Murder Mystery Los Angeles
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I sat across the table from my client, who looked as if she’d been through a blender. She was trembling so hard that I could hear it and see it in her hands. Her eyes were puffy with tears and mascara streaked down her cheeks. It was mid-afternoon on a Monday afternoon, which meant two things: first, that she hadn’t gone to work yet; second, that we had plenty of time before her husband got home.
“You okay?” I asked her gently. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”
She shook her head. “No, no. This is fine. I just…I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” she said quietly. She took a deep breath and let it out shakily. “He’s never home anymore.”
The man sitting next to her was completely still except for his eyes, which were wide and wild. He nodded slightly once or twice but otherwise made no sound. His wife lowered her voice when she started talking again, leaning close enough over the table that I could smell alcohol on her breath.
“When he left last night after our daughter went to bed, he told me to pack up the rest of the stuff in the office and come back here to wait until he called to tell me when to move into the new place.” She paused and swallowed heavily. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time.
We’ve talked about moving there together. But then I heard the door open upstairs and he came downstairs and out the front door. And then he took off like a bat outta hell and I knew something was wrong. When I tried calling him later, his phone was off. The cops picked him up coming home from work.
They thought he’d been drinking, but when they tested him, his blood-alcohol level was .14 percent. Which is really high for anyone, especially someone driving a car. So…” She shrugged. “They released him. Only now they’re saying that maybe he did do it. Maybe he killed her. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush. I listened carefully. She was telling me all the signs to look for because she wanted them to be there.
“And when he got home yesterday morning, he was so cold and mean. Nothing I said or did would matter. Then I heard another door downstairs and I followed him and saw him get into the elevator and go right up to the penthouse floor. That’s where they live, you know.
All the way at the top. So I waited downstairs in case he needed me. I figured if he was gonna kill her, he wouldn’t take her far from home. And then he came downstairs and dragged me into the living room. Pulled off his wedding ring and threw it at me. Told me she was dead and that I could leave.
Just like that.” She rubbed her face with her hands. “Then he went upstairs and closed himself in the bathroom. I stayed with him until he came down and took off again. Drove off without a word. Didn’t even say goodbye.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. “That was four hours ago. I haven’t seen him since.”
I gazed evenly at the man sitting beside her. He had a blank expression and wore an expensive suit with enough jewelry to make a jeweler jealous. His hair was perfectly groomed and his skin was smooth. If there were any signs of a struggle, he kept them hidden well under the tailored clothes.
“Did he have trouble breathing? A runny nose?”
His wife nodded. “Yes. He’s always had a bad cough and I’m sure he’s been smoking more lately. Couldn’t sleep. It must have caught up with him.”
“What about your husband?”
She hesitated. “Hmmm? Oh, yes. He has a lot of money. Pretty much makes up for having a shitty marriage.”
The husband chuckled. “Thanks, honey.”
The wife smiled. “Oh, that’s not true. You’re a good man. Good father. Always treated me fairly and honestly. If only you were a little kinder to our daughter. Or a little less controlling.”
There was a pause.
“…is that right?”
“Yep.”
My client sighed. “Well, he’s finally going to get some help. Some real help. The police are calling it murder. No one knows why yet, but that’s probably because he didn’t leave a note or call ahead. Now we wait for the coroner to determine the cause of death and then the lawyers will start arguing how much he’ll pay to whoever’s left behind. Who knows? Perhaps he’ll settle out of court. Or maybe he won’t.”
The woman turned to her husband. “Why don’t you go upstairs and see if he’s okay?”
“I can’t. If he wants to talk to anyone, he’ll come down. And I should stay here and—” His voice broke off and he looked away. “…I shouldn’t say anything else. Not now anyway.”
His wife kissed him gently. “You’re tired. Go upstairs and get some sleep.”
He glanced quickly at his daughter and then nodded. He stood up and walked swiftly toward the rear door. He opened it and stepped outside. She watched him leave. After several minutes, she turned back to my client.
“Was there anything else, Mrs…?”
“Malone.”
She gave me a quick smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I guess I better get home. Call me if you need anything.”
“Of course,” I replied. “Have a safe drive.”
She thanked me again and climbed into the car. She drove off and I let myself back inside the building.
After a few moments, I called the chief of detectives on his cell phone. They knew each other well. One thing they had in common was the ability to keep their personal lives completely separate from work.
Chief Sullivan answered.
“Good afternoon, Chief.”
“Hello, Mr. Malone. Are you at the scene?”
“No, sir. I’m still at the office.”
“How’s everything going?”
“Pretty slow. We’ve already got the search warrant approved and we’re waiting for the forensic team to arrive. Once they get started, we’ll have a pretty good idea what happened by tonight. How’s the family doing?”
The chief paused before answering. “They’re not happy. But the chief is also a very good man. Even though he and his wife separated last year, he’s still a loving father. The girl seems to love him too.”
“She sounds like a good kid. Why would someone want to kill him?”
“We don’t know yet, but it’s hard to imagine it wasn’t a murder-suicide. It looks exactly like the same type of crime as the others.”
“Who are the victims?”
“All wealthy businessmen.”
“But none of the wives saw a sign of struggle?”
“None. In fact, all of them said that the husband seemed quite cheerful when he left this morning. There were no signs of the struggle. Everything about the situation points to suicide.”
“So we’ll do the autopsy tomorrow and then take it to the lab? What time is the coroner coming?”
“Five o’clock.”
“Okay. Thanks for checking in, Chief. I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
The End