No Clues or Leads

“Ok, Mr. Tyler,” sighed the investigator, he was getting very weary of this case. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

                A young man sat opposite of the investigator in the white room. He was about average height, with a thin face, mousy hair, and light blue eyes. From what the investigator could tell, he wasn’t at all shaken up from the events that had passed through his life in the past week. His air of superiority was almost nauseating. No wonder he kept his nose high up in the air; to keep from having to smell it.

                “I don’t know what more you want from me, sir,” he replied. “The victim was in my geology class. I thought she was annoying, and the teacher liked to exploit that. I tried not to have anything to do with her.”

                “You said the teacher liked to exploit your dislike of the victim?” asked the inspector.

                “Yes,” Tyler was tired was being here, he wasn’t going to be worth anything pretty soon.

                “How?” asked the inspector, he had to juice him like an orange. Get all the information he could before the trail dried up. This mad man had no place in this society, or this life for that matter.

                “He would always try and pair the two of us up for lab assignments, or when he would ask a question, he would try to push the two of us into a debate,” the boy scoffed. “I hated that class.”
                “But,” asked the inspector, “Doesn’t that promote active learning?”

                “Hey man,” said the boy. “I was just there for the credits. I don’t actually give a shit about geology.”

                “You got an A in the class,” said the inspector.

                “And?” he asked.

                “Never mind,” the investigator rubbed his eyes. This was the fourth interview he had conducted today. He hated this part of the job. Why couldn’t he just be out on the streets looking for clues? Beating the shit out of the creep downstairs? Running fingerprints? Anything besides this.

                “Take me back to the day of the abduction,” said the investigator.

                “Well,” the boys took a drink of his coke. “There’s not much to tell. We had just started class and this man in a suit walked in. He asked to speak with her in the hallway. And then she was gone. Totally uneventful. No one thought any more of it.”

                “Ok,” said the inspector. “You my leave.”

                “Thank you,” was the reply, and within seconds the youth was out the door.

                The inspector put his elbows on the table and cupped his face in his hands. Fuck you, college career advisor. You told me nothing about having to do several interviews. Talking to so many people. So many stupid people. And I still have to go to the nursing home and talk to the grandma. He slammed his fist on the table and pushed his chair out to leave. He just wanted this case to be over. He had the confession. He had the body. He had the motive. Just no evidence.

                He killed her in an apartment that he didn’t belong in, with weapons that he didn’t own. He didn’t leave any DNA at the scene. No witnesses of the abduction, rape, or murder.

                If it weren’t for the terrified young couple that found the victim’s body in their apartment, or the fact that an incredibly intoxicated man stumbling around on the sidewalk below shouting out for the world to hear that he killed the girl, the inspector would have nothing to go on. The only physical lead that was actually present was the evidence of stalking found in his apartment. He was fully confident that he could get him with a jury on the stalking and confession. But a death sentence? Never. The best thing that could happen would be if the shrink could get him locked up in a loony bin for the rest of his life. Things were not looking very bright. Not at all.

                He walked out of the interview room and down the hall into the observation room. It was empty, of course. Everyone else had better things to do, than listen in on some mediocre interview with some mediocre kid. God. This was the pits.

                He walked over the table where he had laid out his notes before each session. The teacher, the best friend, the neighbor, and the classmate.

                He had learned a lot about the victim tonight. She was an orphan who grew up with her grandmother, according to the best friend. She was great in school, according to the classmate and the teacher. The neighbor said she would always be willing to help out. From old pictures, she was a very attractive young lady. He autopsy on the other hand, didn’t really help him out as much.

                He neatly stacked all of his notes together and placed them in his folder and crammed it in his already over stuffed backpack. He had a nice briefcase at one point, but the amount of paperwork that he had to cart around on a regular basis forced him to convert to a backpack. It felt like he was back in school. He slung the fifty pound sack on his back and walked back across the room. He checked his watch, 7:45pm. There was no time to see the grandma tonight. He flipped the switch and walked back into the hallway. He had to get back to the shrink and report on his findings.

                That was very unconventional, to team up with a psychologist. However, if he wanted to make sure that the creature that they had locked up downstairs was headed to death row, he had no other choice. They had to get rid of him. Even if it was the last thing they ever did. Mr. Brooks will never hurt anyone, ever again.