Russian Red
Jessica Walker opened the door to the cabin and stepped inside the creaky wooden building. The cabin, being situated in the middle of the woods, was frequented rarely. In fact, since Jessica was the only one who came nowadays, it would be caked with dust. But not today. There were fewer dust than usual, some places remarkably clean. All the clues pointed towards someone being there recently.
Jessica did not spare a second glance at this. She was here to relax, not be paranoid and she already had an inkling to the culprit, so no worries there. She had wished for this very moment for so long. She had wanted this. A chance to relax, to not worry about anything but when she was finally here, she could think of nothing to do. Sighing, she went over to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water, ignoring her paranoia.
She froze at the doorway as a frightening sight greeted her. She punched the numbers in her cellphone, her hands shaking but she was in control, very much so. "There is a dead body in my cabin." She informed the officer who had picked up the phone.
"Yes." She replied affirmatively, to the question she was asked. "It's Michael Carlow, the singer of Devil's Angels."
"Are you all right, Dr. Walker?" Deputy Joe Hudson of the Sheriff's Department asked, handing the psychiatrist a cup of coffee. He sat down on the opposite couch, along with his partner, Erin Smith.
Jessica Walker took the cup and nodded with a small smile. "I am fine. But still it's not every day you find your arch rival dead on n your own house." She added bitterly, but did not take drink the coffee.
"Arch rival?" Erin Smith asked with a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Yes. Our parents were business partners so we were childhood friends but became rivals in our later years.” She clarified.
"It must have been hard, seeing him dead.” Joe said, trying to empathize with her.
“No it wasn’t. I am a criminologist, deputies, I can handle crime scenes well. Please don’t beat about the bush. Let’s just get this over with.” She snapped, clearly annoyed.
“Very Well.” Erin agreed. "Dr. Walker, where were you between 7 and 9 pm on Thursday, 30th April?" She got right into the point.
"At home."
"Can someone confirm that?"
"Yes. You can ask my rude houseguest, Jeanette Hudson. Your sister, I presume. Both of you have the same last name and that pointed nose." She was looking directly at Joe now.
Joe nodded, albeit reluctantly and excused himself, presumably to check her alibi. Erin on the other hand, was always staring at Jessica Walker, observing the little quirks she had, some unconscious habits, and the fact that she hadn’t touched the cup of coffee.
"Dr. Walker, do you blame Mr. Carlow for the death of your parents?" Everyone knew about the fire at Walker estate, one year ago, just as everyone knew that Michael Carlow had been there on that very day.
Jessica Walker straightened her posture. She replied with a question. "Deputy Smith, do you know what Michael was doing in my cabin, with her?"
"Her?"
"The unmistakable smell of Chanel No. 5. I know only one person who wears it." She clarified and continued. "The cabin belonged to my late fiancé, Conner Jones. He died one year ago in the same fire that took my parents. That cabin was a remainder of Conner. The cabin, it was a place of importance for both of us. They even tainted that." She closed her eyes, all the while gripping the ring that was in a chain around her neck really hard. Her engagement ring, Erin supposed it was.
Erin felt uneasy seeing the strong criminal therapist she knew look so weak. Her attempt at changing the topic was frankly a pathetic one. "You never answered my question, Dr. Walker."
"No, I don't blame him for the death of my parents. But whoever killed him did the world a favor." She smiled a small smile and waited for Joe, who had just arrived to sit down. “The poison was in the lipstick, I presume?” She asked.
Joe didn’t even bat and eye at that. He knew she was a brilliant criminologist. “Yes, traces of Hemlock have been found in the lipstick smudged around his face. We've identified the lipstick too, it's Russian Red by MAC." He read out from his notebook.
"Hemlock, huh? Non-toxic to touch but dangerous when inhaled. Even a small quantity can be fatal. A good choice of poison." She mused loudly. The coffee was still in her hands, untouched.
"Dr. Walker, who was the girl you were talking about earlier?" Erin asked. Her eyes were always on Jessica Walker, looking, observing.
"Samantha Anderson.” Her tone was venomous. “She’s the manager of their little rock group, Devil’s Angles, and Michael’s girlfriend.” Jessica Walker took a big gulp and put the cup down on the coffee table.
Erin smiled. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Walker." She said and bade the psychiatrist goodbye.
"She's not our killer." Erin concluded after Jessica Walker had left.
"How can you be so sure?" Her partner asked. "Her alibi is indeed solid but she could have had an accomplice."
"She's not used to wearing lipstick. She licks her lips at certain intervals, unconsciously. It is not uncommon for people not used to wearing lipstick to do that. Hence, it is impossible for her to do it. This girlfriend though..." She trailed off after clarifying. "However, we can still check for DNA." Erin concluded pointing at the coffee mug.
Jessica Walker looked at the Prada bag in the washroom and smiled. Pulling a lipstick out of her shoe with a latex-covered hand, she easily switched it with the one inside the bag. The toilet flushed, snapping Jessica out of her reverie. She leisurely made her way towards the stalls.
"Orange suits you." She whispered as she passed by. The girl jerked her head towards Jessica but it was too late. Jessica was already inside, hidden from view, smiling brightly. Samantha Anderson looked pathetic. It was perfect.
When she was sure the other girl had left, she got out. She dumped the tube of Russian Red obtained from Samantha's bag into the trash, with the latex gloves following soon after. A pity, she thought, Russian Red was such a pretty color. Jessica Walker exited the Sheriff’s Department with a smile on her lips and her engagement ring sitting prettily on her finger.
When she was a safer distance away from the station, she dialed a number she knew so well. The person picked up on the first ring. "Let's get married. I hear Paris is good this time of the year." She said to the phone.
Conner Jones chuckled from the other end. "Of course, Jess, anything for you." He replied fondly.
"Okay then. Hey, can you tell Jeanette to leave the key under the doormat when she leaves. The job's done, there's no reason for her to stay anymore." She said and hung up. She never blamed Michael Carlow for her parents' death. She blamed both of them for their murder.
Yup, that's it. If you liked this, do tell me 'bout it, if you didn't please do. Do leave a comment below. :)
ns52.14.187.136da2
然後按「加至主畫面」