
Upstairs. Yes. In her room.
So, how? How could something have happened?
If we knew that, Rick…
Harwood turned his hound-dog eyes on me again. Jesus, I said, shaking my head.
It was a calculated response. Harwood’s stare was unrelenting. I felt obliged to be as convincing as possible.
So, Harwood said. We need to do some further investigation.
Yes, I said. I understand.
Harwood lit a Marlboro. The smoke made me choke. I coughed. He lifted his eyebrows. As if some comment was expected of me.
I couldn’t think of one. What was the appropriate thing to say, I asked myself, in this situation? They didn’t teach you that in law school.
We need your permission for a few things, said Laura.
Sure, sure. Whatever.
There was a long pause. Harwood smoked. I wheezed. There was something intensely irritating about his passive smoke.
Like what? I asked. You’ve already ransacked the house.
You know, DNA things.
DNA things? You’re kidding me, right?
I’m sorry, Rick. I was trying to get to this gently. We’d like a DNA sample from you. We could get it in other ways, of course. But I thought it better to be upfront about this.
You’re kidding me, right? Laura? You’re kidding?
I felt foolish at my stammering.
Harwood chimed in.
She’s not kidding, Rick.
I tried to remember when I’d asked for his opinion. When I’d told him he could call me Rick. He’d said it with distaste. A curl of the lip. Too much emphasis. She’s not kidding, Rick.
I looked straight into his eyes for the first time. They were yellow, like his face. He blew some more smoke at me.
Clearly this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Fuck you, Harwood, I said.
I hadn’t meant to say it. Just to think it. But it came out.
He didn’t flinch. I guess he’d heard worse.
It won’t be hard to get a warrant, he said, in a bored tone.
I may not have been much of a criminal lawyer, but I knew enough to figure he was right. Cherchez l’homme.
I turned to Laura.
This is really humiliating, I said.
I know it is. Listen. It’s just routine. You know how it works. We want to eliminate you as a suspect. Officially. Get on to the real investigation. No distractions.
