“It smells like you guys have been at the chanting for a while,” Bill said, closing the door and flipping on the light. The room held two bare mattresses and a dresser. A shame none of the clothing hanging out of the open drawers was currently being used.
“Yeah, man. Two days of harmony and peace, of trying to find our true inner selves, of connecting with each other on the spiritual plane. It’s been far-out, man. Enlightening, even.”
“I bet,” Bill muttered. “Way far out.”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Po-lice?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the murder upstairs.”
Liberty took a long drag from his marijuana joint, held it for a good thirty seconds, then tilted his chin back and slowly exhaled. “Do you want some?” he asked as he tried to hand me the cigarette.
“No, thank you,” I said, unsure of what bothered me more: his nudity or the heavy fog settling in my head. Was I getting high for the first time in my life?
“You know, I could arrest you for that,” Bill said, pointing at the joint.
“It wouldn’t matter.” He tapped his forefinger to his temple. “No matter where my body is, no matter what you do to me, I’m free up here. Man, no bars can cage me.”
Would he feel that way while sober?
“What can you tell us about the murder upstairs?” Bill asked again.
“I don’t know anything but love and peace, man. Nothing about the murder of the baby killer.”
“That doesn’t seem like a very lovable and peaceful thing to call someone,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. An image of Charles asleep on the couch with Ringo popped into my mind, and I bit my lip in anger. Charles had suffered greatly for his part in the war and hadn’t needed to be reminded of it at every turn, which was exactly what In-the-Buff Bob continually did.
Liberty narrowed his gaze on me as he took another long drag. “Do I know you?”
“I lived next door to Charles,” I replied. “He was my neighbor.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I’ve seen you around. You and that other fox hang out together.” I assumed he meant Donna because almost everyone referred to her in that term, and they weren’t wrong.
“For the final time, what can you tell us about Charles’ death?” Bill asked, his voice agitated.
“Nothing. I know that guy went over to a land that doesn’t belong to him to kill women and children for a war we shouldn’t be in. I reminded him of it often to try to make him repent, but he never did. Dude used to freak out pretty hard.”
“I’d be upset if someone continually called me such horrible names as well,” I spat, realizing just how furious Liberty’s actions towards Charles made me.
“Do you have a job, Mr. Briston?” Bill asked.
“I go by Liberty, remember? I’m not working for The Man. I’m free.”
“If you don’t work and sit around all day doing drugs, then how do you pay your rent?” I asked, fisting my hands at my sides. I’d completely forgotten about his nudity and now wanted to knock his teeth in. Was it my fury or the marijuana smoke that had made me so bold?
Liberty smoked and eyed me through the cloud.
“It’s an excellent question,” Bill said as he walked over to the window and opened it. I prayed for a gust of wind to air out the room. “How do you pay your rent, Liberty?”
“My parents believe in my quest for eternal harmony and peace.”
“So your parents pay your way?” I asked, hoping I had deciphered that correctly.
“No. They believe in my quest.”
“They pay his rent,” Bill said, returning to my side. “I’ve seen it before. Kid comes from a wealthy family, becomes a hippy in search of love, peace and harmony, and the parents foot the bill for it all.”
My head spun so badly from the drugs and the spoiled brat in front of me, I needed to sit down. “Must be nice not having to work to keep the lights on or buy your stupid drugs.”
The man’s smile faded and his brow creased for just a second. The easygoing fella was gone and I caught a flash of anger and hatred directed at me. Or had I? He quickly regained his composure. Maybe the drugs were making me see things that weren’t there, or perhaps there was another side to In-the-Buff Bob—a dark killer.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked, his smile returning.
“Where were you that day?” Bill asked.
“Don’t recall.”
“I would suggest you try,” Bill said. “Try really hard through that haze of smoke you have bathing your brain, Mr. Briston, or I may have to take you down to the station to sober up and remember.”
Did he have the authority? I had absolutely no idea.
Just as Liberty brought the joint up to his lips again, Bill grabbed it and stubbed it out on the carpet. “Talk, you worthless stoner.”
Liberty ground his jaw and stared at the burn mark. He probably wouldn’t get his deposit back, but if his parents were financing, what did it matter? “Fine. I was downstairs in the streets fighting for my cause, for the good of all mankind.”
The anti-war protest I’d been caught up in. Did he hear the contradiction of his words?
“Fighting for peace and love,” Bill muttered with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Okay, Liberty.”
“In fact, I was arrested.”
Bill stared at him a moment, then pulled out his paper pad and pen. In-the-Buff Bob had finally piqued his interest. “At what time?”
“In the afternoon, man.”
“Do you know what time?”
“Man,
