The dead man’s wife sat in the interview room sobbing softly.
It seemed to her that so little time had passed since the body of her husband was discovered in the garden shed. In fact, it was mid-afternoon, two days later. The forensic people had finished up and a lot more was now known about what had happened. She sat fiddling with the buttons on her coat with trembling fingers.
The detective shuffled things around in front of him, looking decidedly nervous himself. He looked up and forced a smile. “You can relax. I just need to ask you a few questions. We are trying to get a clearer picture of what happened.”
He consulted his notes.
“Can you tell me where you were between the time of seven-thirty and nine on the evening in question?” He looked down at his paperwork again. “Last Tuesday evening, I mean.”
Suddenly her eyes went wild. “What… what do you mean? Where was I? Am I being treated like a suspect? Surely you can’t think that I could possibly have anything to do with my husband’s death? That’s ridiculous!” She went back to sobbing.
The detective suddenly jumped up, knocking his chair over.
“That’s it!” he shouted. “That really is it. I just can’t take it anymore!”
The sniffling stopped, as the woman shrunk back in horror. She was looking nervously around the room as though looking for something or someone who could explain what was going on.
The detective stood with his entire body shaking. His cheeks had turned a dark purple and his watery eyes were bulging.
“I’m just not doing this anymore. Oh! Big deal. Getting promoted to detective… out of uniform… more money. They can keep it. It’s not worth it.” He began to cry.
The woman now sat very still.
Finally, he glowered down at her. “Have you any idea how often I’ve heard that? No. Don’t answer, of course you haven’t. I try to ask the question as nicely as I can, but… but I always get this… ‘Oh! Officer; you can’t possibly think…,’ he said this in a squeaky little voice. “Well, I’m sick of it!” He shook his head in disgust. “Of course I’m asking where you were and what you were doing at the time. Why wouldn’t anyone ask that if they were trying to solve a crime?”
The woman stirred.
“OK I’ll tell you,” she said in a whisper.
“No! I don’t want to know, I’ve had enough. That’s it. I’ve had it!”
By this time the commotion had raised a response and a constable entered the room.
“Everything all right gov?”
“No, it isn’t,” he said. “I’m quitting, or going back on the beat, or… I don’t know what I‘m going to do.” He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. “Whatever it is,” he went on, “it won’t be this!” he said, picking the chair up.
He went home, took a long shower, left a note for his wife asking not to be disturbed and went to bed. They could talk about it tomorrow.
Meanwhile, he’d sleep on it.