“Where the hell have you been?” “There was a body, it could have been a sex toy, but it wasn’t, I touched it.” “What the hell are you talking about!” My exasperated wife was at her wits end. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t let you out on your own.” “But I’m an adult, aren’t I?” She looked at me sceptically. “Twice you were warned by officers for taking scenic photos of the sea, next to a military base! You were thrown out of hospital because you didn’t stop for security.” “They spoke Turkish.” “You’re in Turkey, what do you expect?” I slowly filled in the gaps of what had happed. “Why oh why did you touch the body twice and a sex toy, really.” My wife had visibly aged since marrying me, lines and lines of David wrinkles. “It’s my OCD, I just had to keep checking and now I can’t leave town.” “Good.” “And this house. And I’m a suspect.”
In the morning, she was gone... Leaving a note saying she had gone to the police station to sort it all out. I had just woken up having consumed a few bottles of wine to make me forget everything, finishing with a chorus of ‘Rule Britannia’ then collapsing into bed in a stupor.
My wife had handed over my passport to a police officer as requested. A precaution just in case. Whilst not divulging sensitive information, he had enquired about me. “He worries a lot, officer and well, feels guilty even if he hasn’t done anything.” The officer had raised an eyebrow. “I mean everything has to be 100% perfect, if not he obsesses. It’s his illness, you see.” You’re not making any sense Ms Miller.” “Try asking him a ridiculous question, then you will see.” “I’ll expect him at 4 pm today.”
“Should I go with you?” “No, I’ll be fine.” “You will need a solicitor present.” “No, they will think oh he’s guilty, I’m not falling for that.” “But it’s normal David!” she was shouting as I went to catch the bus, pulling her hair out.
“Hello Mr Miller again, yesterday was some ordeal for you.” I had decided to keep my answers short in case I blurted out I was guilty. “Yes.” “Well, we found finger marks on her neck and a fractured skull…” “I want to be killed by lethal injection, I’m used to needles being a diabetic, not the electric chair. I must have done it.” “Did you?” “No, I’m 100% certain, well 99.9 %.” “The finger marks were not yours Mr Miller, and any DNA found at the scene did not match yours, 100%.” “Oh, that magic number.” “But we do have one problem, you are the only person who appears to have been around the area. I want you to rake your brain, did see anyone or anything suspicious? You are going to be our eyes and ears on the ground, because nobody has come forward with anything and news travels fast around here.” “Yes, of course.” I was a bit taken aback. “Do you recognise this young woman?” I glanced quickly. “No.” “Are you 100% certain?” I looked again painstakingly. “Yes, I’m certain, 90%.” “Let’s see if we can get that percentage up, if you sleep on this for a few days. The press has not been informed of your involvement, and well now help. Not a word to anyone, right?” “Right.”
To be continued on Saturdays...
