Dark Ending by C.L. Brees

Author:C.L. Brees [Brees, C.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brees Rostveit Media
Published: 2017-11-25T23:00:00+00:00

NINETEEN

..................

78th Precinct, Brooklyn

December 14, 2005

9:18 A.M.

Alex stood outside the interrogation room peering through the two-way mirror at a distraught Boris Topol pacing around the metal table that was centered in the space. It was always Alex’s opinion that guilty people typically didn’t act nervously; they usually gave up and sat calmly or sometimes even slept.

Figuring he had made the suspect wait long enough, he flung open the door and entered the interrogation room, holding two file folders close to his body. Boris retreated to the metal chair that was pulled out from the table.

Alex threw the folders on top of the table, and the contents scattered across everywhere. He began clicking the button on top of his pen repeatedly and moving confidently from side to side. Topol sat down in the chair as Alex grabbed a chair directly across from him and pulled it out, scraping the metal legs against the floor. The sound irritated Alex but he also watched as Topol grew more uncomfortable.

“Boris, Boris, Boris,” Alex began. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“What you’re talking about? Why am I here?” asked Topol.

Alex slammed his hand on the tabletop. “We’re here because you’ve been lying to me from the start.”

Alex picked up the first folder from the table as Mr. Topol sat there, motionless. Alex opened the cover of the first folder and began sifting through the papers inside.

“First off, it was you who phoned in the anonymous 911 call back on the morning of November 16th. You tried to say you were just walking your dog, but let’s cut the crap—you killed that girl. Didn’t you?” Alex asked aggressively.

“I’ve never killed anyone. I was walking my dog through the park like I already said,” he replied, a sense of pleading in his voice.

“Now I find you at yet another crime scene a little over a month apart. How do you explain the coincidence? Because as a detective, I don’t believe in them.” Alex closed the file folder and picked up the second one.

“Okay, all right. So I saw on the news that we found another body in the park. I came down to check out what was going on. Honestly.”

“I see,” Alex said as he opened the second folder and plucked out a single photo. “Then explain to me why you never told me about this.”

Alex flung the photo from Juliette Cochran’s files across the table. Boris Topol reached out to stop the photo from flying away. He picked up the four-by-six picture and studied it thoroughly. His mouth awkwardly trembled and a bead of sweat lined his forehead. Alex observed him, trying his damnest to analyze the man’s behavior.

“Where did you get this?” Mr. Topol asked as he set the photo back on the tabletop.

“Doesn’t matter. Were you or were you not there at the crime scene of Veronica Park?” Alex asked.

Mr. Topol sighed. “Yes; I was there.” He paused. “But I didn’t kill none of those girls, I swear.”

“Now, you can see my dilemma here. We have you at the homicide of the second victim, the third, and now the sixth.

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