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It was a tiny little interrogation room. One chair. One card table. She was sure she was not in there long, but it seemed forever and a week before anyone came in.
The man who entered looked as though he literally walked with the weight of authority. He wore a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, collar unbuttoned. He slapped a folder on the card table in front of her.
“Can you tell me what is going on?” L C Asked.
He held his hand up. “I’ll ask the questions.”
L C Nodded meekly, biting her lower lip.
“Have your rights been read to you?”
“Yes. Outside. But he didn’t ask me anything.”
“Do you understand those rights?”
“Well yes, of course. Am I being charged with being stupid?”
“Being flippant will not help your case.”
“What am I being charged with? What is my case?”
“Do you want me to read you your rights again or do you agree you fully understand them?”
L C Sighed. “I told you I understand them.”
He fished a photograph out of the folder, pushed it across to L C “Tell me about this man.” She looked at the picture. It was an eight by ten. The face had little to distinguish it. Freshly scrubbed. Eyes closed. Hair not combed.
“What about him?”
“What is his name? What is your relationship to him.”
“I don’t know his name. I don’t have any relationship to him.” She kept looking at the picture trying to remember anyone who looked like that in real life. The longer she looked at him the more certain she became she had never seen him before.
“So you deny knowing this man.”
“I don’t recognize him.”
“Let me refresh your memory. He is your fiance. You spent the weekend in his cabin with him.”
“That’s not my fiance. I spent the weekend, well, part of it anyway, with my fiance in his cabin. This isn’t him.”
“This is not your fiance. Yet you carried on with him in Sternhouser’s market in such a disgusting display the owner threw you out and told you never to return. Do I have that part right?”
“Is this that guy? He doesn’t look like him. He followed me around the store. I wasn’t ‘carrying on’ with him.”
“I suppose you don’t recognize this either?” From somewhere he pulled out a revolver. Showed it to L C
“It looks just like the one in my fiancee’s cabin. It was in a wooden box under some cabinet thing.”
“Your fiancée’s gun. In your fiancee’s cabin. But you claim you do not know your fiancee. Or do you just have a habit of carrying on with strange men you don’t know in grocery stores?”
“It wasn’t like…”
A knock on the door interrupted her.
The policeman stood up. “Come in.”
The Langlin’s lawyer entered. He looked from the policeman to L C And back. “What is my client charged with?”
“Nothing much. Lying to a police officer. Resisting arrest. International flight to avoid prosecution. That ought to hold her for a while.” Holding the revolver in plain sight the policeman left the room.
“I was under the impression Mr. Langlin instructed you not to say anything until I arrived.”
“I only told him the truth.”
“Apparently you told him enough of it to get yourself into serious trouble, young lady.”
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