Chapter 3: Murder

...Riley learns the death was intentional...


It was barely light. Riley rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned, watching Susan Fernandez inspect the backpack.

Wearing latex gloves, she lifted it by the straps with her fingers, the left index pointing at the right and vice versa, as if ratting each other out. She unzipped each pocket and probed inside.

A wrinkle formed between the brows of her seamless face, dark eyes inquisitive and lively. Riley thought she looked more attractive in person than on TV.

She zipped the pockets and set it on the coffee table.

“What do you think?” Mara asked.

"Nothing there now, of course. But it held something in the shot.”

Riley looked puzzled.

“The bag had weight to it, so something was taken after he died.”

“It was empty when I found it.”

“I know,” said Mara, reaching out a comforting hand.

“I don’t see what’s the fuss. I’ll take it to the police and that will be that.”

“Riley, it’s a murder case now.”

“What?”

“He was stabbed in the neck. We found out last night.”

He paused to take in the news. “But I’m innocent.”

Susan’s lips slackened as if to mock a bad joke.

“Join the party. The police say they’re innocent of beating him, but film shows them whacking away at the crowd. Nothing shows them not beating him.”

“But you said he was stabbed.” He looked at Mara.

“The public doesn’t know that yet,” Susan interjected. “They’ll announce at a morning conference."

“When they do--“

“It won’t make a difference. Not at first. Those who always blame the police will call for the Chief’s head.”

“What’s that have to do with me?” Riley pressed.

Susan composed herself. Her words were smooth and measured. “You are likely the only lead related to motive. They will hold on to you as long as they can until the public looks somewhere else.”

Riley sunk in his chair.

“That’s why Susan wants to film you at the Hall of Justice. It’s a big story.”

His face flushed. He stammered, “I don’t want publicity!”

His words hung in the air. Susan’s arms were crossed and her lips pressed together. Mara leaned forward and mouthed, “I’m sorry”.

***

“The coroner’s report indicates the deceased died of stab wounds to the neck.”

A flurry of clicks and flashes filled the room, cameras capturing beefy, red-faced Inspector Henderson. He looked at his notes.

“The deceased’s name is Robert Martin, a transient residing in San Francisco. We ask that anyone with information about Mr. Martin or this incident call the police…”

***

Riley watched the news conference from home and wrote down the number to call. Then he took the bus to the Hall of Justice.

He called on his cell from across the street, then approached the imposing granite building, a paper bag in hand. A crowd of protesters had already formed. They chanted, “Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

Inside, he stood waiting beyond the metal detector as others lined up to pass through to traffic and criminal courts.

From somewhere, Rex was filming. He didn’t like it, but Susan had put in him the fear of a bottomless bureaucracy. At least there’d be proof he’d entered the building of his own free will.

When a sergeant appeared, scanning the lobby, he signaled him and handed over the bag. He motioned him to the head of the line. Riley passed through and followed him down the hallway, sensing another escort behind. Men and women with thick belts and badges gave them wide berth, turning heads, eyes blinking furiously.

The sergeant opened a door to a room with a gray metal table and two chairs. He left him there to wait.


The persons and events in this story are fictitious and do not represent any living person or real event.

The next chapter will be posted March 7.