I wasn't handcuffed, which I thought was a good sign. If they had thought I was dangerous or guilty, they would have handcuffed me. I caught sight of my reflection in the two-way mirror and dismissed that idea. The unnatural twist of my left arm belied my unnatural, unusual frailty. My misshapen left pupil, the scarred twist on that side of my mouth and the crooked slouch of my shoulder all evidenced the weakness of my body. Handcuffs would have been overkill. My body was handicapped enough without them.
I supposed that worked in my favor, though. I could still see her there, lying on the tile floor of her kitchenette, head cracked, blood a stark sheen upon the white marble. If it hadn't been for the ransacked nature of her apartment, I would have assumed she had been killed fighting off a sexual assault. Doctor Castle was a pretty woman, amongst her many other positive qualities, and the state of half-dress she had died in was disgraceful. It made me feel sick to think someone had done that to her. It almost comforted me to remember the missing drive from her computer. It stood as proof that there was another reason she had been killed. Maybe, hopefully, she had been left with some dignity.
The door to the interview room swung open and a man walked in. He was tall, boarding-school handsome, well-dressed. A silver badge glinted on his hip. I recognized him from the crime scene, and while I hadn't spoken to him, I knew who he was. His name was Jordans, and he was a detective chief inspector in the Ambress Stone Wall Security Department. He held a file in one hand and smiled pitifully at me as he entered.
"Good morning, Mr. Malal," he said.
I cleared my throat. It felt very dry. I'd cried a lot over the past couple of hours. Maybe I had dehydrated myself. "G-good morning."
The detective walked over to the table and sat down across from me. He set the file on the table but didn't open it. He looked at me and the pitiful smile dropped from his face. He looked concerned. "Can I get you anything? Water? Food? You've been here awhile, you've had a long morning, you must be hungry."
My eyes fell to the table. My hands twisted together, so hard my knuckles went white. I was stressed. "No," I said. I glanced up. "I didn't kill her..."
Jordans nodded. "I know that," he said. He waved a hand at my arm. "Not to be insensitive, but I don't see you swinging a heavy object with enough force to...well, with enough force."
I swallowed. "No," I replied.
"We're just crossing t's and dotting i's here," he said. "We know someone is out there who killed Emily Castle. We need to ask you a few questions to help find them. Can you help us?"
"S-sure," I said. I was choking up. The image of Dr. Castle flashed into my head again. I don't know why, but I felt guilty. Not about her death, I don't think, but about seeing her like that. There was something strangely intimate about being the person to find a body, like I had seen someone in an incredibly private, singular moment. Like I had broken some soft, quiet peace. Maybe there was something else to it too. Aside from porn, I had never seen a woman in any real state of undress before. Maybe I was guilty to have seen Dr. Castle , her shirt torn open, staring blindly at the ceiling of her apartment. Whatever it was, I was guilty.
Jordans flipped open his file. "Hasan...can I call you Hasan?" I nodded in response. "Hasan, you came to Dr. Castle's apartment at 4:30 this morning to gather the drive and go to work. Do you usually make trips to Dr. Castle's apartment so early in the morning?"
I shook my head. "No. It was a one time thing. She didn't usually take anything out of the lab. I needed to pick up the drive this one time and..."
My voice cracked. Jordans nodded sadly. "So she didn't usually bring her work home?"
"Aside from papers and theories and her brain, no," I answered. "It was too risky."
"But she did this time?"
I nodded.
"Can you answer aloud, please?" Jordans jerked a thumb at the mirror. "We're recording. I need audio for evidence."
"Yes. She took it home this one time."
"Why?"
"We were on the verge of a breakthrough," I answered. "Sorry. She was on the verge of a breakthrough. I don't know. Normally she would have just stayed at the lab..."
I trailed off. Jordans flipped through his notes. "Do you know anybody at all who would have wished Dr. Castle harm?"
"No," I shook my head.
"Do you know if she was seeing anybody?" Castle asked.
"How do you mean?"
"Romantically," Jordans cleared his throat. "Given her state of dress, was there any chance there was someone else in the apartment that you know of?"
I let my gaze drop to the table and was silent for a few long seconds. "No," I finally said. "Not that I know of."
Jordans was quiet. He made a few notes in his file and then stood. "You're free to go, Mr. Malal. Just stay in town. We may have more questions for you. Do you need a lift somewhere? I can get a uniform..."
"No," I interrupted, harsher than I meant to. "No. I-I can make it home. Thank you."
He moved to the door and held it open for me. "We'll come calling when we need you," he said, and I nodded and slipped out.
He closed the door behind me.
JOHN JORDANS
I sat down again once the kid had left. I truly didn't think he had killed the doctor. He didn't seem the type. Also, with his fucked up arm, he wouldn't have been able to swing anything heavier than a tennis racket, and not with enough impact to break a head open like an egg. I tapped my pen against my slim file and sniffed. Something was up, and I couldn't quite tell what.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I snatched it out. "Jordans," I answered.
"It's Penny," came a reply. "We've got some preliminary work done down here in the morgue."
"And?" I asked.
"And I have a guess on murder weapon."
I stood and walked over to the two-way mirror. I mimed swinging an object and gave a thumbs up. A moment later, Tina Khan, appeared at the door. I held up a hand. "What is it?"
"I think it may have been a police baton," Penny replied.
"Like an extendable one or..."
"Like an old-timey truncheon," she replied. "I can't be sure, obviously. Could just be a club or something..."
"No, it's something to go on," I replied. "Thanks."
I hung up and looked at Tina. "We need to go back to the crime scene. Penny thinks it was a police baton..."
"A baton?"
I shrugged. "You up for dumpster diving?"
"Think the perp was dumb enough to toss it?"
"No," I replied, and walked past her.