I killed him but I am innocent

The other police officers clapped their hands and applauded him. He just stepped into the office when they all got up and cheered. All he could was stare on floor and grin. Not like he was not expecting this, in fact, it happened more often than not but this time, he just didn’t see it coming, or maybe there was something about this case he was not sure about. He put one hand behind his back and with the other he waved around in modesty like he always did. When he made his way to his desk, he grinned, in his mind. For over fifteen years of being a detective, he had uncovered all his cases. When Detective Dickson had first called and asked him to take the murder case, he grumbled. ‘Give it Morty’, he said, ‘he should be able to handle that’. Surprised, Detective Dickson asked why. He told him he had personal issues to attend to. Margaret his wife had filed for a divorce when she noticed Mark was more interested in his job than her. The news didn’t come to him as a blow, but he was feeling it now, her absence. He lay on the couch and his mind lingered through all the memories she left behind. They had first met in Avesprings College where he was at that time, investigating the murder of a student. She was introduced to him by a mutual friend. They then grew from best friends to couples in a short time. He loved her but he loved his job too and he wasn’t going apologize for serving justice. So when he called Detective Dickson’s office that morning days later and told him that he wanted to take the case, he was surprised. ‘I thought you wanted me to give it to Morty’ Detective Dickson had asked. ‘Just send it to me Dick’, he said.

That was weeks ago. When he trapped the suspect, she didn’t resist arrest. He stared into her blue-brown eyes and immediately, he could tell she was murderer. The suspect, Linda had murdered her husband in cold blood, with a baton, she beat him to death. For a man like Mark, he was desperately certain he was an edge close to cracking who the murderer was before taking the case. I mean doing what he did for all those years it was for him like he had a diagram of everything in his head. And this crime was just another one of his craving. And yes it was. He had followed everything his mind told him, his instincts. And that’s the truth, a good detective never doubts his instincts. Even though she looked to be a strong suspect from early on, she had had a strong alibi, she was out of town in Winconsin during the time of the murder. But when all fingers pointed back at her, she couldn’t deny being involved. It was suspected that she must have felt her husband was having an affair with another woman, her husband’s secretary. Linda never denied the crime, never did she agree to doing it. 

He sat on his desk and fiddled on the wedding ring he wore. He still wore it. Margaret had went ahead with the divorce. She left for Oldsprings the next day. But before she did, she visited him in the office and asked how the case was going. He told her everything. Those final moments with her reminded him of the night he asked her to be his wife. That night the moon was red and its rays shone on her face as she sat across him in Burger’s restaurant. He was really going to miss her. Maybe if he had not taking the case, he thought, they would have still been together. He exhaled and thought she has always been the stubborn type and there was nothing he would have done to change her mind. The investigation was more important. I have helped put a woman in jail and saved a young woman from going to jail for a crime she didn’t commit, Mr. McKinneley’s secretary.

When Dick sent the case files to him the morning he called to take the case. At that time, Mr. McKinneley’s secretary was already in custody for questioning. She was the last person to have been seen with the victim and her fingerprints smeared all over his tuxedo. So he went to see her. When he arrived there the next day, he asked, ‘Are you Sandra, Mr. McKinneley’s secretary?’ Yes I am, she replied but I did not kill him, she added. Her thighs were tightly held together and she drummed on her laps and he could tell from her eyes that she was innocent. Who did? Mark asked. I don’t know she answered. ‘Where did you first meet Mr. McKinneley?’ I asked after a brief pause. ‘In Avesprings College, he was a year ahead of me” she replied. He asked her other questions about her relationship with the victim. Her replies convinced him truly that she is innocent. After he left her, he took a cab to Mr. McKinneley’s residence. A few police men were there that morning when he got there. Mr. Dickson was amongst them. He exchanged greetings with the other officers and asked Dickson what he was doing there. He replied. A woman had called and claimed to have seen a woman leaving the building at the time the murder happened. The woman had clearly stood her grounds that the woman she saw leaving Mr. McKinneley’s apartment was not Mr. McKinneley’s secretary. This opened a new window to the case. The case file he received earlier, said there was only one person in the building with Mr. McKinneley’s as at the time the crime happened and only two finger prints were found, those of the victim and that of the suspect which was yet to be revealed by forensics. So who was this second woman?

‘Where was Mr. McKinneley’s wife at the time of the murder’ Mark asked Detective Dickson. He replied. ‘She killed her husband’ Mark had said instantly. ‘Why would you think that?’ Detective Dickson asked. ‘I don’t know now’, he replied ‘but I will prove that to you’. Mark’s eyes couldn’t find sleep that night. He was awake, connecting dots, making phone calls and finding possible links to prove Sandra’s innocence and Mrs. McKinneley’s involvement in her husband’s death. He strolled around his living room and sipped at intervals from the ash-colored mug he held. He then took a pen, wrote down something and went to bed. He smirked as he closed his eyes. Early the next morning, he met Detective Dickson and told him everything he has learnt about his new findings. Dickson was astonished, and when Mrs. McKinneley was brought in for questioning and all the allegations were thrown at her, she did not refute them. From Mark’s conclusions, it was found that Mrs. McKinneley was never out of town at the time of the murder. In fact, she had lodged in a nearby hotel during the period she had claimed to be out of town to spy on her husband. That night of Mr. Mckinneley murder, he had made reservations for two at Burger’s restaurant and Sandra had come to see him holding a shopping bag (which contained Mr. Mckinneley’s tuxedo). So as soon as Sandra left, Linda had walked right into the house and beat her husband to death with a baseball bat. 

That was weeks ago. Today, he sits on his desk, absorbing all the cheers and congratulations from his fellow colleagues. He puts both palms behind his head and rests his back on his office chair. Then, the telephone rings. He picks. ‘Are you Detective Burrow? A voice asked. Yes I am, Mark replied. ‘I know who killed Mr. McKinneley’ the voice said. ‘I know too’ Mark replied. ‘No no’ the voice said, ‘not his wife’. ‘Who then’ he asked enthralled. ‘Your wife’, the voice said, ‘and I can show you’.