Shadowplay

Real Intention

Someone, who wasn’t supposed to, had tipped the mediaabout the tragedy that night.

The media was going crazy with the news, the Walter Junior? The best f*****g detective in the entire state? Murder? No f*****g way! They were buzzing like a hive of bees and even before the police van arrived, reporters, gathered in their numbers with cameras flashing here and there, horded in front of the police station. This was the biggest thing that had hit the city in the past…what? One, two years?

The media didn’t like Walter more than his colleagues did. He preferred to handle his cases by himself, even though whoever was involved was such a high-profile criminal, he always found a way to keep the media out of it. And before the media could cover any of his cases, the judge had slammed his mantle down and his criminals were behind bars already. This, they despised him for, the big cases in the city got them money, but Walter had never granted them the privilege.

Sitting at the back of the van, squashed in between two stone-faced officers, a light bulb flashed in Walter’s eyes as the van slowed down. He looked sideways slightly, through the small holes in the van’s body, he caught a glimpse of the commotion outside. His heart was racing with hundreds of thoughts, none that made sense to him because his brain couldn’t process the tousled mess his mind sent up.

“Mr. Walter!” He heard a loud cry from outside, “Is it true that you murdered your wife?”

“Why did you do it, Mr. Walter?!” Another desperate voice made him wince slightly. “And your daughter? Mr. Walter please say something!”

He felt a hard push on his shoulder and he looked at the guard by his left with wide, bloodshot eyes.

“Come on, buddy,” The guard said, jerking his thumb towards the van’s door, “Time to get you where you belong.”

“Wait!” Walter exclaimed suddenly, startling the guards as both of their hands unconsciously slipped to the handle of the guns strapped to their waist. Walter’s voice dropped to a whisper and he said, “I didn’t kill my daughter, officer,” His eyes darted around and he sniffled, wiping the bloody back of his palm against his nose, “But if I did…Then, I need to make a phone call. I must call my wife, officer!”

“What?” The other officer, whom his back was to, exclaimed in confusion and looked at his colleague, “Has he gone mad?”

Walter turned his head around sharply and the officer’s eyes flickered when he saw the dazed look in the liquid-black deep-set eyes that Walter possessed. “What did you say?” Walter asked in a raspy tone, “Did any of you hear me? My wife…Where’s a phone?” His voice grew more demanding as the foreign voice in his head began to scream at him. “I need to speak to my wife!”

He felt their firm grips under his arms as they seized him and dragged him outside the truck.

“Maybe he has really gone mad,” One of them said as the door was pulled open by an officer outside the van, “You killed your wife, Walter…so shut up and get moving.”

“What?” Walter exclaimed and for the first time, he contracted his muscles and struggled with the officers, “What?! My darling? Who killed my wife? Who?! Show me the bastard and I’ll have him killed this instant!”

“Shut up, Walter!” The officers snapped, their faces masks of utter confusion as they dragged him out.

A light bulb flashed, then another and another until Walter had to blink severally. He grimaced as another bright light hit his eyes and bowed his head. Bedlam rose when the reporters edged closer, trying to get a word from the hottest thing in town. The officers formed a barricade on both sides, creating a beeline straight into the police station, but these reporters were desperate to report something back to their media houses and started pushingthrough, h the barricade.

The officers behind him shoved Walter forward, making the cuffs scrap against his wrist. The officer who had pointed a torch at him in the uncompleted building earlier, stood in front of the station, crowded by a few reporters and camera men. Although Walter couldn’t think straight, he saw the regaling look in the officer’s face from the attention he was getting. As Walter approached him, the officer, Davis Macron, who detested Walter with every fiber in his body, excused himself from the reporters.

He grinned at Walter, but it was quick, too quick for the cameras to catch. “You have no idea how long I have waited to see you in cuffs. You lying murderer!” He snarled, then the look of hatred on his face disappeared when he straightened up and glanced at the eager reporters, “Take him into the interrogation room, right now.” He ordered the two officers behind Walter and they pushed him in.

Walter’s mind was like a fiery pit of emotions, different voice thrashed about in his mind and the worst part of it was that, he couldn’t find his own voice amongst the commotion.

“You killed her!” A harsh, authoritative voice insisted.

“No, you didn’t! You walked in on the bloody scene while trying to save the congressman!” This voice was more gentle and almost caressing.

“You killed your daughter too!” The first voice raged as he was pulled into a room. “You killed everyone and that’s what you’ll keep doing. Kill! Kill! Kill!”

“Stop…” Walter mumbled, his vision was blurry and his eyes kept flashing with a red light, “Stop talking…”

One of the officers behind him, who was taking off the cuffs so Walter could sit down, frowned, “Hold still, Walter, no one is saying any-”

Before the officer could complete what he was saying, Walter suddenly spun around and his fist flashed in the air as quickly as a bullet would and caught the officer firmly on the jaw.

“I said, stop f*****g shouting!” Walter roared and when he saw the panic in the other officer’s eyes, a bloodthirsty hunger engulfed him and he marched forward, “Were you talking too? Are you one of those voices I hear? Is it you…is it?!”

“Backup, backup!” The officer bellowed into the PTT phone strapped to his shoulder. “Interrogation room, right now!”

Walter stepped over the officer he had dropped to the ground, but in a matter of seconds, the interrogation room, which had only a wooden table and two chairs on opposite sides of it, was swarmed by men in black. They jumped him, scrubbing the side of his face against the cold floor as they tried desperately to keep him under control.The guard whom he had punched was helped to his feet and he glared at Walter.

“Let me have him!” He exclaimed and knelt down above Walter. The officer was bleeding from his mouth, he spat blood on Walter’s face, then smacked him across the face, rocking his head backwards. “You son of a b***h!” He raised a clenched fist to the air and as he was about to land a crushing blow to Walter’s face, a deep voice rocked the room.

“Stop!”

All eyes turned to the door as Davis walked in, his broad shoulders and huge arm muscles were revealed as he pulled the sleeves of his uniform up. He removed his watch from his wrist and unstrapped his gun from his waist, then handed it to one of the other officers.

“I’ll take charge of this interrogation,” He said and dismissed everyone else, except the officer Walter had punched and another one. “Get him onto that chair and cuff his hands around the back of the chair.” He frowned in disgust at the blood stains on the floor, “Then send someone else to clean up this f*****g mess!”

Walter groaned slightly when the officer pulled both of his arms back roughly. The cuffs were snapped around his wrists but the thing was that, Walter couldn’t move because his arms were behind him and around the chair.When it was just him and Davis Macron, Walter sighed, the voices in his head were no more and had been replaced by a ravaging ache.

“Walter Junior,” Davis Macron drawled, “Faster than we could curb and now, every activist group is clawing at your case,” He chuckled wryly, “Who would have thought, eh? The great Walter Junior.”

Walter took a deep breath and said, “Whatever happened tonight, I can only tell you that I have no clear recollection…I can’t think straight right now, Macron and I am in no state of mind for an interrogation.”

Macron waved that off dismissively, “Come on, Walter, have you forgotten that you’re not the detective with the upper hand now? You don’t get to decide that.” He said and leaned in with gaunt eyes until his nose almost touched Walter’s forehead, “I can tell you what happened if you do not remember, you psychopath! You murdered your wife and beheaded your own daughter…that’s what you did.”

“Are you interrogating or insinuating? I can’t hear you clearly.”

Macron slammed his fist on the desk, “f**k!” He bolted to his feet, “You killed your family, the media wants your ass! The state attorney wants your ass! And they’re going to get it once we ship your ass into court! You just wait, Walter…I personally will put you behind bars!” He thundered, “Mark my words.”

Walter couldn’t turn around, but he heard his receding footsteps and fear started to crawl into his heart. He hadn’t even taken in the full weight of the grieve from the loss of his family, he felt like something wasn’t quite well with him, especially with his mind.

He sighed when he thought about jail and how many men he had put in there. What the hell is wrong with me? He wondered.