An Interrogation

By Swati Shenoy

In Baytorn Lore, a town nearby lay the Police Department in the chilling quietness,

In the dimly lit interrogation room Det. Bens sat comfortably on the chair with ease, his feet laid on the table and arms relaxed on the side. He looked at the party on the other end, someone Mr. Barnes appeared to be completely contrary to that. He was slouching, nervous and sweat trickling down the forehead. There was an uneasy silence.

“So, Barnes….” Ben finally started breaking the stillness “...are you going to confess already. And please don’t tell me you are innocent. We have all the proofs against you. We found your finger prints on the safe and the room’s door knob. Your foot prints match with the one we found on the door step.”

“That is so not true. You have nothing against me. All your proofs and claims are phony” Barnes said without meeting the Detective’s gaze.

Ben smiled and with a swift, moved his feet from the table, almost giving a jolt to the so called “Guilty” Party”. Placing his hands on the table, he moved closer “Is this what you want to go with Barnes?” Barnes didn’t reply.

“Fine then. let’s do it the long way then.”

With a sigh, he stood up and picked up the file from the table. “This” he said while opening it “is an official police report. Let me read it for you. You'd been keeping an eye on the house for some time. Mrs. Micks was an elderly, wealthy widow without children, and you wished to relieve her of the burden of transmitting her inheritance. Just like a caretaker, you knew her daily schedule, her wake-up time, and, most importantly, her bedtime. You knew when it was the right time to strike. And on that fateful night, you approached Mrs. Micks' room through the rear door, opened it with the skeleton keys, passed past the kitchen, along the hall, up the stairs, and entered the room. You checked her room. She was fast asleep and so you could carry out your task. You entered the so called “Treasure door”, cracked the safe and were about to put the cash in your bag when the light in the room was turned on and noticed Mrs. Micks standing at the door with a revolver in her hand. You panicked, but you also knew that the woman wouldn't shoot. She was a softy. So, you took advantage of the situation and bang!! You shot her! She laid there cold, lifeless and bleeding. You hurriedly stuffed all of the cash into the bag and bolted back the way you came in.” He slammed the file on the table and looked at Barnes.

“No. this isn’t true. You are making up.” Barnes said defensively.

“What part of this am I making up? Didn't you know about the money?”

“No.”

“Didn't you enter by the back door?”

“I did not come through the back door”

“Didn't you check in her room first to be sure?”

“No. I d... iidn’t check her room” Barnes struggled.

“Did you not shoot her?”

“No. I didn’t shoot her in the chest”. Barnes gulped.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Ben came closer to Barnes, “I never mentioned the chest.” He returned to his chair and looked at Barnes.

Barnes seemed as if he was replaying the scene in his head. At last he found his voice. “The…the… report. You mentioned that she was shot in the chest while reading from it.”

“Which one… This?” Ben opened the file that was lying on the table “This Mr. Barnes is blank. There is no report in here.” Barnes couldn’t believe his eyes.

“In fact, the official report is still being typed and the only people who know about the shot except me were the officers on the crime scene and of course…” he pointed his hand towards Barnes “The Killer himself.” Barnes sat there motionless with his head buried in hands. He was still trying to figure what had happened.

“And now it seems that we can have final report at the Captain’s table. Smith...” Bens called out the officer standing near the door as he got up. “Please can you ensure that Mr. Barnes gets the most comfortable cell?”

He paused while opening the door and said teasingly “And Barnes…. Thank you for your co-operation. I was not possible without you. See you soon in the court.” Barnes did not look up nor took the pain to reply.

By Swati Shenoy