RED UMBRELLA: FIRST KILL(FINALE) – A MYSTERY SHORT STORY TO KEEP YOU ON EDGE
“Mrs. Lydia Benson,” a mysterious woman called, entering the interrogation chamber where I sat. “I am your legal counsel and thus I offer you this simple advice: when the forthcoming piece-of-trash individuals enter, do all you can to remain silent. Feign ignorance if you must and nod in assent. Is this clear?”
“How…how did you know my name?” I asked, my eyes still brimming with tears.
“I have no time for explanations,” she whispered urgently. “You are experiencing the chameleon effect. Simply respond with ‘we are clear’…are we understood?”
“Yes…yes,” I nodded hastily rethinking what the “chameleon effect” was.
“Excellent,” she smiled enigmatically but before she could depart, the door burst open and I saw to my left, two formidable chiefs of the investigation department as well as my partner, Ramsey.
“Have you concluded your meeting with your client, Rosa?” one of the chief detectives inquired, her brow furrowed in severity.
“It depends on whatever weighty statement you utter next, Miss Laine,” she retorted with audacity.
I was perplexed, unsure how to proceed but she regarded me with assurance, and I nodded in compliance.
“Farewell, Lydia,” she departed carrying her dark briefcase, leaving me behind with a multitude of unanswered questions.
“Let us commence,” the other detective, Mr. Baldwin, cleared his throat. “I am Baldwin by name and this as you have heard earlier is Miss Laine. Be warned Mrs. Benson, a single falsehood from you and the government would expunge you from existence. Is this understood?”, he barked.
“Yes”, I swallowed hard.
“Do not be alarmed. Your partner Ramsey is here to assure you of our benevolent intentions, Lydia… or should I say, Martha Stein?” Miss Laine gleamed, her eyes glinting with accusations.
“Martha?” I repeated, stunned.
“Indeed,….Martha,” she reaffirmed, her countenance cold and unyielding. “We possess your dossier and I must say your impressive file which holds a baffling tally of victims but I’m surprised that you wished to be caught.”
“Forgive me,” I pleaded, tears streaming down my face once more. “You must have mistaken me for another. I am no serial killer, merely the bereaved ex-wife of a building engineer whose family has been brutally murdered.”
Mr. Baldwin’s expression remained skeptical. “Then please explain these photographs extracted from your CCTV footage, Mrs. Lydia. How come your face appears on every single one.”
He then presented to the desk sixteen damning images, each depicting my face, my hands, and the gruesome crimes.
“You strangled and squashed your ex husband’s five year old and buried him in your clothes. You, a self acclaimed detective of this department. Please we are all ears…… explain all this to us.”
My eyes widened in horror as I beheld the irrefutable evidence.
“Impossible!” I gasped, my hands trembling uncontrollably. The weapons, the looks, the fingerprints – all were mine. No words could convey my shock, my bewilderment.
“Do not be fooled Martha,” Laine interjected, her voice devoid of empathy. “No lawyer, no matter how skilled can save you from our justice. You will face execution within days of your trial. Your only hope lies in your cooperation with us.”
“But I am no killer!” I protested, my mouth agape as tears flooded the photographs.
“Martha Stein,” Mr. Baldwin called with a soft tone. “We can offer you salvation from this hellhole. We acknowledge Sarah’s framing in all this and require only your cooperation…….”
“How?” I asked, my voice trembling with fear. “How can I help you?”
“Excuse us, Ramsey,” Miss Laine directed and my partner surprisingly departed without a word or a glance in my direction.
“Yes ma’am,” he replied, leaving the interrogation chamber.
“Very well,” Mr. Baldwin coughed amiss, deactivating the microphone that connected them to the records. “On behalf of the police department and the government, we shall absolve you of all charges if you eliminate your partner, Ramsey Crawford.”
“What?” I exclaimed aghast.
“Shut your mouth and sit,” Laine cautioned, standing against me. “Do you desire freedom or not?…..The choice is yours.”
“I wish to be held accountable for my crimes,” I responded with conviction. “Death is inevitable regardless.”
“Excellent,” she smiled, turning to her partner with a chuckle. “Your hell, I promise will be worse than death.”
“So be it”, I voiced out. “Killing my partner cannot be on my conscience and I am no Martha Stein,” I declared, my eyes blazing with indignation.
“Say that to your dead daughter,” Baldwin sneered, his grin twisted.
“You have no idea, do you?” he continued. “Do you believe yourself to be her killer? We were present before you blacked out, Martha. We slaughtered her like a sack of grain.”
“Enough!” I cried, tearing one part of the handcuffs from the desk. “Do not utter my daughter’s name again, you filthy animal.”
“Poor Sarah,” Laine persisted, her voice dripping with malice. “Soon dear, you’ll discover that we are your sole saviours in this game. It is us or nothing. Ramsey is but a minor obstacle we can eliminate ourselves. You, on the other hand will rot from a rope.”
“Then you have no idea who I am,” I guffawed, a cold mirthless sound as I sat back comfortably. “If what you claim I did to my husband and his new family is true, then imagine what I shall do to both of you.”
“We can’t wait”, Baldwin got up to pack his files but my hands touched down on the last one,…..no handcuffs in sight.
“I am Martha bloody Stein”, I grinned.
