Precisely 1000-word short-story fiction adventure-mysteries of Inspector Pascal INSPECTOR PASCAL MYSTERIES 1000
#2 The Winery Confession ©2016-2023 T.K. Naliaka “I can’t take it anymore! I’m the one who killed Arturo!” He turned to look at her. Behind her Rodriguez leaned forward, “Maria! Are you crazy?” Her hands tightly gripped the armrests of her chair as she stared at him. “Inspector Pascal, you can stop pretending that’s not the reason you came here!” Her brown eyes were wide and strained and her mouth twisted bitterly as she cried. “I killed him!” Pascal frowned as he set the dark bottle of port wine on the wide, ornately-carved oak desk. He glanced at Sergeant Braque standing by the door. The big, broad-shouldered uniformed policeman unclasped his hands from behind his back and returned to his surveillance of the group sitting in the expansive pale-oak paneled office. Pascal considered the woman, about forty years old with dyed black hair to hide her graying streaks, her makeup a bit too heavy and her blue shirt, black pants and high heels a bit too young for her age. He looked at the four others there, a couple huddled together, the wide-eyed woman in a blue housekeeper’s uniform, the vineyard’s owner’s teenage son, Ernesto, slim and pale, sullenly hunched in his chair, heavy-set Rodriguez in his black silk shirt and black trousers, then back to her. “All right… why?” She stared at him, then she stammered. “I-I h-hated him!” Ernesto glanced over at her with anger plain on his face, but he said nothing. The inspector nodded thoughtfully. They watched him, a trim man about six feet tall, with neatly-cropped light brown hair and hazel eyes as he opened his light grey suit jacket slightly, slipped his hand inside and extracted his black notebook. He patted his other pockets for a moment to find his pen. All eyes were locked on him as he carefully opened the small notebook, thumbed to a blank page and clicked his pen. “Go ahead.” Maria’s face was pale with two red spots burning high on her cheeks. “That’s it! I killed him!” Pascal began writing. Pausing, he raised his pen slightly. “I am obligated to mention that anything you say right now will be used against you in a court of law. Many people later regret blurting statements to police that their lawyers would have advised them not to mention.” She flushed. “I don’t care!” He spoke up as he wrote. “Sergeant Braque, can you witness her statement?” Across the room, Braque nodded, “I can, sir.” “The lawyers are going to want your signature on that.” Braque replied, “Of course, sir.” Pascal crossed over to him and held out the pad. Braque read, then signed Pascal’s note, “All ready for you, sir.” “Thank you, Sergeant.” Pascal went back to pace slowly in front of them. “When did you kill the victim?” She blinked, breathing heavily. “Ahh…” Rodríguez spoke up. “He didn’t show up for the morning field inspection.” Pascal glanced at him. “Ah!” He asked her, “Sometime during the night?” She blinked, then nodded,” Yes!” Pascal pivoted by the big glass veranda doors to pace back in front of them as he wrote. “About what time was that?” She cast about with wide eyes, “Ah…” “After midnight?” She nodded, “Yes!” “Around one a.m. or… more like 3 a.m.?” She frowned, “Ah…” “Two… perhaps two-thirty?” Rodriguez shook his head. “The crews worked late cleaning equipment. He always locked up, no matter what time.” Pascal asked him, “When did you see him last?” “He closed up at 3:15.” Pascal paused. “Sir, I must mention that everything you say will be used by prosecutors to validate her confession.” Rodriguez persisted, “3:15.” Pascal was soothing. “It’s very stressful; these are extreme circumstances, so you might feel remorse later reflecting her witnessing that you gave the prosecution the keys to conviction. If you’d prefer, you can make a private statement.” Rodriguez shook his head, “No, Inspector. The truth is too important.” Pascal agreed, “Yes, it is. When was the body discovered?” Rodriguez gestured with his chin towards the couple. “Jorge’s wife found it – when she opened the office to clean.” Pascal glanced at the bucket of water and cloths set near the glass veranda doors. Jorge gave his nervous wife a squeeze. Pascal directed his gaze to her. “At what time was that?” Ernesto glared with disgust at Pascal. The woman stammered, “E-e-eight?” Maria cried out. “It doesn’t matter! I did it!!” Pascal was very conciliatory. “A voluntary confession still requires that we corroborate information. Evidence gets moved, recollections fade.” Pausing by the big veranda doors, he viewed long rows of green vines stretching for miles. Pascal peered skyward and frowned thoughtfully as he turned around to pace back. “Maria, what provoked you to ki…” They all gasped and started as Pascal’s right foot caught against the full bucket. The bucket sloshed, he stumbled against the desk. Toppled, the wine bottle spun across the oak top towards the couple. Pascal lunged to catch it. Jorges ducked and flung his arm up into an iron grip; his knife thudded to the carpet and he dropped like a stone when Pascal cracked him aside the head with the bottle. Pascal straightened. They were staring at him, Maria, the cringing housekeeper, Ernesto. Maria cried out with fright when a heavy hand dropped on her shoulder. “I got him ma’am. It’s all right, now.” She twisted around to look up at Sergeant Braque standing behind her with Rodriguez out cold at his feet. Braque picked up Rodriguez’s pistol, removed the full clip and chambered round, then slipped them into his jacket pocket. Pascal read the label, then raised the wine bottle appreciatively, “My compliments, Sergeant!” “Just following your instructions, sir!” Ernesto propelled himself out of his chair into the arms of his weeping mother. Snatching up Pascal’s fallen notepad Ernesto read Pascal’s message to Braque with astonishment. “You knew all along!” Pascal gave him a wry glance as Braque snapped handcuffs on the two men. “I didn’t. We stopped by as customers. Your mother’s quick thinking saved us all.” ©2016-2023 T.K. Naliaka, All rights reserved. TipTop duTop Comments are closed.
|
AuthorT.K. Naliaka Archives
November 2022
Categories |
When it looks like an awesome daydream, but it's real! for all ages
TIPTOPduTOP ©2017-2023 all rights reserved
TIPTOPduTOP ©2017-2023 all rights reserved
Site powered by Weebly. Managed by Dotster