Confessions of a Murder Suspect

43

I must have finally fallen asleep, because I was totally confused when I woke up to the blare of a public-address system.

It was morning. And I was still in jail.

I sat up and scrubbed my face with my hands, then stretched my eyes wide open a couple of times.

Soon, Philippe would be coming to take me to my arraignment. I would face a judge, and I would be asked to say whether I was guilty or not, and the judge would determine if I would be tried for the murder of my parents.

I was taken to an interview room after breakfast—scrambled powdered eggs—had been served. Philippe arrived and greeted me with a shaky smile on his usually confident and handsome face.

He said, “The police have nothing on you, except that you were home when your parents were killed. The prints on the bottle are smudged, and the toxin is an unknown chemical that doesn’t show up in the poison database.”

“Are you getting me out of here, Philippe?”

“I talked to the DA. He doesn’t like the obstruction charge. He thinks you could be found not guilty, and he’d rather try you for murder if the cops can put together a convincing case. So the DA told the cops to let you go.”

I could hardly breathe. I said, “And my brothers?”

“They’re being released, too, but I have to warn you, Tandy: The police won’t give up. In fact, they’re going to focus almost exclusively on those of you who were inside the apartment when your parents were killed.”