The Suspect

By Mia Miriam Sojan

I had just gotten out of my apartment, and was debating on whether or not to grab a coffee before heading to work, when I got the call. It was Jefferson. 

“Sorry to disturb you sir, but you might have to hurry over to Parkinson’s Avenue right now. A man was found hanging in his living room this morning. The whole situation is rather odd and I’ve been racking my brain for the last few hours trying to make sense of what’s going on.”

It wasn’t unusual for Jefferson to ruin my mornings with work related matters. Today however, his tone had an underlying hesitancy that seemed to hint at something urgent.

“Was the man identified?” I enquired.

“Yes, but I can’t reveal matters over phone. I’ll update you on the situation when you are here” he replied

His reply confirmed my suspicion. The man who had died was a person of importance.

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 Scattered gambling cards and overturned furniture met me as I entered the living room at Parkinson’s Avenue. One look at the room was enough to conclude that the man who’d died here had been at the verge of insanity. 

Jefferson came running over, the moment he saw me.

“The man who died was the mayor” he said catching his breath.

“What??!!!” I asked unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

“We are still trying to understand the situation, sir” he responded.

“Weren’t you here since morning? What exactly are you trying to figure out may I ask?” I enquired.   

“We haven’t found anything indicating to a foul play. However, I’m certain it's a murder. All evidences point to it. There are no fingerprints on any of the cards in the room and upon questioning the locals, one of the neighbours seem to have seen a man going out of the mayor’s house last night. You should take a look at the table there to get a brief idea of how puzzling this is” he said pointing to my right.

At first glance, the table appeared empty. But upon closer inspection, I saw something glistening in the sunlight. As I drew closer, I saw what Jefferson had been referring to as ‘puzzling’. In the middle of the table, lay a tarot card, and it read “the moon”.

“The odd thing here is the fact that we couldn’t find the remaining deck of tarots anywhere in the house” Jefferson continued.

“Brief me on everything you know about this case” I said

“Yes, on the basis of what I’ve discovered, the mayor’s body was first discovered by the maid. The poor woman ran over to the neighbour’s house, screaming in horror. It was Mr. Whitman who called the police upon the lady’s request. We have decided to rule out the chances of either of them being suspects based on evidence.” He explained.

“Jefferson…. You have no factual evidence here! How can you rule out either of them being suspects on the mere basis of your morality! We are to abide the law and those who commit a crime deserve to be punished regardless of whether they seem unlikely to kill” 

“I am not trying to be morale. Ever since the virology lab incident there is not a single person in this town who doesn’t hate him. I wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted him dead. I know I shouldn’t be thinking this, but with the mayor gone, I’m hoping for our town to finally be free of corruption.”

“That is what makes this case even more complicated. Everybody including you and me are equally likely to have some degree of involvement in this case. We all have a common reason to get revenge don’t you think? and that’s why we should be as thorough as we can” I responded.

The virology lab incident influenced our town in many ways. Upon the request of the minister, the mayor had visited the RCV biological weapons facility near our town. There, he not only neglected protocol but also didn’t replace the filter he was photographed unclogging. The virologists, unaware that the lab workers were asked to move out to accommodate the mayor, carried on with their work as usual when the next shift began. This caused an anthrax leak and this deadly powder caused hundreds to perish and left many with chronic conditions. This incident continues to haunt our town even today.

The next morning, I walked into the office determined to solve this case.  After handling majority of the paperwork, I decided to take my leave and appointed Jefferson with the task of collecting the autopsy results. 

I finally headed to Mr. Whitman’s residence for the questioning. I had been told not to completely rely on Mr. Whitman’s recollection of events as he suffered from mild amnesia. Nonetheless, I was willing to try.

I arrived at Mr. Whitman’s at around 2.00pm. I knocked on his door and it took a while for the door to finally open.

“Sorry to disturb. I’m Joseph Carter, the head of the local police department. I might have to speak to you regarding something” I said politely.

The man’s eyes widened as colour drained from his face. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost. 

“I didn’t kill anyone” he said as I was about to speak.

“Never said you did, sir” I replied keeping my calm.

“May I enter?” I asked. To which he responded by opening the door further.

“Sir, I’d like to know if you’ve noticed anything odd happening here as of late?”

“Have we met before?” he enquired.

“I don’t think. I’d really appreciate it if you could answer my question.” I responded.

“I remember seeing a man walk out of the mayor’s residence the day before he died. He was tall, probably around your height, had sharp features and a very crooked nose. I think he had a beard. Can’t recall much” he replied nervously.

After a while, I finally decided to leave. The minute I entered the car, I rung up Jefferson.

 “I’ll go to the forensic lab. I need you to collect information on Mr. Whitman and thoroughly analyse his profile, as soon as possible. I’m certain he has something to do with the case. I’ve got a description of the possible suspect. Ask Lyn to sketch the image within today.” 

I met with Jefferson that evening. He’d bought both the profile and the sketch.

“He doesn’t seem to have a history of crime. He was a businessman before the anthrax outbreak. But since then, he hasn’t been working due to his constantly deteriorating health.” Jefferson told me.

“What about the sketch? I’ll take it to him tomorrow” I said.

“Yah, the description he gave you was very vague. Lyn found it very difficult to sketch with the little information you gave. Here, this is what she drew.”

Three days later as I was returning home, I got yet another call. It was Jefferson.

“Sir, there is a problem. Mr. Whitman was found dead this morning. He died of natural causes. He had severe palpitations it seems”

“Wh-. Why now of all times? We were closing in on him as our possible suspect!”

“There’s nothing we can do about this. Looks like the mayor is troubling us even when he’s dead!” remarked Jefferson

“He was the only witness we had. I refuse to believe this! Who found him dead?”

“His daughter. She came to visit” he replied.

“Oh! Must’ve been difficult. I honestly don’t know how to respond” 

After he hung up, I sighed in relief. It's been days since I’ve had time to do anything besides work. It's not easy being, both the criminal and the law-abiding police officer at the same time. I wouldn’t have added the cyanide I found on my visit to the forensic lab in Mr. Whitman’s food, had he not told me what he saw. I wouldn’t have volunteered to collect the autopsy results in the first place, had he not seen me that night. 

He had quite the memory for someone with amnesia, I must say! I knew from the terror on his face that somewhere in the back of his mind he recognised me. Well, I didn’t kill the mayor. He hung himself. All I did was send him documents he thought could never be found, proving to him that no crime goes unpunished. It was our ritual each week. It was fun watching him summon his psychic every time I mailed him a document. Had he decided to come clean on the deadline I gave him, he wouldn’t have had the need to die. Well, it won’t be long before the media finds out about his wrongdoings.

 Had I not gone into the house to fish out the documents I had sent him, maybe then Mr. Whitman would’ve been alive. Oh! And the tarot card? That was just a cherry on top. Who thought the mayor’s favourite tarot, ‘the moon’ would be what reveals his deception? He deserves to be punished for the number of people he killed and I sincerely hope he regrets his actions. It's not always that a police officer is suspected, is it? And as long as I’m one, I’ll be ok, won’t I?

By Mia Miriam Sojan