Ella knew all about that. Lots of things she wished she’d forget, she couldn’t. Not even tragic things, just minor things like a random stranger’s birth date. “You have a photographic memory?” she asked. She’d never met anyone else with one before.
“Not exactly. I just have a compulsion to commit every detail I come across to memory. I see my brain as a filing cabinet that constantly grows, even when I don’t want it to.”
Ella wanted to go on, but Byford took the lead. “So, you must be familiar with a gentleman named Barry Windham. I believe he retired a few years ago, but he worked at Quanta for a while.”
“Barry,” Aleister smiled. “He was my favorite. He treated me like a son.”
Ella and Byford shared the same expression, a hybrid of suspicion and uncertainty. Each one waited for the other to go in with the killing blow. Byford took charge again. He reached down under the table, pulled out a brown folder and opened it up. He slid a crime scene photo across to the suspect.
“Did he look like this when you knew him?” Byford asked.
Aleister eyed the picture with bewilderment at first. Ella watched him closely for any signs of guilt or detachment or familiarity. The person who committed the murder would react strongly to it, especially considering mistakes were made at the scene. Presenting crime scene photos to suspects was presenting them a challenge.
But this suspect reacted like no other she’d seen before. Aleister Black planted his head on the interrogation room table and began to cry. His sobbing began lightly at first, then grew into violent moans not unlike that of a toddler who’d just broken his best toy.
“Mr. Black, why are you upset?” Byford asked.
Aleister cried for another full minute before sitting back in his chair and shutting his eyes tightly. “He’s dead. I can’t believe he’s dead,” Aleister called.
“You knew Mr. Windham, then?” Ella asked. “Please tell us the truth, Aleister. This is very important.”
Aleister wiped his face with his sleeve, drenching his arm in various bodily fluids. “I knew Barry very well. He was so good to me. A lot of people at work make fun of me, but Barry was so kind. He always helped me when I needed it. He wanted to train me as an electrician to get me out of the warehouse, but…” Aleister held up his hands for a moment. His right hand twitched violently. “I can’t do something like that with my condition.”
He cried again, more forcefully this time, shaking his head as though it might undo the reality of Barry’s death. His intense cries filled the room and Ella’s eardrums, and by the look on Byford’s face, even he was beginning to doubt this man’s guilt.
“Aleister, we don’t think you did this,” Ella said. Byford went to interject but Ella quickly grabbed his arm in a trust me motion. “Well, to be clear, I don’t think you did this.”
The declaration did nothing to cease the suspect’s tears. They came in floods, confirming to Ella that the display in front of her was one of genuine emotion. As far as she was concerned, Aleister Black wasn’t their killer. The realization was both disappointing and welcome. This man had enough hardships without being a suspected murderer too.
“Don’t you?” he asked finally.
“No. But you need to tell us where you were on the nights of these people’s deaths, okay?”
“I can do that,” he said between heavy breaths.
“April 27, April 30 and May 1. Between midnight and one am on all of them. Can you do that?”
“At home. On all of them. I promise.”
“Can anyone verify that?” asked Ella.
Aleister shook his head as more tears welled up. “No. I live alone. But I might have some gaming logs that prove I was online. Does that count?”
The truth was that it would be a tricky sell in a court of law, but it was better than nothing. “Yes, it would. Anything you have would be great.”
“I’ll get them. I will. Please catch whoever did this to Barry.”
“Trust us,” Ella said. “We’re sorry you had to find out this way. We’re going to leave you in the hands of some other officers now. They’ll get you out of here. Will you be okay?”
Aleister looked her in the eye and nodded silently. His crying stopped when he realized his ordeal was coming to an end.
“If you need anything, call the NDPD and ask for Agent Dark, alright?”
The agents left the room and joined Sheriff Hunter on the other side. Ella breathed a heavy sigh, feeling like she’d just stepped out of a boxing ring with a world champion. These interviews chipped away at your soul, she thought. Every time you saw an innocent person grieve, it killed you a little more on the inside.
“If he’s an actor, he’s a damn good one,” the sheriff said.
“I don’t think he did this,” added Byford. “At first I thought he was our guy, but he’s not capable of this. There’s no killer instinct there. Just a troubled kid.”
Ella rested her forehead against the two-way mirror, observing the broken man inside. She thought about her own problems and wondered how they compared to his. This guy was a loner, mentally struggling and now a murder suspect. To top it off, he’d just found one of the few people who treated him right was dead. Which one of them had it worse, she thought. Him or her?
“Ella, are you alright?” asked Byford. He came up beside her and put his hand on her shoulder. As far as she could remember, it was the first physical contact they’d had.
“Been better, but thank you for asking. Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. Why don’t you go grab breakfast or something? You look like you need a break.”
She wasn’t hungry, but a break was welcome. “Good idea. Do you want anything?”
“No, I’m fine. Take your time.”
Byford and Hunter took their leave. Two officers unlocked the interrogation room and walked inside. Once again, Aleister cowered like he was about to be tortured by the Spanish Inquisition. Ella suddenly thought of Mia and wondered how she’d have reacted to this suspect. Would she have followed the circumstantial evidence, or would she have analyzed Aleister’s outburst of emotion and come to the same conclusion she had?
No, Ella laughed to herself. It wouldn’t have gone down that way at all. If Ella knew Mia, and she believed she did, Mia would have known the guy was innocent from the moment she laid eyes on him.
No one with trembling hands like that could make the accurate incisions their killer did.
***
After an hour-long video call with the director, Mia Ripley packed up her things in her Manhattan office and prepared to head home. Melissa, having barely said a word since their ordeal at the gas station, did the same at a much slower pace. Their suspects had been caught by local police.
The director had spent the majority of their call speaking through the cracks in his fingertips. He’d heard about the disaster before Mia even had a chance to tell him; something that always riled Edis up no matter the situation. He’d chewed the agents out like cheap tobacco and even left Melissa in tears. Mia, not so much. She’d seen it all before, but her penalty had been more than she expected: two weeks suspension. In reality, Mia hadn’t done a whole lot wrong, but Melissa’s actions were hers to own.