Hanging From The Banister

"Well Mrs. Hale, I think I'm going to need to talk to a colleague about this. I'll go get him." Detective Bushman stood up and walked out of the room without a second glance.

Mrs. Hale, a wealthy widow and mother to 3 adult kids, sat on the opposite end of the table and thought back to that time only a year ago. She thought about how hard it had been to get through everything that happened and now, after all this time, she was being forced to relive it all.

Detective Bushman walked back into the room and sat back down. A second later another man walked into the room. He was much older than the detective and much handsomer. His salt and pepper hair highlighted his grey eyes and his relaxed gaze. He fixated on Mrs. Hale, extending his hand. Mrs. Hale shot up from her seat and shook his hand violently.

"This is Mrs. Hale. Sh-" The Detective started.

"But you can call me 'Lizzy'."

The Detective continued, "Lizzy has something here that she needs to talk to us about, but I'm having a hard time figuring out what to do. I figured you," speaking to the man, "might have an idea about what to do. Seeing as you're from the big city and all."

Turning his attention to Lizzy, Detective Bushman said, "So, could you please recount the days leading up to your husband's death and the day after for the Chief's," gesturing to the man, "Sake. It would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course Detective. Well my husband had started acting strangely only about a week before his death. He was having hushed phone calls every day that would stop if I walked into the room. And then when he started going to the story but to only come back hours later with only a thing or two in hand, it started to worry me. But I didn't say anything until about two days before his death when he said he was going out in the morning but didn't come back home until the next day. I didn't know what to think so I sat him down that last day and said, 'What is going on? Where are you going? Who are you talking to? What is happening?' And well he started crying saying that he had been keeping his secret from me for years but only now was it becoming a problem. He told me that he had been blackmailed since we started dating and that the person told him that if he didn't do everything he said, the person would kill me then my husband. He told me the reason the person was blackmailing him."

"And what would that reason be?" The Chief asked.

"That is something I will take to my grave."

The Detective exhaled, "Alright. Please continue."

"My husband told me that the calls were to the bank and that every trip to the store was to the bank to try and get a loan. He said that the person was demanding more and more money and he simply didn't have anymore to give. I told him that we needed to go to the police right then but he said that we needed to get out of town and never come back. We agreed that the next morning we would go to the police and tell them what was happening then we would leave. We started packing and by 11 pm I had fallen asleep in our room."

"And what happened after you woke up Mrs. Hale?"

"Detective, please call me 'Lizzy'."

"Alright Lizzy, what happened after you woke up the next morning?"

"Well I woke up around 8 am and went downstairs to get my husband and go to the police but when I got downstairs I saw him, hanging from the banister. I called the police and they took his body away. They said it was a suicide."

"And you didn't find this the least bit alarming, your husband committing suicide the night after he told you about being blackmailed?" The Chief speaking.

"Well of course I found it strange but what else could I do? No one would believe me that he was killed or that he was being blackmailed. So I just planned his funeral. It was the next day."

"And what happened after the funeral?" Detective Bushman asked.

"I found a letter under my door saying that the person who had been blackmailing my husband had killed him and that if I didn't keep paying him, that I would end up like him too."

"And why didn't you go to the police then?" The Detective asked.

"Honestly I don't know. I just didn't."

"What happened next Mrs. Hale?" Detective Bushman now visibly irritated.

"I got a job and sold the house to be able to pay the person off."

"So then why are you here now Mrs. Hale?"

"Well, because of this." She said as she pushed a folded piece of paper toward the two men.

They opened it and began reading to themselves. It read, "Dear Mrs. Hale, it has now been a year since I killed your husband. Now you have been very good this last year paying me. But I want more. 10,000 more. Each month. And if you don't comply, you'll end up like your husband. Don't let the secret out."

Then men looked at each other and without a word they left the room. Only to come back a minute later. "Alright so we've decided what to do. You will go home tonight with an officer on watch by your house. The next day the officer will take you to a secure location where we will be protecting you. After we know you're safe, we will worry about what to do about this person."

Lizzy nodded. They led her out of the station and an officer took her home. He stood outside the door to her house all night never leaving his post or falling asleep. The next morning however, when Lizzy was supposed to come outside to be taken away, she never came outside. The officer walked into the house and found her, hanging from the banister. The funeral was the same day.

The next day, while Detective Bushman started the cast, trying to figure out who this person was and how they got into the house, a young woman walked into the station. Her hair was in a bun and her eyes looked like she hadn't stopped crying for days. She walked over to the Detective, looking scared and nervous, she handed him a folded piece of paper. The paper read as follows, "Uh oh. Mommy didn't do what I said. I don't have my money, and look how she ended up. You will take over for her from her on out. Or you end up like mommy and daddy dearest, hanging from the banister. You wouldn't want that, now would you?" The women looked at the Detective and said in a cracked and scared voice, "What does this mean?"