Status: in progress
Three Blind Mice
Suspicions
Alex Lordon
Suspicions
It was a week after the death of his wife that things once more took a turn for the worse. Alex hadn’t heard from the police since the night of the murder, so when two officers showed up at his door, he had hopes that it was to say they’d found his sons. The true reason for their coming was not nearly as pleasant. They came into his house, and in no time he could feel a sense of hostility from them. It wasn’t very long before the purpose of the visit was made clear. One officer, who seemed a bit older to Alex, began to speak in serious tones. “Hello, Mr. Lordon. We are sorry for the inconvenience, but my partner and I would like to ask you some questions. I‘m Officer Fowler, and this is Officer Duncan”
Here the second cop chimed in, his tone more conversational than his superior’s. Alex only now recognized the second officer as the man who had shown him the body of his wife. “It’s about what happened to your wife. We just want to get some details on where you might have been that night.” Immediately, Alex knew that he was a suspect. The thought disgusted him. He had an alibi for that night, so he would tell them and be done with it. “Start at the beginning please. Anything you can remember may be helpful.”
Alex looked up at them with a defeated expression. “I wasn’t home that night. I had a call from a friend, and had to leave.” His voice lacked all life. It was as if he himself had died that night, something he wished for. It was preferable to this. He had to remind himself why he couldn’t die. “Anything else, Officers?” Officer Fowler wore a scowl, and Alex could see the explanation didn’t satisfy him. Officer Duncan simply looked at him with an expression of sympathy. He wasn’t sure which one was worse.
“And can we talk to this friend of yours?” Officer Fowler asked. “We need a name, Mr. Lordon. You don’t seem to grasp the severity of your situation.” The room suddenly went quiet. Alex looked taken aback by such a blatant accusation, and Officer Duncan was almost as surprised as he was. “We have a murder investigation being conducted, Mr. Lordon, and the victim is your wife. We know from questioning neighbors that the two of you were having problems, so you can either talk to us, or talk to our friends down town.”
Alex felt the anger rise inside him, and before he could stop himself, He was on his feet and advancing on the older officer. The man’s partner jumped up immediately and stopped him in his tracks. “Please have a seat, Mr. Lordon,” Officer Duncan said, holding his by the shoulder to keep his from Officer Fowler. While his anger had not subsided, he knew well enough that he was already in trouble. He had no need to make more.
He let out a sigh, and took a seat. “Her name is Jennifer Wells. She’s a friend of mine. I was on my way home when she called me and asked for help.” He wasn’t sure how smart it would be to say anything more than that. He could see that the officers were not yet done. It wasn’t until nearly an hour later that they finally left. He had bent truths, withheld information, and flat out lied, but he had kept Jennifer’s secret. That was the important thing.
From that day on, he could tell he was being watched. He would see the police everywhere he went, and would sometimes catch glimpses of Fowler and Duncan from the corner of his eye. He was a suspect in the murder of his own wife. Maybe even the only suspect. His sons were missing, and the police were too busy watching him to find them. He thought by that point that it couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t long before he realized how wrong he was.
It was three days after the interrogation when a squad car appeared outside of his door. From within, three officers, Fowler among them, leaped from the doors and rushed to the house. Fowler raised the megaphone he’d been carrying to his mouth and shouted for Alex to hear. ”Alex Lordon, you are under arrest for the murder of Alice Lordon and Jennifer Wells Please come out with your hands up, or we will be forced to come in.”
Alex felt hiss whole body lurch, and the feeling of horror he had the night his wife had died returned to him. First his wife and children, and now Jenny too? It was too much for him. For that moment, sanity left him, and he rushed in a panic out of the kitchen where he was preparing dinner, not letting go of the knife, and into his bedroom. He snatched up a suitcase and furiously threw clothes into it, along with the family picture on his dresser. He went into his dresser and pulled out a handgun he’d bought for defense. He could hear the cops preparing to break and enter, so he took a deep breath, and looked forward at his bedroom window.
What happened next was a blur of pound and speed. His feet pounded the floor as he raced toward the window, dragging the suitcase with him. He braced himself with his free hand, and ran just as fast as he possibly could toward the window. From the front of the house he could hear the loud cracking of wood that meant the were coming in, but before the thought really registered in his mind, he jumped up, and collided at full speed with the hard glass.
Pain shot through his whole body as the glass shattered at the blow. He landed hard in the dirt, with all the cops in the house behind him. He struggled to his feet and raised the gun defensively in front of him before he took off running again. Behind him he could here Fowler shouting for them to chase after him. Alex ran like a mad man, ducking behind cars and houses. Once or twice a bullet whistled past his head. In front of his was a house, and in the driveway was a large SUV with a man just getting out. Alex raised his gun and fired a warning shot as he ran to the car. He jumped forward and grabbed the felling man. “ I don’t want to hurt you, but I need those keys.’
“Okay, okay, but don’t hurt me! I have a wife and kids.” Tears ran down Alex’s face as the panicked man forced the keys into his hand. He took them and jumped inside the car. He started the car, turned it to face the cops now only feet away, and floored the gas pedal. The lucky officers managed to jump out of the way, and Alex spent many nights trying to forget the crunching noises made by the less fortunate. Alex raced as fast as the car would take him out of town, pursued by police the entire way. As he left the houses behind for trees, he veered off the road and lost them in the woods.
With that escape, the transformation was complete. Alex Lordon, average family man, had become a fugitive from the law, accused of the murder of his own wife and friend. He was a man who had lost everything, and he was determined to find out why. That night he slept in the SUV, dreaming of the family he had vowed to avenge.
Suspicions
It was a week after the death of his wife that things once more took a turn for the worse. Alex hadn’t heard from the police since the night of the murder, so when two officers showed up at his door, he had hopes that it was to say they’d found his sons. The true reason for their coming was not nearly as pleasant. They came into his house, and in no time he could feel a sense of hostility from them. It wasn’t very long before the purpose of the visit was made clear. One officer, who seemed a bit older to Alex, began to speak in serious tones. “Hello, Mr. Lordon. We are sorry for the inconvenience, but my partner and I would like to ask you some questions. I‘m Officer Fowler, and this is Officer Duncan”
Here the second cop chimed in, his tone more conversational than his superior’s. Alex only now recognized the second officer as the man who had shown him the body of his wife. “It’s about what happened to your wife. We just want to get some details on where you might have been that night.” Immediately, Alex knew that he was a suspect. The thought disgusted him. He had an alibi for that night, so he would tell them and be done with it. “Start at the beginning please. Anything you can remember may be helpful.”
Alex looked up at them with a defeated expression. “I wasn’t home that night. I had a call from a friend, and had to leave.” His voice lacked all life. It was as if he himself had died that night, something he wished for. It was preferable to this. He had to remind himself why he couldn’t die. “Anything else, Officers?” Officer Fowler wore a scowl, and Alex could see the explanation didn’t satisfy him. Officer Duncan simply looked at him with an expression of sympathy. He wasn’t sure which one was worse.
“And can we talk to this friend of yours?” Officer Fowler asked. “We need a name, Mr. Lordon. You don’t seem to grasp the severity of your situation.” The room suddenly went quiet. Alex looked taken aback by such a blatant accusation, and Officer Duncan was almost as surprised as he was. “We have a murder investigation being conducted, Mr. Lordon, and the victim is your wife. We know from questioning neighbors that the two of you were having problems, so you can either talk to us, or talk to our friends down town.”
Alex felt the anger rise inside him, and before he could stop himself, He was on his feet and advancing on the older officer. The man’s partner jumped up immediately and stopped him in his tracks. “Please have a seat, Mr. Lordon,” Officer Duncan said, holding his by the shoulder to keep his from Officer Fowler. While his anger had not subsided, he knew well enough that he was already in trouble. He had no need to make more.
He let out a sigh, and took a seat. “Her name is Jennifer Wells. She’s a friend of mine. I was on my way home when she called me and asked for help.” He wasn’t sure how smart it would be to say anything more than that. He could see that the officers were not yet done. It wasn’t until nearly an hour later that they finally left. He had bent truths, withheld information, and flat out lied, but he had kept Jennifer’s secret. That was the important thing.
From that day on, he could tell he was being watched. He would see the police everywhere he went, and would sometimes catch glimpses of Fowler and Duncan from the corner of his eye. He was a suspect in the murder of his own wife. Maybe even the only suspect. His sons were missing, and the police were too busy watching him to find them. He thought by that point that it couldn’t get any worse. It wasn’t long before he realized how wrong he was.
It was three days after the interrogation when a squad car appeared outside of his door. From within, three officers, Fowler among them, leaped from the doors and rushed to the house. Fowler raised the megaphone he’d been carrying to his mouth and shouted for Alex to hear. ”Alex Lordon, you are under arrest for the murder of Alice Lordon and Jennifer Wells Please come out with your hands up, or we will be forced to come in.”
Alex felt hiss whole body lurch, and the feeling of horror he had the night his wife had died returned to him. First his wife and children, and now Jenny too? It was too much for him. For that moment, sanity left him, and he rushed in a panic out of the kitchen where he was preparing dinner, not letting go of the knife, and into his bedroom. He snatched up a suitcase and furiously threw clothes into it, along with the family picture on his dresser. He went into his dresser and pulled out a handgun he’d bought for defense. He could hear the cops preparing to break and enter, so he took a deep breath, and looked forward at his bedroom window.
What happened next was a blur of pound and speed. His feet pounded the floor as he raced toward the window, dragging the suitcase with him. He braced himself with his free hand, and ran just as fast as he possibly could toward the window. From the front of the house he could hear the loud cracking of wood that meant the were coming in, but before the thought really registered in his mind, he jumped up, and collided at full speed with the hard glass.
Pain shot through his whole body as the glass shattered at the blow. He landed hard in the dirt, with all the cops in the house behind him. He struggled to his feet and raised the gun defensively in front of him before he took off running again. Behind him he could here Fowler shouting for them to chase after him. Alex ran like a mad man, ducking behind cars and houses. Once or twice a bullet whistled past his head. In front of his was a house, and in the driveway was a large SUV with a man just getting out. Alex raised his gun and fired a warning shot as he ran to the car. He jumped forward and grabbed the felling man. “ I don’t want to hurt you, but I need those keys.’
“Okay, okay, but don’t hurt me! I have a wife and kids.” Tears ran down Alex’s face as the panicked man forced the keys into his hand. He took them and jumped inside the car. He started the car, turned it to face the cops now only feet away, and floored the gas pedal. The lucky officers managed to jump out of the way, and Alex spent many nights trying to forget the crunching noises made by the less fortunate. Alex raced as fast as the car would take him out of town, pursued by police the entire way. As he left the houses behind for trees, he veered off the road and lost them in the woods.
With that escape, the transformation was complete. Alex Lordon, average family man, had become a fugitive from the law, accused of the murder of his own wife and friend. He was a man who had lost everything, and he was determined to find out why. That night he slept in the SUV, dreaming of the family he had vowed to avenge.