Guilty

TW: murder, homophobia

It is late night, Charles leaves the gay bar with a sex toy, both are woozy from constant alcohol drinking; however, in Charles car between hanky-panky and kisses, he manages to drive to a motel on the outskirts of the city under the roar of airplanes arriving and departing Tampa airport. At daybreak, Charles steps out of the room, into his car, drives away.

           It is afternoon and the room has been closed off to the onlookers by police tape. Two detectives stand in the room’s doorway observing crime scene investigators collect evidence within the room. Still on the bed is the sex toy’s bloody body.

           “I’m guessing that the coroner would find more than fifty stab wounds,” Jones says.

           “Yeah, but, most likely one or two would be the fatal ones,” Clark says.

           “And that suggests a lover’s spat.”

           “Yes, it does.”

           Female detective Lopez walks up to the doorway. “I have a name, address,” she says.

           “So, do us,” Clark says. He displays a wallet.

“The manager is pulling up the security tapes; a uniform is with him,” Lopez says.

Charles wakes later in the day with a headache that he remedies with two aspirins afterwards he gets ready to meet the youngest of his twin daughters at a restaurant; they greet each other with smooches then sit at an outdoor table in the backyard.

           “How is Marcia?” Charles asks.

           “Mom is fine,” June says.

           “That’s great.”

           “And July?”

           “The same.”

           “That’s good.”

           “Yes it is.”

           The waiter arrives.

At the detectives’ office.

           “It looks like Charles Livingston was the last person to see Gregory Smalls alive,” Jones says.

           “The clear fingerprints found by crime scene must be theirs,” Clarks says.

           “When do we pick up Charles Livingston?” Lopez asks.

           “No better time than now,” Jones says.

           The news media had broadcasted the killing, adding that updates will soon follow.

           In an interview room Charles sits uncomfortable, feeling trapped, sitting on a chair with his back against a corner of the room with Jones and Lopez sitting, facing him across the desk.

           “He was alive when I left him. I couldn’t wake so I just left him there,” Charles says.

           “There was no argument over money?” Lopez asks.

           “No money was involved,” Charles says.

           “It was mutual?” Jones asks.

           “Yes, of course,” Charles says.

           “Where did you meet Gregory?” Lopez asks.

           “The bar,” Charles says.

           “What bar?” Jones asks.

           Charles tells them then says, “I did not kill him.”

           “You are under arrest, charged with murder,” Lopez says.

           “I want to call my lawyer,” Charles says.

In the assistant district attorney Conners office.

           “Does he has a history?” Conners asks.

           “Nothing criminal but five years ago he divorced his wife; it seems that it was an agreeable separation,” Jones says.

           “What about the weapon?”

 “It wasn’t found at the scene.”

           “Did you search?”

           “Just the room and vicinity.”

           “Well, spread it out, makes it a good search, something the jury will understand and take it into consideration.”

           “Yes sir, will do.” 

In a conference room used by a lawyer to talk to their client, he waits for Charles. Officer escorts Charles through the door then stand against the wall as he watch.

           “You are in a mess here Charles.”

           “I didn’t do it.”

           “The police believed that they have enough to charge you.”

           “What can you do?”

           “Charles, I’m not a criminal defense attorney but I’m sure that I can get a good one for you. She’s with the firm’s criminal defense section.”

“I think that I’m going to need someone good to get me out of this mess.”

“She was once a public defender; that is from where the firm hired her.”

“Okay.”

“Do Marcia and your girls know about this?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, if there is bail, you’re going to need all the help that you can get.”

“Oh, my goodness, for a few hours of sex, I get this.”

“Did you do it Charles?”

“Hell no, damnit.” He tears up.

“I’m sorry Charles but I had to ask.”

“Okay, I understand.”

“Want me to contact Marcia?”

“Yes please.”

In Conner’s office with the district attorney. The security tape shows Charles and Gregory entering the room then only Charles leaving the room then the housekeeper going into the room then right-way running out of the room.

           “The weapon?”

           “The coroner said that it was maybe a folding knife with a two-inch blade,” Conners says.

           “Was it found?”

           “Not in the motel room or surroundings or on him or in his house or anywhere,” Conners says.

           “How are you going to handle it?”

           “From a clinical psychologist point of view, Charles suffered a moment of extreme depression blaming his homosexuality on the loss of his family and took it out on Gregory.”

           “Was his homosexuality the cause of his divorce?”

           “Sure, seems to be.”

In Marcia living room.

           “I’ve told and told Charles that his bar hopping for sex would come to this or worse,” Marcia says.

           “Marcia, he’s being charged with murder,” Lawyer says.

           “Oh, my goodness, that for self-defense what happened to manslaughter.”

           “No, intentional killing someone.”

           “Oh, damn was that what was on the news?”

           “Yes.”

           “They said someone was being investigated but not who.”

           “It’s Charles and from what I understand the police believe the killing was by someone in a rage.”

           “I told him, I told him.”

           June and July walks into the house.

           “Who told who what?” July asks.

           Marica explains.

           “Dad does stupid things but nothing like that,” June says.

           “I think your dad was attacked and defended himself,” Marcia says.

           “That sound like something that dad would do,” July says.

           “It does,” June says.

At the detective office, for the second time Lopez studies the security tape. Clark steps in, sits down. “What are you doing?” He asks.

           “Check this out.” She replays the tape.

           “So?”

           “Pay attention to the time mark.” She replays the tape.

           “Oh shit, maybe there was some kind of blackout.”

           “For exactly five minutes and the victim, the coroner said, was killed by a folding knife that was never found.”

           “Jones know about this.”

           “Not yet.”

The detectives finds the folding knife in the night clerk’s trousers’ right pocket. “That damn fag flirted with me and that pissed me off,” he says. He is taken to the detective’s office. Conners tells Charles that there are no charges against him; “you can go home.”