High School Hottie, Mandy Lane, Got Fat --Part 2

Reads: 212  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
This a prequel to "Mad Season (Working Title)". Other than the characters of Jackson, Ingalls and Edwards this is a stand alone story.

The Detectives are called to the scene where an attendant of a 25 Year Class reunion has died. Was it murder or just dumb luck. But as they proceed with the case the Detectives turn up interesting tidbits and the case ends in a way that wasn't expected.

Author's Note: The change in POV from first to third is intentional. I'm making this one a little more experimental in the way it comes across. Much in the way Zoran Drvenkar did with his novel "Sorry".

Submitted: October 05, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 05, 2014

A A A

A A A


II

 

Room 1104 was on what is considered the first floor by hotel standards. Passing lights from the mid-evening traffic slowly drifted below the window as they made their way along North State Street. For the location for a high school reunion, the alumni couldn’t ask for a better one as the Hilton Garden Inn was situated in the heart of one of the posher neighborhoods the City of Chicago had to offer. And while the room was small and not much different than a thousand other hotel rooms Jackson had been in he figured on a weekend night it still had to run close to three bills. That thought had him thinking that there may be more to this case than previously thought. Then again maybe not. Murder for inheritance was as old as man itself. Jackson made the metal note to look into the finances and insurance policies of Lipschitzs.

Robert Lipschitz sat at the edge of one of the twin beds the room had to offer, bent over slightly, his face rested in his hands. His tie had been loosened, the top button of his shirt open, a sport coat lay behind him on the bed. Jackson thought he might of looked rather dapper in the suit he had chosen for tonight, that is if his body wasn’t racked repedetly wth sobs. Another man, Jackson assumed to be the doctor with sedatives, sat in the chair that was near the window.

“Hello. I’m Detective Ellis Jackson CPD and this is my colleague Detective Edwards.”

Robert Lipschitz was pulled from whatever place his mind had taken him and turned towards Jackson and Edwards. But didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry for your loss. And be sure that we will do everything in our power to figure out what happened. But first I have to ask you a few questions.”

The man in the chair spoke first. “Does it have t be right this second. As you can see he is in no shape to be interrogated.”

Interesting choice of words, Jackson thought. But instead said, “Believe me this is far from an interrogation, mister--”

“Doctor. Doctor Henry Mills.”

“Yes, Mr. Mills,” Jackson forgone the use of “doctor” to see what kind of effect it would have. And the look that crossed Mills’ face was worth the price of admission. “And Mr. Mills, how do we all happen to know each other?”

Since Mills was first to chime in and Lipschitz still looked dazed and out of it --no doubt the work of the sedative he had taken-- Jackson moved on to the other target in the room.

“His wife and I went to school together.”

“Is that so.” Jackson wonder if Mills was one the boys she had stolen from someone else back in the day. And by his presence Jackson was guessing then that not all of Mandy Lane’s --now Lipschitz-- classmates disliked her.

“Yes. Is that some sort of crime?”

“Mr. Mills--”

Doctor.”

“Yes. Dr. Mills, is there some sort of reasoning to why you are being so defensive?”

“I’m not being defensive. I just find it appalling that you would pick this time and place to start questioning a person whose wife just died.”

“Dr. Mills,” Edwards broke in, “ we are just trying to formulate the events that lead up to the death of Mrs. Lipschitz. And to make sure that nothing is left out. The best way for us, sometimes, is to question people when those events are still fresh in the minds of witnesses.”

“It’s okay.” Robert Lipschitz’s voice sounded strained, quiet. He cleared his throat before beginning again. “It’s okay, Henry. What do you guys need to know?”

“Was there anything unusual going on with your wife in, say, the last couple of days?”

“What do mean?”

“Just, was she acting strange? More secretive than usual? No strange people hanging around?”

“What?! You think she was murdered?” Henry Mills said.

“Mr Mil--”

“Doctor. I’m a doctor.”

“Mills, can you please step outside. Edwards here will take your statement.”

“I would rather stay with my friend.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. Before Mills had said he was Mandy’s high school chum.

“It wasn’t a request, Mist-- Doctor Mills.”

“Right this way, Dr. Mills,” Edwards pulled the door open as she spoke. Henry Mills got up from the chair reluctantly and made his way past them and into the hallway.

Once the door shut, Jackson continued. “Mr. Lipschitz?”

“Oh. Yeah... ah... no. Nothing like that. Nothing unusual to speak of.”

“Mind if I ask what you do for a living, Mr. Lipschitz.”

“I’m a dental hygienists.”

Ten minutes later Jackson exited room 1104. Taking note as he did that Dr. Henry Mills looked agitated. Who then swiftly re-entered the room. Leaving the two detectives to themselves.

“Learn anything?” Jackson said.

“More than Mills is as asshole? Not really. You?”

“Not much from what Lipschitz had to say. But there is more to learn from body language and the way they act at times than what they have to say in words.”

Detective Marjorie Edwards looked confused with Jackson’s riddle. “Then you did learn something?”

“I did. I’m just not sure exactly what it is yet.”  

 


© Copyright 2017 Paul Dabrowski. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

More Mystery and Crime Short Stories