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  “What is that supposed to mean?” asks Elliot. “What’s going on, Arquez?” Arquez does not answer him. “Go check it out,” says Elliot. Monaghan gets up and leaves the room. Elliot and Arquez spend the next five minutes in silence. Elliot stares at the bodyguard, but his stare is not met.

  “What is going on?” asks Joyce. Elliot does not answer. Finally the Chief returns to the room. He has a smile on his face—one of disbelief, not happiness.

  “Find anything interesting?” asks Arquez.

  “I called him back and faxed over a picture of David Clarkson. Not sure who uses fax anymore, but this guy does. Anyway, when he saw the face he realized that he was thinking of a different David Clarkson and had gotten them mixed up. The alibi does not hold,” says Monaghan.

  “Are you serious?” asks Elliot. Arquez sits there smiling.

  “Then, incredibly,” says Monaghan, “we got a call from an employee at the hotel. They did not know that we were investigating a murder. They had been on holiday until today. Which is very… well, anyway, he claims that on the evening of the murder, he saw David Clarkson and his entourage—including this fuckwit here—walking towards the exit of the hotel, before David himself did a u-turn and returned to the room, by himself. He was very clear about that point. He said that at 10:14 pm, the approximate time of the murder, he went up to the presidential suite after he was called on to deliver some champagne. When he got up there, he was shooed from the room by David Clarkson, who looked to be alone. He asked if this was enough for an arrest.”

  “Wow,” says Arquez. “That is some fortunate eyewitness testimony. I am sure that you can go ahead and arrest David now. For the record, I was at the Sheffield Men’s Club all night. I have fourteen witnesses and I can give you each of their numbers from memory of you would like them. Now, if I am free to go, I believe that my ride will be here in approximately twelve minutes.”

  “You are a prick,” says Elliot.

  They go back to the other room and play the new recording for David. For a moment, he cannot speak. Then the words come spewing out.

  “He was there, he was! I just watched, he killed her, I could not stop him. He gave me the alibi, told me to use it if I needed to. She wanted to blackmail me. She had seen some accounts that I was involved in—I don't keep track, I don't deal with the money. If I am going down then he is going down with me. He was there, I swear. I’ll testify to it, whatever you need.”

  “Shut up!” shouts Monaghan. “You are such a pussy. We have you, okay? We know that he killed her and you were there, but he has an alibi which checks out. You are finished.”

  “Look at him. He is hurting. Push him, Elliot,” says Joyce.

  “You are a pussy,” says Elliot. “Having another man do your dirty work for you. Was your daddy not around when you were younger? Now he pays your way. No wonder you didn't have the balls to do it. You may as well be castrated,” says Elliot.

  “I bet he cannot satisfy a woman,” says Joyce.

  “Did you have him kill her because you couldn't get it up? What was she, a prostitute? Was she laughing at you for your incompetence? Were you—”

  “Shut the fuck up!” shouts David. “I killed her with my own two hands, and you know what? I enjoyed it. You should have seen the look on his face. Arquez couldn't believe that I did it, that I just killed her. Ha! He looked like he had seen a ghost. I showed him, showed him what I was capable of. I showed them all. Wait until my father hears about this, just wait. I laughed as I felt the bones in her neck being crushed. I fucking—” The door slams and everyone is gone. “Hey! Come back here. Listen to me. Wait until you hear what I did to her. How easy it was to kill her. I am a man! I am a man!”

  Elliot, Monaghan, and Joyce stand outside the door and listen to the muffled ramblings of David Clarkson shouting from inside.

  “Easiest confession I ever got,” says Monaghan.

  “You lied in there,” says Elliot. “Could be bad in court.”

  “Could it?” asks Monaghan. “You know, I think that I put the same tape back in there when we went back in. I think that I heard it rewind. If we were to listen to it now, there is a chance that it has been overwritten by the mad shouts of a murderer.”

  “And the tape with Arquez?” asks Elliot.

  “That machine is faulty. Sometimes it records, sometimes it does not. Cutbacks are really affecting us,” says Monaghan.

  “I am starting to like you Chief,” says Elliot.

  “Don’t get used to it,” says Monaghan.

  Elliot sits with Joyce in his apartment. Something is changing and they both know it. Joyce is fading in and out like she is being drawn from this world and into another.

  “I think that I will be gone soon,” says Joyce. “I am being taken away, but I know that I will return. The memory which was bothering me, I think that I know what it is. I have a memory of a man. I am pursuing him—no, investigating him. It is an old case, one I worked on but never solved. It is weird, but I think he may be the man who killed me. I think that he was the last case I was involved in. I am not sure—just a hunch. I believe that I am being taken there. I am not sure how or why or what or when or anything else like that, but I know that I will need your help. I have been hunting him for three years. He always got away, but I know that I can catch him. Will you help me?”

  “Of course,” says Elliot. “We’ll get him, don't worry. We’ll get him.” Will we? What the fuck is going on? I am sure that the man she investigated was the one that killed her. Just a hunch. If we get him—if we are able to get him—then what does that mean? Can we actually get him? If we get him, does she die? If she doesn't die, then she can’t be here. It’s too fucked up for me to even think about. I will help her, but will she help me?

  “Thank you,” says Joyce.

  “There is one condition,” says Elliot.

  “Name it,” says Joyce.

  “You help me with a case of my own,” says Elliot.

  “You know that I will,” says Joyce. “What is the case?”

  “I’ll give you the details later, but I am looking for a woman,” says Elliot.

  “This case is close to your heart in some way,” says Joyce.

  “Yeah,” says Elliot. “Very close.”

  “I can sense your pain,” says Joyce. “Two detectives, two cases.”

  “Partners,” says Elliot.

  “Partners,” says Joyce. She flashes like a broken lightbulb and she is gone. Elliot stares at the empty space, holding one thing in his mind: the smile she gave as she left this world. It was a smile more real than he had ever seen, it was more alive and genuine that he had expected.

  Partners. It sounds weird, but it is right. For years I have not wanted one, hated any who have tried. But I like her. We work well together. The first partner I have had in a long time, and the first friend. I hope she comes back.

  Copyright 2017 by Rebecca Stout - All rights reserved.

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