A Dialogue With The Devil

"Isn't it nice? Swapping tales this way? Spilling our hearts under such... comfortable circumstances?"

"You're a frickin' liar."

"Am I? I've promised your release, and I'll make good on that promise. All you have to do is tell me your story?"

"Look, you dope, I've got a baby. I've got a husband who will be getting home from work anytime now and when he walks into our house, and finds our kid alone, our three month old kid, he's gonna wonder where I am, and then, when he can't find me, he's gonna call the cops, who are gonna save me and kill you. Just let me go! Please!"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. Spare me the threats. I'm not a cruel man. Really. All you've got to do is tell me about Jack, and you'll be back in time to cook your dinner. Heck, hurry up, and you'll be back in time to enjoy a glass of that red wine you keep in the back of your pantry."

"How... how did you know about that?"

"I know a lot of things about you, Sharon. Things I'm sure you wouldn't want your spineless jellyfish of a husband to know about. Things like what happened to Jack."

"Look, I swear I don't know how he died. I don't know why you're asking me. We only knew each other for a little while."

"You were dating."

"Okay, fine. It's really weird that you would know that, but fine, yes. We were dating. But he died after we broke up. I swear I don't know anything. That was over fifteen years ago."

"He was murdered, and I know that you know who did it. So, tell me, and you'll live. Don't, and that rope hanging from the ceiling will be squeezing the life from your lungs."

"Please, I swear I don't know anything. I swear!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now you're the one who lies. Lies, lies, lies. I'm sure your sweet little baby girl wouldn't want a mommy who lies."

"You are a phsycopath. You're weird, and you're creepy, and I know that the cops won't deal nicely with a man like you."

"The cops aren't going to find me, and your threats only betray your fear. You're scared, Sharon, and scared people to desperate things. Things that will end their fear. Getting back to your baby would end your fear, but I wouldn't advise doing anything stupid, 'cause I like you, Sharon. I don't want your kid to grow up without her momma."

"Okay."

"Okay, what? Okay, you'll tell me. Or, okay, you got my message?"

"Okay, I'll tell you."

"No lies now, Sharon. I'm the one with the gun. I'm the one holding your life in my fingers, and if you lie, I'll find out, and then I'll come back for you. Or maybe your kid. I've always wanted a little girl."

"My daughter stays out of this. My husband stays out of this. This is between you, me, and the dead, okay?"

"Hmmm...Okay. I'm not an unfair man. You tell me, and we can put all this behind us."

"I wasn't the one who murdered Jack. All I know is that we only dated for three weeks before we broke up, and he was killed two weeks after that."

"Come, come, Sharon. I know there's a brain in that pretty noggin. Oh, don't look so sad. Spare me the tears. You're gonna be fine as long as you tell me all that you know. Come now, Sharon. Don't be afraid."

"Fine. We didn't break up two weeks before he died. We had our last date the night he was killed. He was acting really weird. He kept saying something about being followed, and about all of these texts he'd been recieving asking for money and stuff. He kept looking around the restaurant, like he was watching for somebody. He insisted that we sit in a booth. He said it provided more privacy."

"Do you know what Jack did for a living?"

"Well... No. Every time I asked him, he would change the subject. But he was always getting these strange phone calls. He was kind of a closed off guy, anyway. He wasn't one to elaborate on his personal life. An introvert, I guess."

"He worked for the CIA."

"What? How would you know that?"

"As I said, I know alot about you. I know alot about Jack. Actually, I know alot of things about alot of people. A bit of a dabbler, you might say."

"A stalker, you mean. And a murderer."

"Oh, potato, patato. Dabbler, stalker. Same thing, really. But, oh, Sharon, how unkind. Accusing me of murder. Stereotyping me like that. I'm really a normal kind of a guy. Now, continue on. Oh, and by that way, you have ten minutes, and then the only children you'll be seeing are the dead in heaven. If you make it up there anyway."

"Please, please. I'll keep going."

"Then do so."

"Okay. The night that Jack died, after we went to dinner, he insisted on going back to my house. He said it was safer, though he wouldn't tell me why. Before he left he told me to be on high alert, not to answer my door or phone. He was acting crazy and I got mad that he wouldn't answer my questions. I yelled at him and he left and... that... that was the last time I saw him. Dead or alive."

"They never found the body, only the gun and the blood and other such unsavory evidence in Jack's apartment. You did know that, Sharon, I'm sure."

"No... I didn't. I was told that they cremated the body and, since his family didn't like me anyway, they didn't tell me about the... circumstances of his death."

"Didn't like you?"

"Yeah. I don't know. They just kind of ignored me. Apprently I wasn't good enough for Jack, or something like that."

"But you dated him anyway?"

"Yeah. We... liked each other, I guess."

"But you didn't love each other?"

"Why do you want to know? What does that have to do with his death?"

"Because I know for a fact that he did not love you. And his family had reason to dislike you. You see, Jack wasn't one to keep secrets. He told his family all about his work. About his... investigations."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Sharon. You were Jack's investigation, and you knew that. You killed Jack didn't you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do. And let me indulge you on a little secret. Jack was my brother. Oh, don't look so surprised! You see, Jack died becuase he was investigating the boss of a crime ring dealing drugs to the lowlifes of New York City, and that boss found out about his investigation. That boss was you."

"Shut up, you liar."

"No, you're the liar. You see Sharon, if you were to unzip my jacket and reach into my right lapel pocket, you would find a badge. On that badge you would see a picture of me. Unmasked, of course. That badge identifies me as an agent for the FBI, and if I were to take off my mask, you would see the face of a man who looks exactly like a man you used to know. A man named Jack McDonald. Jack was my twin brother."

"Look, stupid, what you're saying is a bunch of bullcrap. Not worth another minute of my time. Now let me go."

"You forget that I'm the one with the gun, Sharon. Or, maybe I should say Ellen Short. It is Ellen, isn't it? But I'm afraid this isn't a Scooby Doo episode, where the bad guy has been unmasked and his plot foiled once again. I'm not Fred, Velma, or Daphne. You're not the Ghost of Captain Cutler, ready to reveal the whereabouts of the lost vest of Elvis. This is a very real threat. You are a very real threat. And by the way, this room that you are in is surrounded by fifteen of our best trained agents, ready to take you into custody."

"Look, you've got the wrong woman. I'm a wife and a mother who wants to get back to her husband and baby. Please!"

"No, Ellen. You are married only to crime and this drug dealing plan is your baby, and I'm afraid that both have been taken from you. Now, I'm going to open that door and you're gonna make your way to years and years of prison."

"Your going to regret this."

"Oh, I don't think so. I'm not the sniveling, murdering little crime boss that you are. And this is personal. You killed my brother. Get up, and let's go, I've got other places to be."