I pulled up to the crime scene about ten minutes after I left. It was a somewhat pleasant drive, even if I knew where I was going.
When I pulled up, Herman was talking to a woman. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She was a beautiful woman. That was probably one of the first things I noticed as I parked my car on the side of the road. That and that she was crying. Now---don't judge me. I may have had a daughter, but that doesn't mean I was married. She was just my girlfriend. Usually, when a guy gets a girl pregnant, he's the one who ditches and you never hear from again. Not in my case. In my case, it was the opposite. She ditched. You must wonder what kind of a heartless woman would do that. I'm always asking myself the same thing.
"Marc!" Herman called to me, looking away from his pretty little friend.
I nodded to him. "What do we got?"
"A Mr. Ezra Himmelstein was found dead about three hours ago," he said casually, flipping out his notebook. "This pretty lady right here is Miss Rebekah Himmelstein," he motioned to her, but didn't look at her.
I nodded. "Alright then. Can I take a look around the crime scene?"
"Yes, I believe you can." Herman smiled at me.
I stared blankly at him. "Why are you smiling?"
Herman's smile vanished. "What---I was smiling?"
I sighed. "I don't want to know what goes through your head, Clyde." I walked away from him and towards the steps that led up to the house. I quickly ran up the steps and walked through the open door. This was where it got messy. Blood stains covered the ground surrounding the body. The crowd of policemen surrounding the body only made the scene seem that much more gruesome.
I bent down and examined the dead guy. He was in his mid-to-late-forties. He had short gray hair, a long (bent) nose, and some of his teeth were missing. It seemed like the main injury was on his head, which had a large gash in it. The gash wasn't jagged, it seemed to be in one particular direction. Looked like a knife wound to me.
I also noticed the man's clothes. He was in pajamas. So this attack must have happened after six o-clock last night. I decided that I'd check back with Miss Pretty-Face to back up that theory.
"Alright, I'm done here," I said, standing. I pulled out my notebook and jotted down some quick thoughts before finally turning and exiting the house.
Herman was still talking to Rebekah when I approached them again.
"Back already, huh?" Herman said, the smile from before returning to his face.
"Yeah," I said. "Not much to see."
Rebekah was wearing a frown on her tear-streaked face.
"Can I have a word with Miss Rebekah, Herman?"
Herman looked at me. "Yeah, yeah. Of course."
He took a few steps back. I took his place standing directly in front of her. "Hello, ma'am," I said as cordially as I could manage. "I'm Detective Marc Angel."
Rebekah nodded, not saying a word.
I blinked. "I presume you live with your uncle?"
"I see," I said. "Were you there last night?"
She shook her head. "No."
"Where were you then?" I asked, trying not to smile.
Rebekah sighed. "I was with some friends. I spent a week with them over in New York."
"You had fun?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Then I did smile. "Nothing in particular. I've never been to New York, that's all."
Rebekah nodded. "I see, well, yes. It's a lovely city."
"So what time did you get home---"
"I didn't. Well---I haven't yet. Your partner stopped me right here---I was on my way back from the train station."
"I see, I see. Do you know of anyone that didn't like your uncle?"
Rebekah was silent for a moment. "Umm...no. Not that I know of."
"Anything weird happen, lately?" Herman cut in.
I glanced at him, giving him a glare that quickly silenced him. "Yes---like, any anonymous phone calls or threats?" I asked, returning my gaze to her.
"As a matter of fact," Rebekah said, her eyes widening. "No."
Herman and I exchanged looks. "Okay," I said slowly. "Do you know of anything that could be useful to the investigation? Anything at all?"
Rebekah didn't respond for a short second. "Well---no. Not that I can think of."
She wasn't saying much, but that was probably due to the fact that her uncle had just suddenly been murdered. I can imagine that she would have been shocked. I assumed that was the reason we weren't getting much out of her.
I was right, for only five seconds later she broke down sobbing again. I didn't really know what to say, or how to comfort her. So I didn't. Instead, I pulled Herman to the side and discussed quickly what had just happened.
"What do you mean, 'We'll talk to her later'?" Herman asked, scratching his head.
I frowned. "We're not going to get anything out of her when she's like...this."
"Agreed, but when are we going to come back to talk with her?"
I looked up into the cloudless blue sky. "Tomorrow? The next day, maybe?"
"Either will do," Herman said thoughtfully.
I nodded to him. "Alright then. I think we're done here."
"Yes, I think we are."
We both turned and started to walk towards our cars. I stopped. I turned and walked back over to Rebekah, who was still sobbing her pretty brown eyes out. I reached out and handed her a note with my phone number on it. "If you remember anything," I said, trying to talk louder than she was crying. "Even the slightest detail, please call me."
She nodded through the sobs.
I turned and started to walk back towards my car.
Thank God I'm not a psychiatrist, I thought as I climbed in.