다빈치!지식창고 - (Slice) Chapter 3

Lisa Jenkins tore the sheets off the bed as she typically did whenever she got together with Philip. She was singing to herself, happy, as usual, after having satisfactory sex. She gathered additional dirty clothes, put them in a basket to make a full washer-load, took them to the laundry room, and started the cycle. Her face was still flushed from lovemaking. She wondered why she slept around on Geoff...cheated rather...since she slept with Philip only. She was not in love with Philip. She considered the possibility that her passion for Geoff had evaporated, that she needed variety, and knew that Philip could easily satisfy her sexual appetite. The doorbell rang interrupting her thoughts. She went to the door, pausing to look at her hair in the hallway mirror. She put on her best smile when she saw Redmond and pushed her hair behind her left ear. “Yes?” “Ms Jenkins?” “Yes, may I help you?” “I’m Rick Redmond, Detective Redmond, Halifax police.” He showed her his identification. She glanced at his badge and said nothing.

“Umm...may I come in?” “Sure, I guess.” She led him through the wide entry hall and into a large living room, which was divided into two separate sitting areas; the largest one was focused on a tiled fireplace with a granite hearth. The room was painted a shade of desert sand and decorated with a blend of antique and modern furniture and accessories. A large oriental carpet covered part of the oak hardwood floor. The second area was devoted to entertainment, including a TV and a CD player and casual seating. “What is this about?

Is something wrong? Did I forget to pay a parking ticket?” She said smiling. “If you don’t mind, can we sit down?” Redmond waited for her to sit, watched her skillfully cross her legs, and then sat across from her. “Oh god, I hate it when you say something like that, ‘can we sit down’. You make it sound like something terrible has happened. Is this about Geoffrey?” Redmond looks away, squeezing his hands. “Well...” H expelled a deep sigh of frustration and anticipation. “For Christ’s sake, are you going to tell me or not! Something has happened to Geoffrey, hasn’t it?” “Your husband is dead, Ms Jenkins. He was killed earlier this morning.” “Oh my God! Oh my God!” Her eyes filled with liquid, began to overflow, and her throat tightened to a narrow passage. Her words were barely audible yet did not indicate how devastated she felt, “What happened? Was it an accident? Did he have an accident...in his car?” “No, it wasn’t an accident. He was...at least we think he was murdered. Anyway that’s what it looks like.” Her voice rose and became unstable, and through the numbness she felt said, “What! It looks like it? You’re not sure?” Redmond said nothing.

Redmond stood up and tentatively approached her, reached out and thought about taking her hand but had second thoughts; instead, he put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ms Jenkins. Your husband was killed just minutes after he started his golf game.” Her face went ashen. She felt as though she was struck a blow to her solar plexus, on the verge of collapse.

“If you prefer, we could talk about this later.” “No. No.” She collected herself and sat up tall. “Please continue. No doubt I’ll have to go through this, if not now, then later.” “Okay. I will have to ask you a few questions.” He waited for her response and when none came continued. “Where were you this morning, say for the last two and a half hours?” “I was here all morning.” “Can anyone verify that?” “Oh god. Am I a suspect in my own husband’s murder?” She asked overwhelmed. “Please, Ms Jenkins...this is hard enough” “A friend of Geoffrey‘s was here with me for about two hours. In fact, he left about 20 minutes ago.” “And what time did your friend get here?” “I don’t remember, detective, maybe about nine or so.” Redmond looked at her without saying a word, wondering who the friend was, why he was there, and why he stayed for such a long time, typical of his suspicious nature. Lisa responded as if she read his mind. “He was going to play a round of golf with Geoffrey, but changed his mind. He came here to tell him, but Geoffrey had already left.” “Do you play golf, Ms Jenkins?” “No, I hate golf. It is a stupid game. If I want to walk around for four hours, I rather do it on a hiking trail.” Her voice started to break. “Oh, I’m sorry.” “I don’t play either.” He said. “I think it’s a waste of time and energy. I would rather work out in a gym.” He paused, looking directly at her.

He had an 8:00 tee time, I think.” Redmond scribbled the times in his notepad. “Did he leave with anyone?” “No. He was going to play a round with Philip, but Philip didn’t show up until later, as I explained before.” “Philip is the friend that was with you?” “Yes.” “Does Philip have a last name?” “Don’t be smart with me, Detective. This isn’t the time to be rude.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” She rolled her eyes. “I guess that‘s not an excuse.” He said. “Philip’s last name is Nickerson. Philip Nickerson. Philip with one l.”

Redmond jotted the name in his notepad. “What time did you say Philip Nickerson got here?” “Around 8:30 or 9:00, I think.” “Where can I reach Mr. Nickerson?” “He lives in the south end, not far from here.” Lisa gave him the phone number and address from memory, which he noted, and then her body began to slump, and tremble as she attempted to hold herself straight. It was a losing battle, and she gave in, allowing her body to collapse, folding over her thighs, and grief to settle in. “We can go over this another time if you want.” She pulled herself up. “No, let’s continue.” “I will have to go through Geoff’s things; his room, his office. Does he have a computer?” “Yes, he does. Do you want to see it?” “Not now. I will have someone come to look through his belongings, and perhaps pick up some of his things.” A painful sound, between a moan and a primordial cry, emanated from her body.

She shrugged weakly and shook her head, and struggled to stand. “Did your husband use drugs, Ms Jenkins?” Lisa shook her head. “No, he never used drugs. He hated how drugs could steal your joy, your spirit, and more importantly, your control.” “What about gambling? Did he gamble at all?” He asked.

“That’s okay. I’ll find my way out. Thank you.” He started walking towards the hall, stopped, and turned. “In the meantime, if you think of anything that might be helpful, please call me...anytime. Okay?” He took a card from his jacket and placed it on the small table in the hallway. “Of course I will,” she said. “And if there is anything that I can do...anyone I can contact...” He shrugged, turned without finishing, and left closing the door behind him.