Prompt: “Just let me have like, three seconds to pretend everything is okay before we go back in there.”
“Just let me have like, three seconds to pretend everything is okay before we go back in there,” I tell Detective Carver. He looks at me with concern but doesn’t say anything right away.
“Fine, but if anything happens, I’ll step in,” He reassured. I nod and turn the knob on the dark grey, steel door. It’s cold to the touch, giving me a shiver down my back before I enter. I take a deep breath.
“Mr. Harrison,” I pause. He looks up at me deadpan. No expression. Nothing that allows me any hints to what he’s thinking. “Where were you on the night of the 26th of June?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few moments and then, “I already told you. I was working. I’m not going to be a broken record because you’re ignorance is blocking your hearing.” He spoke very firmly, no hesitations.
“How late were you working? Did you take any breaks and leave the building?” I ask him. I pull the metal chair out, scraping across the floor as I do so. I sit down to face him, waiting for him to respond.
“I didn’t leave the building until the time I left. I’m a lawyer, I have stacks of paperwork to go through. I don’t have time for a break. I probably left around 10, not entirely sure,” He said.
“You do realize that what you’re being charged for is a serious matter, and what you aren’t saying now, is probably going to affect you later?” I tell him, trying to see how he responds.
“I do realize. I’m not a detective, but I’ve spoken with dozens of clients. I’ve said nearly the same thing to them because it’s my job. I understand that you think I killed my wife, I didn’t because I was working,” He started to raise his voice. This tells me that there’s something bothering him, and it’s not grief. “Detective, let me ask you this, have you ever found your wife lying there, dead? Her pool of blood laying all around her?”
“No, I have not. I’m not married,” I respond. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t kill her.”
“I did not kill her. I loved her so much that I would-” He stopped. I look up at him, he’s getting emotional.
“That you what? Want to end her life?” I say. He goes back to a deadpan face after taking a deep breath.
“I want my lawyer, Detective,” He says.