Red Blade

Helena was bad. Some even described her as evil. In the seventh grade she beat the living hell out of a boy for calling her stupid. The boy bled so much, he was in the hospital for two weeks. Today, she rides a black and purple Harley with silver flames on each side. She spends most of her time sitting in front of the bar with broken peanut shells lining the counter tops and light sounds of the fluorescent lit jukebox playing in her ear at Tracie's Bar. She gets drunk, loud and violent.

***

Detective Gordon stopped near the dirt path leading to the tattered screen door of a pale blue house with chipped paint. As he walked into the little house, a bald man was sitting on the couch, with his face in his lap. “Detective Gordon, this is Mr. Henry Durston, Kristy's father,” an agent said. Henry was in a sweaty wife beater and brown trousers. He reached out his Rolex wrist to shake hands. Nearby on a table was a half full bottle of Heineken beer. “Nice to meet you Detective Gordon,” said Mr. Durston.

***

"I didn't do shit!" Helena screamed.

Detective Gordon paced in front of her. He began to ruffle her feathers. She slammed her hands on the table, then grabbed a silver flip lighter and a pack of cigarettes from the zipper breast pocket of her leather jacket.

"We found tracks leading to and from the house. Motorcycle tracks. Tracks that match a black and purple Harley Helena." She leaned in forward, close to the detective, and blew smoke in his face.

"Why the fuck would I kill my sister?" The detective jerked back.

" Got sick of your sister giving you demands. Telling you when and where and what time to be home. You couldn't stand it! Wanted to be in control of yourself. You were tired of her pressuring you to get a job, to stop drinking. So you killed her, with that switch blade of yours. Came to her house drunk and she was yelling at you. You wanted her to listen, needed her to understand you, but she didn't. So you killed her!" Detective Gordon threw a folder on the table and pictures of a bloody corpse peeked out of the flaps. Helena quickly turned her head.

"Fuck you!"

"You killed her! You snapped. Just like that night you spent in jail for assaulting her Helena."

"I didn't mean to hurt her,I was defending her!"

***

Earlier that day Detective Gordon had collected evidence from the crime scene. His prime suspect was Helena Durston. "Here's the body, through here, in the kitchen," a brown haired man waved for Gordon to follow him past the dining room. In bright bold yellow the letters CSU were printed on his blue jacket. "How long has she been here?" Gordon asked.

"About nine hours detective. Name’s Kristy Durston."

A woman in about her twenties lay on the black and white kitchen floor of 423 Crescent Rd. There was blood everywhere. In the mid section of her dress especially. It was hard to tell because the dress itself was red, with pink magnolias on it. She had bruises on her face and wrists. Her blonde hair was stained from the blood. Detective Gordon examined the woman more closely. A tiny glint of gold shined on her hand.

***

As he sat at his desk he reviewed all of the factors carefully.

1) Motorcycle tracks.

Helena:2008 Dyna low rider Harley-Davidson 17 inch rear tires

2)Cigarette pack.

Helena: Marlboro Lights

3)Peanut shells.

Helena: Tracie's Bar Eastern Lake view and Thurnwood

4)Switch blade.

Helena: Cold steel Ti-lite 4"

Gordon's eyes were pressing the page. It all added up. Kristy Durston had died from a brutal stabbing, in her own kitchen. He rubbed his face repeatedly and reached for his mug of coffee. Ten years he worked the cases in the Special Victims Unit of the LVPD. As he opened his desk to search for a pen, he peered at a small piece of newspaper:

Detective Robert Gordon Killed at the Scene of Homicide.

It had been over five years since his father's death. The phone rang.

"Detective Gordon?" He gripped the phone and listened carefully to the other end.

"What kind of news?"

"Urgent news?"

"Ok, I’m coming to the mortuary."

"I'll be right down,” Gordon hung up the phone.

He picked up his badge and coat, and glanced at the Durston file. There was a picture of a lifeless being on his desk. He placed his hat securely on his head and walked out.

***

He brought in Helena Durston for questioning the next day, along with Mr. Henry Durston, to make sure her story checked out. Gordon motioned for both of them to sit in the two hard chairs right across from him,"Have a seat." She still had that face and that same greasy forehead. Helena Durston was a tough one to crack. She took out a cigarette and light. "Mr. Durston, you lived with Kristy Durston, correct?" he asked.

"Yes sir," Mr. Durston replied.

"That night, on November 4, 2000 you were there when Helena got arrested?" Gordon looked curiously at the balding man in front of him.

"I was the one who called it in!" Mr. Durston exclaimed.

"Yea and you lied you son of a bitch!!! You know I didn’t punch her on purpose." Helena reached across the table.

"Mr. Durston, how was your relationship with Kristy?"Gordon inquired. He flicked his eyelids down and stared at the ashes on the table. He started fiddling his thumbs then answered the question,

"Well, she was my daughter I loved her. Did my best to protect her. That was my job." His eyes welled up with tears.

"I can’t take this shit anymore!" Helena threw the chair from under her and stormed out of the interrogation room.

"Helena always was the one who pushed me away, but Kristy, she was daddy’s little girl," Durston explained.

"That’s a nice watch you got." Gordon said.

"Why thank you detective..."

"Gordon. Can I have a better look at it?" he walked closer to Mr. Durston .

"Why sure." Mr. Durston lifted his wrist toward the light and he examined the gold Rolex.

"You’re a carpenter correct?" he asked.

He nodded,"Yes I am. I made all of our furniture."

"Must be beautiful work." Gordon insisted.

"Yes indeed. You have to be very skilled." Durston replied.

"You every get hurt?" Detective Gordon asked.

"Rarely." Detective Gordon walked backed over to his seat and sat down across from the old man.

"Mr. Durston, Kristy was pregnant." His eyes went huge. He stared blankly for a while.

***

"Detective Gordon come on in," the coroner signaled him to enter the room where Kristy’s autopsy took place. "The knife used to kill Kristy was definitely a switch blade, steel. The wounds were 4" inches suggesting the length of the blade. There was a struggle. Kristy fought with the killer, which explains the large bruise on her face and those on her wrists and arms." the coroner explained.

"Any hair particles...?" Gordon asked.

"I found traces of foreign blood on her fingertips. Apparently she scratched the killer." the coroner replied.

"I also ran the DNA sample. The test was an identical match. To the foreign blood, and the baby."

***

"I didn’t get it at first. Helena said she was defending Kristy. Protecting her. There was no doubt in my mind that she killed her sister.” Detective Gordon positioned himself in the chair directly across from Henry Durston. “The tracks, cigarettes, the knife, we have a lot of evidence that pointed in her direction...” “Good.” Mr. Durston lowered his eyes, and lifted the sleeves of his shirt.

“Mr. Durston, do you know who the father of her child is?” the Detective asked. Mr. Durston rubbed his bald head, then tapped his fingertips against the steel table. Detective Gordon pulled out a plastic bag and set it in front of Mr. Durston. Inside was a small piece of gold.

“What's this?” Mr. Durston asked.

“You got mad. Kristy told you that she was going to the police.”

“Yea, because of Helena...”

“ That’s how you got that pretty little scar on your wrist.”

“I nicked myself while I was carving a chair,”Detective Gordon lifted the plastic bag,"This, is a piece of gold. From a watch. You saw Helena’s knife on the counter.”

"I was drunk! I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t let her have that child. I couldn’t let her expose me. I couldn’t let her expose us,” Mr. Durston pleaded.

“You got her pregnant. You raped your daughter! "

***

Detective Gordon sat down next to Helena. He watched the officer cuff Mr. Durston and escort him out of the interrogation room. "How come you didn’t tell me?" Gordon asked.

" That night on November 4, the old bastard was drunk. He came downstairs and said he wanted to talk. We ended up fighting. Wasn't any different from those macho motherfuckers down at the bar. Kristy tried to stop us, got in the way and caught a punch. Ended up in that shit hole, for nothing. They called it assault."

Gordon turned towards Helena,"You were there."

"I left a half an hour before it took place. I fought with him, that’s why you found all that shit everywhere. I was always fighting. I had to be strong for myself and for Kristy. That shouldn’t of been have in that kitchen bleeding."

"It’s not your fault Helena," Gordon reassured her.

“That should have been him on the floor, bleeding.”

***

Clark County Courtroom

Las Vegas, Nevada

Henry Durston vs. State of Nevada

Judge Hazel Lanson Presiding

“Your honor I'd like to request a brief recess,” said the attorney. The judge banged her gavel, “Recess granted, we will resume in three hours.” Henry Durston walked out of the courtroom and headed to the bathroom. "Your doing great Detective Gordon," the attorney pat the detective on the shoulder, and walked past him. "Oh my god!!! Someone help!!!" A short woman stormed into the courtroom screaming. "He's bleeding everywhere!!!"

Detective Gordon ran into the lobby. Helena Durston stood smoking a cigarette. Next to her right boot, was Mr. Henry Durston's head. He was in a pool of blood and it was seeping through his white shirt. A knife lay on his chest next to his purple tie. The blade was covered in red. Helena Durston blew smoke, and dropped the lit butt next to the blade.