[Heal,Emotions,Generously,Rare,Pale]
I sat at the defendants table, my left hand on the table squeezing Monique’s clasped hands. We sat scarcely breathing, waiting to hear what the Judge and the assistant district attorney were going to say to Aiden’s motion. After handing them the documents and some whispered comments to the judge and ADA. Aiden came back and sat beside me. The judge sat on the bench reading for a moment, before asking the ADA if they needed time to answer the motion.
“Yes, your honor.”
“Very well, we’ll be back here in one week to answer the motion to dismiss. In the meantime would you like to be heard on the issue of bail?”
“Yes your honor, the state recommends no bail on the murder charge.”
“Mr Backlund, would you like to be heard on the issue of bail?”
“Yes, your honor, due to the extraordinary circumstances of this case I would ask that my client be released on her own recognisance. She has ties to the community, a stable home environment and employment. Seven of her co-workers and her boss are here for her now. We wouldn’t be opposed to monitoring or supervision, your honor.”
“As I’m sure you are aware Mr Backlund, I can’t just release a murder suspect on her own recognisance. I’ll set bail at a very reasonable one hundred thousand dollars.”
My heart sank, we’d have enough trouble raising a thousand dollars let alone one hundred times that amount. This system was so clearly fixed. Money, money, money, you have money you walk away free as a lark. You don’t have money, you sit in prison until the state can fit you into their schedule. Innocence or guilt seem to have very little to do with the justice system in America.
“How do I pay the bail, you honor?”
I turned to see who spoke, Bianca was standing looking toward the judge. Who hammered his gavel and told her to sit down and ask the defense attorney after the proceedings were concluded, and they pretty much were at this point. The attorneys agreed to return in a week so that the ADA would answer the motions then the case would be adjourned while the judge decided on the motions after reading both sides of the arguments. At least this is the information that Aiden provided me later on.
I drove Bianca to the nearest commercial bank, where she arranged a transfer of funds from her bank to theirs; they eventually handed her a certified check for one hundred thousand dollars.
“You weren’t kidding about being a successful stock broker, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t, I was very very good at my job and I hated it, and myself for doing it. So I woke up one morning and just said enough. I cashed it all in, put one quarter of the money into crypto. Crypto went through the roof so I cashed in half, just in case.”
“Wow, I had no idea, so why come to the collective?”
“Because the only writing I did in college was that freshman composition course every college seems to force every student to take. But in my opinion it was just a waste of my time, so I was taking six classes that semester and I devoted about one twentieth of my time on the composition course. But after I cashed in, and decided to write, I decided I need more than the low effort I’d put into the comp class. I could go back to college, or study online or get in with a group of writers. I’ve always learned more by doing than just studying and deciding my best way forward was to fall in with a group of writers. I wanted to learn to write clearly, not poetically, with no flowery prose. My subject was already wu wu enough.”
“I thought your writing was quite good on your application. While I don’t really appreciate the subject matter, I found your article you submitted interesting and sometimes remarkably humorous. That’s why I picked you.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed them, but it wasn’t written with you in mind, it was written for me. I feel that there are three types of people. One that is very much concerned with spirituality, those that are satisfied with philosophy, those that don’t care about either and just want to get on with living. You are satisfied with Epicurus’s Paradox, that true happiness is the greatest good, the way to achieve that is to live simply to enjoy what you have, not worry about what you don’t. But the paradox, people geared towards spirituality can’t live with two opposing ideas in their mind. They have to know that there is a path forward and they are prepared to walk it. But modern life doesn't give much opportunity to walk that path. That’s why I, a spiritual person, felt I was killing myself slowly day by day on wall street. Why I quit. But honestly I don’t know what I truly believe. So I write. To write is to learn, and whenever I had a difficult decision to make in life I wrote it out, I’d keep writing until I got to the point that I knew what the right decision was for me at that time in my life.”
“So you are undecided on the supernatural.”
“Yes, very much so. I don’t have an argument to refute materialism. All I know is that I want it to be wrong. I don’t want my ‘consciousness’ or soul to die, when my brain ceases to function. But I very much suspect that it will.”
The bank clerk came over with the check we’d been waiting for. Then I drove her back to the courthouse. Where Aiden was waiting for us. Bianca handed him the check, and about twenty minutes later Monique came out of the back with Aiden.
“Alright, Monique. You are due back here in one week, for a decision from the court on our motions. If you don’t return, your friend will lose her one hundred thousand dollars, is that clear?”
“Yes, Mr Backlund, I’ll be here if I have to walk, I promise.”
“You, won’t have to walk, Monique, I’ll be driving you. Don’t worry Aiden, we’ll be here. Monique has done nothing wrong, and we look forward to proving that.”
“Laura, if you find out anything else before next week call me will you?”
“Yes, Aiden, you’ll be my first call, but I still have a question. Do you want me to call the troopers to find out if they ever solved the case?”
“No, let me call them, I’ll get back to you with the answer. In fact I’d be willing to bet that the ADA is on the phone with them right now. They may even be waiting for you when you get home. Monique, you can answer any questions they may have for you up to the date that you created the graphic novel. But if they ask anything about the time after its creation just refuse to answer on the advice of counsel. If they want a formal statement, have them contact me and we’ll agree on a time and place. If you have any questions or concerns, call me anytime.”
We were all packed into my car on the way back. I don’t think anyone minded the lack of space, seeing as we were bringing Monique home. But I drove as quickly and safely as I could, if I wanted to make it to the library and storytime and two potential suspects, time was of the essence.
When we got back to the bookstore, everyone unpacked themselves from my car. I was glad to see the absence of a state police vehicle, I just wanted Monique to have a moment to herself before she was dragged into something from her past. But Monique held back.
“Laura, I just want to tell you how grateful I am for everything you have done for me, and for giving me a stable place to live. No one has ever gone out of their way for me in the past. I can’t tell you just how much it means to me.”
“Honey, you are the victim here. There is no need to thank me. You’ll have a place to live here as long as I own the building, so don’t worry about that. In fact don’t worry about anything, we are going to figure this out. Go on in and take a nice long hot bath and relax. We’ll have something special for dinner tonight, to celebrate you coming home.”
She hugged me then ran into the store. I went in to see how Lucy was doing, today was her first time opening the store and I know that must have been a big deal for her. So I wanted to check on her before going to the library to search for a few more suspects. I went in to find Lucy behind the counter almost in tears.
“Lucy, what’s wrong?”
“My Project Marginalia, might not have been such a great idea as I thought, Laura.”
“What are you talking about, it’s a brilliant idea I can’t wait to see how our patrons respond.”
“Just take a look at this then.”
It was a copy of Truman Capote’s ‘In Cold Blood’. Inside was a flyer advertising Project Marginalia. Inside in blood red the message that was scrawled was ‘Stop investigating or you are next’. Next to that were two stick figures one with an ax, clearly threatening the other.
“Lucy, honey, don’t worry about this, it wasn’t meant for you, it was meant for me.”
“I know Laura, that’s what I’m worried about. I was going to call the police but I figured what’s the point, they’ll just twist this around and try to pin it on you or Monique.”
“I’ll take this to the police myself. I’ve held my tongue long enough. Well I’ll have my say this afternoon. Now where did you pass out these flyers so far?”
“Just at the library, if you want to cancel, I can go to the library later and throw away the flyers.”
“No way, I told you I’m really looking forward to seeing what people come up with. We have the best customers, you can be sure this book didn’t come from one of them. Is this one of the books you bought to be shared?”
“No, I had no idea what it was, I had to look it up online. I’d seen the movie they made of his ‘Barefoot in the Park’ but ‘In Cold Blood’ is so different it’s almost like they were written by two different people.”
“That’s good, if it wasn’t part of Project Marginalia, it’s non-fiction so we don’t sell it, so it had to have come from somewhere. When the police properly investigate this, they might be able to trace its origin. The more clues this guy gives us the closer we will be to catching him. Clearly he’s worried now, or else why bother with the threat. Why not just whack me as suggested by his rather crude marginalia. Because they can’t for some reason, which is also encouraging. If you want to take some time off, I’d completely understand.”
“No, I’m not leaving you here alone. Maybe that’s why he can’t whack you because you are not alone here anymore. Think about it. He knocks you off a ladder and kills Lachlan. But don't have time to come back and finish you off because maybe a customer came in and disturbed them.”
“Yes, that's a good theory, but I just thought of another. Maybe they know me, maybe they even like me. So that’s why they haven’t hurt me.”
“They knocked you off a ladder and you were hospitalized as a result. That doesn’t sound like someone who likes you, it’s more like someone who just doesn't care who they have to hurt to achieve whatever their end goal is.”
“Yes, that’s also a possibility. But I will turn this over to the police, but not that ass Jones. I’ll just go over his head. But for now, I have a couple more suspects to try and locate and they might be in the library in about ten minutes so, are you sure you don’t want to go home. We can just close the store, it's no big deal.”
“Yes it is a big deal, it’s the first time I got to open the store and no stupid threat is going to rob me of my chance to close the store as well as open it.”
“Alright, but just know that if you change your mind and you decide you want to go home, I want you to go understand?”
“Yes, sure Laura, I won’t change my mind, but I understand that it’s alright if I do.”
I headed to the library. Would two bored blonde mothers or their partners, write a threatening message in a book and leave it at my door? I wouldn’t think so, but it’d be stupid not to follow every lead, no matter how slight. When I arrived there was no line at the desk, so I went right to Sarah.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Well, if it isn’t the bookstore owner, who owns fiction. I see your challenge to the libraries dominance in non-fiction, in a perverted and twisted way you are encouraging people to actually write in the books they borrow from you. You are sick Laura, you will languish in Dewy hell for eternity for these crimes against books and their lovers, bibliophiles all over the world.”
“Yet, you are still handing out our flyers, thank you this little experiment means a lot to my intern. Have you handed out any flyers to a man dressed in brown? Also could you look at this book, is it possibly a book that was withdrawn from circulation? Best not to touch it, I’m bringing it to the police. There was a threatening note inside.”
“From a real bibliophile who won’t let you champion the defacing of books is my bet?”
“No, Sarah, I’m serious. They threaten to chop me up with an ax, but it’s not about Project Marginalia. It’s about my investigation into Lachlan’s murder.”
“Ah, Laura I’m really sorry, I thought you were kidding around.”
“It’s Okay, Sarah, I know. You don’t have any security camera’s do you?”
“Nothing inside, we do have a camera that covers the front door. I can get you the footage to bring to the police if you want. But hold on, a sec, I need to send my assistant to sign for a delivery.”
I waved to Fred the custodian, who Sarah referred to as her assistant, as he was dispatched to receiving. Meanwhile Sarah made a copy of the last forty eight hours of security footage. She came back and handed me a flash drive. I’d go home and make a copy of the footage before I handed it over to the cops. That way I could review the footage myself.
“Sarah, did the two blondes show for storytime?”
“Yes, they are both over there now.”
“Did they know about each other?”
“Oh yes, a few times the three of them with kids in tow all left together. So I’d say they were very familiar with each other, if you take my meaning.”
“Yes I take your meaning, I wish I didn’t. I didn’t think that my opinion of Lachlan could get much lower, but I guess that would just be wrong. Thanks, and thanks for the footage.”
I went over to where the parents waited for their kids while the kids were read to by this week's volunteer. The blondes weren’t standing together, so I went to where blonde one stood and said “Hi, I’d like to offer my condolences, I hear you were quite close to Lachlan.”
First she looked startled, then scared. “Who are you?”
“I’m Laura, what do you say we go get a table and talk.”
She grudgingly agreed.
“What’s your name? Did your husband know about you and Lachlan?”
“Giulia McTiernan. No, of course not that would have ruined everything.”
“Did you kill him yourself?”
“No, of course not. Lachlan, was a great afternoon diversion. I miss him, why would I want to kill him? Now I’m just back to my same old boring life. Do you have any idea how boring it is being stuck with a toddler all day, every day? I’ll tell you it sucks. For a little while, I had my old life back. I was desirable and having a secret love affair, it was just like high school all over again."
“Well maybe you got jealous when Lachlan didn’t find you enough for him and added blonde number two into the mix.”
“If you mean Delphine, that was my idea, not Lachlans. Look, Lachlan talked a really good game, that was probably his writer’s imagination, but he was rather undeveloped if you get my meaning and his stamina was also not what I am used to. But still he made for a diverting afternoon, so I didn’t want to dump him. I wanted to spice it up, that’s why I invited Delphine into our little tryst. That’s when it became really satisfying for me. Before that it was just the danger and the sneaking around.”
“Well what about Delphine, do you think that she might have killed him or her husband?”
“Delphine isn't married, and she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s a freaking vegetarian.”
“Alright, go ask her to speak to me and I’ll forget I ever met you two, if she verifies what you just told me.”
A minute or two later Delphine was seated across from me.
“Delphine what did Lachlan say to you when he invited you to join him and Giulia?” I wanted to see if I could catch the two of them in a lie.
“He didn’t approach me at all, it was Giulia. She asked me if I wanted a little ‘Afternoon Delight’, and you’ve seen her, how could I pass that up.”
“Is that why you killed Lachlan, because you were jealous of the time he spent with Giulia?”
“No, I’d never kill anybody, besides he’s the reason that Giulia approached me in the first place. If anything I’m grateful for that. He might not have been very good in the sack, but he told great stories. I miss him. But I miss my afternoons with Guilia more.”
“So you two ended things after Lachlan died?”
“Yes, Giulia, can’t come to terms that she is a bisexual or a really repressed lesbian. I really can’t figure her out. But I can assure you neither of us wanted our afternoon meetings to come to a close.”
“What about your husband, could he have found out and killed Lachlan out of jealousy?”
“I’m not married, I just wanted to have a kid, while I was young. It’s just my daughter and I. That’s why I enjoyed my afternoons with Lachlan and Giulia, it wasn’t just adult fun, it was also adult conversation.”
“Well if you are a reader, I run the bookstore ‘Genre’s’ and we have bookclubs most nights. Stop in sometime and see if one of the clubs is a fit for you.”
“You’re a little old for me lady.”
“No, that’s not what I’m suggesting, I thought you might meet other adults your ‘age’.”
“I was just messing with you, and that is really kind. I’m not a huge reader, it tends to put me right to sleep.”
“Maybe, you just haven’t tried the right genre for you. What are your favorite movie genres”
“I like cheap funny horror movies and science fiction.”
“Well if you like funny and science fiction I’d recommend you try Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, nothing's funnier and horrific, the Earth gets destroyed right off. Hey, do you know where else Lachlan hung out during the day?”
“Yeah, he tried to get me to meet him at the bakery and the Midnight Bell, the hotel bar, but I never went, like I said I was really only interested in Giulia, I had zero interest in meeting him alone.”
“Thanks, Delphine.”
These two certainly didn’t kill Lachlan nor know who did, if I am any judge of character. So I went back to the counter and thanked Sarah before stopping back at the bookstore to copy the footage.
“How did you make out at the police station?” It was Lucy’s first question before I was barely in the door.
“I haven’t been there yet, I have some surveillance footage to copy, then I’m bringing the footage and the book and note to the police station.”
I copied all the footage onto my laptop then I walked over to the police station. There was a young police officer behind a glass barrier.
“I’d like to speak to Chief Hammarfors, please.”
“Could I ask your name please and what this is about?”
“Yes my name is Laura Eriksson and I’m here about something confidential. But he knows me. He also knows just how patient I am, so you can also tell him I’ll be occupying his lobby until he does see me, officer.”
Five minutes later, I was seated in the chief’s office.
“You know Laura, there was no reason to threaten my officer with a sit in protest. I’m always here for a tax payer and more importantly a voter.”
“Well August, the way your department has botched this case, I might just run for your job myself. I certainly couldn’t do a worse job if I didn’t even come into work.”
“I can’t interfere, it would be a conflict of interest.”
“August, a witness told me she saw someone watching my store. I was attacked. A member of my household was murdered. All the while that idiot you have assigned the case, has locked up the witness to an almost twenty year old cold case. Now my sixteen year old intern has been terrorized by a threatening note, telling me to stop investigating or I’ll be chopped up. I just stopped by to tell you that Jones ignored Claire Becker's report of a man watching the store the night before the murder. Instead Jones tried to terrorize Clair, claiming I was going to charge her with a crime. So before I get killed doing your department's job I want you to know that I’ve written four opinion pieces, detailing every phase of this investigation right down to my visit to your office this afternoon. If this case hasn’t been solved by either me or your department, my opinion pieces will go to the Gazette and the Plattsburg Press. If I happen to be murdered before that happens, I’d bet your life that the wire services will pick up the story. My fourth piece is really special. It'll pull at your heart strings, old lady pleads with Chief August Hammarfors for her life. The sixteen year old preacher's daughter is terror-stricken after a gruesome threat was left at the store and ignored by the local police department.”
He picked up the phone.
“I want Jones in my office within the next thirty seconds or you are both fired.”
Jones came rushing in but pulled back quickly to a stop when he saw me seated and smiling beatifically.
“What is she..”
“Shut up Jones, I want to see the sworn statement you took from Claire Becker, now.”
“I didn’t take a statement from her, it was obvious that she was being blackmailed by her.”
“Jones, you listen to me, I’ve known Claire Becker my entire life, she wouldn’t lie if you held a gun to her head, you are a complete moron. You go over there and get her statement and have it on my desk in one hour or pack your desk.”
Jones left, August picked up the phone.
“I want a police officer in a car outside the bookstore twenty four seven until this killer is caught.”
He hung up the phone.
“I’m sorry, Laura.”
“No, problem August I have faith in you, I’m sure you can solve this in a week.”
