The Usual Suspect

by La Shay Trevillion

Detective Lazerus sat diligently at her two-person desk. Usually her partner: Detective Xiare would accompany her but, due to the malfunctions of his three-year-old, he called in to say he would be in much later. Detective Lazerus sat in her office late into the night. Not long after she had gotten bored with the case, her eyes began to give into the sleepiness she tried to ignore. Just then the phone rang.

“How’s it going? You still alive down there?” Xiare asked sounding disturbingly tired and restless himself.

“I’ve been at the Georgio case for nearly four hours…without any interruptions, I need a coffee break before I end up killing someone,” she said playfully.

The pair received the Georgio case about a week ago. Still no lead. No suspect. No motive.

On a bleak Tuesday, the Georgios’ neighbor went next door for their weekly routine. The two husbands worked at the same building, thus reasonably they carpooled every Tuesday when their schedules were the closest. This particular day when Mr. Warner arrived, he was no longer greeted by the warm smile of his co-worker, but instead by a cold crime scene.

The steps that were once a noticeable orange were now a distorted, incurable burgundy. A blood trail was apparent but what caused it was the question lingering in the neighbor’s mind. As Mr. Warner approached the door he noticed footsteps. Fear and shock intruded his mind as he gasped. He hesitated before entering the house. The killer had not been a professional because the neighbor used his shirt to turn the bloody doorknob; nobody had the decency to wipe. The scene was horrific. Laid across the custom made, genuine leather couch was Mrs. Georgio. Her couch that bloomed tiny red roses with black stems, now looked as if someone had over watered them with a thick poisonous, red paste. While her right leg reached for freedom, her last three toes on her right foot rested on the hardwood floor. The other leg relaxed elegantly on the arm of the couch. The angle she was in was not favorable for a lady of her nature. Her face had pain scribbled all over it and pieces of her skin had been erased. The scars were deep as if someone had clawed at least three inches under her skin, and then had run their fingers down her face. Tears of resentment and regret left dried white stains that escaped her eyes and slid to her neck, disappearing under her peach blouse.

“Fuck! What the hell happened here?” Mr. Warner asked the silent walls that held the secret of the murders. Mr. Georgio laid about three feet behind the couch and his hands seemed to have been missing something. Just as Mr.Warner stepped to redirect his thoughts to a more pleasurable sight, he stepped on something. He lifted his foot. Fingers. Mr.Georgio’s fingers had been sliced off. Thin cuts danced over his upper body. His arms were bruised and the indents of hands were around his neck. It was understandable for Mr.Warner to initially guess his friend had been strangled. “Jesus Christ. This cannot be real.” Never the less, no matter how much he didn’t want to accept what his eyes revealed to him it was real. The fingers that were once warm and full of life that were now distraught: real. Mrs. Georgio on her couch that went beyond bringing her comfort: real.

When the detectives arrived, it wasn’t as clear as it had been to Mr.Warner what the cause of death was. Was it head trauma? The man had been lying in multiple pools of blood; a massive amount was from the back of his head. But could this truly be the cause of death, when as they examined the body more accurately they noticed he had a limb missing? The lower half of his leg had been amputated.

“So anything new? How about any witnesses? Did you get anyone to comment on details relevant to the case?” The two had been working on the case with the intentions to work on it together, but it seemed Lazerus did all the work. Detective Xiare figured as long as he asked the questions and she did all the background research for the answer, thus eventually solving the case…they completed the case as a team.

“No hardly. There was an anonymous call about an hour ago. Nothing much to run with though. She just heard glass shattering but thought nothing of it cause the boys were always roughhousing.”

“Did you see if anyone else could give us any facts? No one walking a dog early that morning? Nobody seen anything late the night before?” Detective Xiare asked. He had the annoying yet skillful habit of asking and/or stating the obvious. He should’ve known by now, with Lazerus, nothing slipped her eyes.

“I’ve just been looking at the phone call log. I contacted some family within the area and I've been looking at the photos at the scene,” she said informatively.

“Well you've obviously got a good head start,” he said jokingly. It was times like this when Lazerus was reminded of when she was first assigned to be his partner. She questioned his work ethics. He couldn't think still, after three years of being partners and with over eight years of detective experience under his belt, that this was still a competition. Maybe it was his male ego, daring him to start a never-ending battle. Get over yourself Lazerus thought every time Xiare spoke of solving the case without the unneeded help of her. This time was definitely no different.

“You don't have to worry about anymore head starts from me. I’m calling it a night. I won't try and get a head start for at least two days,” she said seriously.

“Fine with me. Give me ten minutes at the most. I'll meet you outside in the parking lot. Oh wait, do you remember the watch imprint that was left on Mr. Georgio’s arm? Did you ever figure out what happened to the watch?”

“No, I actually haven’t looked into that.”

“Well more fun for me. I’ll do it when I get there.”

“Alright. Everything is laid out for you already. I'll keep it how I had it, you can just put it into the file cabinet when you get ready to go. Make sure you lock it too, lock all the doors and don't forget to turn off all the lights. Oh, and set the alarm,” she said to him as if he was an intern.

“Alright mom,” he said before promptly hanging up.

Detective Lazerus went to her vanilla colored house. Christmas decorations flooded the body of the house and the front door was painted a cupcake pink. She sat contemplating as to whom would’ve possibly wanted to cause such harm to the Georgio’s. Long ago Lazerus accepted the fact that once she adopted a case it was her’s forever…or at least until it was old enough to be left alone. She couldn’t control the urge to think, think, and think about the case. Laid, with her body spread over the couch like a couch cover, her arm hung over the back, while her leg swam to the other end of the couch. One hand rested on the remote and her remaining leg was tucked underneath her. She switched on the T.V. as she was prepared for what blasted through the Sony speakers.

“You Bastard! How could you do this to me? Us? Our kids? What went through your mind? You must have thought you could play this game forever. You’re so slick with it huh? I can’t believe this!” the woman on the screen yelled out, just as a tear departed her burning eyes. It had been yet another rerun of cheaters. Lazerus had begun watching the show about two seasons ago and shockingly found an interest in the way the characters behaved. She loved the way the victim always ended their yelling with how they couldn’t believe it. Lazerus thought, well you had to have believed it somewhat, to suspect he was cheating. She would simply let the thought runaway as she acknowledged every relationship had dilemmas and not every aspect would be smooth, error free. Everything from relationships to work had room for improvement and every now and then some relationships would be totally free of complications. Although she believed this was only made possible due to infatuation and the fear of loneliness consuming the heart.

The show ended within twenty minutes and Lazerus shut off the TV. She sat in the dimly lit room thinking of the show. A young, intelligent artist was four months pregnant. She had been living with her husband for seven months and she had already begun suspecting he was cheating. “Honey, I have to work overtime. I didn’t know, the boss just told me. I know… I’m sorry, I have to go now, can we talk later?” That conversation had became too regular, as almost daily the husband would try that excuse, the woman on the episode told cheaters. Lazerus decided to let the episode rest for she would further analyze it later: It would wait until the morning.

“Detective Xiare speaking.”

“Yes, hello. This is Mr. Argentin. We found foreign fingerprints on the fingers.”

“Good, so do I have my suspect? You have a name for me,” Xiare asked rhetorically.

“The first one is Mr.Chawny Michels…”

“There are multiple prints?” Xiare asked out of surprise.

“The other guy is a Mr. Klyde Warner.”

There was a brief pause.

“Hello?” Argentin said.

“Yeah, I mean yes. Okay thank you. You’re sure of there being two separate prints?” Xiare asked for confirmation.

“When have I ever not been a complete genius at my work?” Xiare laughed for he knew Argentin had never been mistaken.

Xiare returned to his computer. It was now morning, approximately six. The office was vacant. A cup of coffee poised on his desk was his only company. He decided to call Lazerus.

“Chawny Michels?”

“Yes.” Xiare told detective Lazerus.

“Do you have anything on him?”

“Not really. He’s about six feet, wheat colored hair that parties to his lower neck, immaculate teeth and soft innocent eyes. He has no record and he stays on 1928 Perfect People Ave.

“Funny. Too bad this isn’t a joke and your audience is not present. Now get serious.” Lazerus despised when he would make a joke out of very vital pieces of information.

“I guess we need to go talk with him for a bit and see what he knows. I’ll lock up and be there in twenty minutes.

“Sure,” Lazerus uttered.

They had arrived to the canvas of fantasy. An overly manicured neighborhood, where the lawns were flawless, the cars were made out of pure luxury and the houses stood with there heads high to the sky, resting on clouds of confidence and perfection. 739 Captain Lane.

Detective Lazerus knocked on the Army green door. She saw an eye scan, trying to identify outsiders. Followed by the eye, was a voice.

“Who is it?”

“Sir, we are detectives. I’m detective Lazerus and my partner along with me is Detective Xiare. We want to just ask you a few questions.”

“Regarding?” Michels asked.

“Mr. and Mrs. Georgio,” Xiare said in his most manly tone. Lazerus detected Xiare was noticeably serious when talking to another man. Maybe he felt the tougher he sounded the more likely it was he’d be respected. Chawny unlocked the door, swung it open and stopped it mid-way, restricting the access of the detectives’ eyes scoping his house. Several seconds had passed and no one had said a word. Chawny stood there, his baby blue collar had C. Michels imprinted in black bold letters. His scuffed jeans completed his attire all while his black Marc Jacob shoes polished his look. He signaled for the detectives to come inside.

“We won’t be long,” Xiare announced.

“So, what about Tyler?”

“Excuse me?” Lazerus said as she was confused.

“Tyler…Oh. Mr. Georgio. What about him? I no longer care about his personal life.”

“He and his wife were killed about a week ago and we need to ask you questions. Were you and Mr. Warner friends?” Lazerus asked.

“That’s how it started. Friends for fourteen years. Lovers for two. We split after he began his new relationship. But, we got back together again shortly afterward. Then he became distant.”

“Distant? Explain,” Xiare begged, for understanding.

“He would never come over. Said he was tired, didn’t feel like driving. When I offered to pick him up, he said it was okay because he would just fall asleep when he arrived. I told him that was fine, as long as I held him close to me. About two weeks later we split. He claimed he was too busy to maintain a healthy relationship.

“You were aware that he was married?”

“Yes but his wife had nothing to do with us. She would never understand. Anyways, a few days after breaking up, I decided to drive past his house. That’s when I saw him with another guy.”

“What day and time did this occur?”

“Tuesday around five-fifteen, I believe. Actually no, it was five o’clock exactly. I set my phone fifteen minutes fast, so I know. Yes, that was the time.

“Why look at a phone if you have a watch? Detective Xiare asked.

“Umm, I didn’t have it that night. I left it here.”

“When did you get the watch? Lazerus said.

“I don’t quite remember. I got it from a friend.”

“A close friend?”

“Yes, It was a very close friend.”

Lazerus asked Mr. Michels to remove the watch. Just as he did, she mentally noted that the third hole on the strap was the most used. She returned the watch and watched him put it on. She instantly noticed he put it on and used the first hole concluding her theory…the watch belonged to Mr. Georgio.

“Then what? What did you do?”

“I just left, I wasn’t mad, I accepted he moved on. I just went home.”

“Anybody to say you were here that night?”

“Yea. My boyfriend, Klyde. He spent the night the whole week.”

“Okay. Thank you. We’ll be in contact,” said Xiare.

Mr. Warner was later taken to the station for questioning and it was then that he admitted to being in a relationship with Michels. He hadn’t known that Tyler and Michels dated and he sat in silence as the detectives took turns telling him exactly what they were told. “Now it makes sense. When Chawny and I first got together we discussed our ex’s. He said he never discovered who his ex was cheating on him with. He told me how he stopped by his house, but I had no idea he was speaking of Mr. Georgio. I remember that night…I did see his car actually, just outside the house. A midnight blue, corvette with the lights off. I had never seen it on the block but I couldn’t tell if someone had been inside the car.” The night of the murder, Klyde had been away to be of aid to his sickly mother. When the detectives arrived to take Michels into custody…he was not there.

An envelope was found on the counter labeled: My Deepest Regrets.

I never wanted to cause you pain. Your heart guided me to love, and then you began to change. You wife had nothing to do with my complaints but she needed to be put away. Your sweet hands. Those fingers that belonged to my thighs, left me so you could be with another guy. Your legs you used to walk out of my life. That head of yours filled with lies. The cuts across your body symbolize the cuts that shield my heart. Bleeding gradually, I have too many cuts and I’m no longer me, now I’m heartless with no identity. Your wife’s face scratched, I did it to ease the pain. A little extra frosting to the cake. Shame, shame, nothing but shame. I lived for you, now that you’re gone there’s no purpose. I’m on my way to be with you in heaven to let our souls forever be in love.

P.S. The Usual Suspect: The jealous, ex-lover. The one who gained satisfaction with returning the favor of ruining other’s lives, all in the name of a broken heart.