Last Chapter: Part 4
The crisp midnight air blew through Detective Briggs' car; all the windows were down. The street was empty, he stopped at an oncoming red light. This case was weird to him he was sure the man was murdered. It couldn’t be the ex wife, she was the one who told him that the victim was left-handed. Bubbles couldn't have done it; she was genuinely shocked he was dead. Her reaction was sincere enough. He was missing something but what? He drove towards the 24 hour diner called ‘Roscoes’.
Once inside he ordered his usual cheeseburger with a side of apple pie.
Hours he sat there after he finished pondering who it could be. Then the neighbor appeared in his head. Why was he the only neighbor to peek through the door while all the other neighbors stood in the hall? If he knew the victim was lonely and quiet why did his demeanor seem like hatred?
Detective Briggs decided to question the neighbor in the morning. He was so sure that it was him he slept in his car until morning. He awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his window. He rolled the window down.
“Briggs what are you doing out here?”
Detective Briggs squinted his sleepy eyes.
“Charlie?”
“Go home Briggs”
“I’m working a case”
“A case? In your car? Asleep?”
“Obviously not at the moment but I’m pretty sure I got the right guy.”
“Just get out the parking lot at least go home wash your face”
“I’m working”
“All you do is work your neglecting your health”
“I’m fine don’t worry about me”
Charlie walks off and heads into the coffee shop on the corner. Charlie and Briggs were close years ago but had a falling out over a misunderstanding. Charlie’s wife was trying to comfort Briggs in a way Charlie deemed inappropriate.
Briggs headed to the old bridge apartments. He parked his car across the street. Before he got out he saw just the guy he was looking for; the nosey neighbor. He hopped out of the car.
“Hey!”
The neighbor turned around shocked to see Briggs.
“Yes detective?”
“I was wondering if I could come in and chat for a bit. I need more information on your deceased neighbor but it’s like he never existed.”
“Maybe that’s why he killed himself.”
Briggs smirked.
“Maybe”
“Something funny detective?”
“No but you didn’t answer my question”
“Question?”
“Can I come chat with you for a bit? I'm going around to all the neighbors in the building.”
The man stood there like a deer in highlights.
“Come in?”
“Yea just to ask you about stuff you saw him bring in the house besides the women. What kind of groceries he bought …stuff like that.”
“Mmmm sure just to chat yea… okay”
Briggs followed the man into the building.
The man's hand trembled while trying to put in the key.
“You alright?”
“Yes just fine”
Once the man opened the door, Briggs walked in and examined everything.
“So tell me what kind of food did he buy?”
“Mmm idk he bought a lot of coffee…mmmm bagels he liked bagels..”
Briggs walked through the hall into the living room.
“Mmmhm okay what else did you see him buy any hygiene products?”
“Yes mmmm he weirdly bought a lot of hand sanitizer”
“Okay, okay like to keep his hands clean.”
Briggs made direct eye contact with a photo on the living room window next to a small cactus plant.
“I didn’t actually get your name”
“Oh it’s Pete”
“Why did you lie to me Pete?”
“Lie?”
“You didn’t tell me you knew the victims wife… in a more than friendly way”
Briggs held up the picture to show it to Pete.
“Great photo by the way. Did the victim… I’m sorry Lance, did Lance know you were screwing his wife?”
Pete trembled.
“Look Vanessa told me he was a loser writer and nobody would miss him if he was gone. She couldn’t do it because everyone would suspect her so she asked me to.”
“And your dumb ass took the bait… look around Pete your a loser too. You live in the same shitty apartment he does. At least Lance made money from writing before Vanessa got everything from him in the divorce, what do you do what exactly?”
“I’m a cashier”
“A cashier? Really Pete, you think you're better than Lance? Why? Because you're younger?”
Pete stood there speechless.
“You're a loser Pete and now you’re a loser who's going to jail.”
Pete’s fight or flight response kicked in and took off running. He managed to climb out the back window with Briggs not too far behind him.
“I hate when they run”
Briggs realized he was getting too old to chase criminals, that or he really let himself go. He chased Pete for two blocks before completely running out of breath. Pete thought he got away as he looked back and saw Briggs stop. Unfortunately for Pete he ran right into two officers who almost let him go because of the confusing interaction.
“Cuff him you idiots!”
Before Pete could run from the officers one of his hands was cuffed and found himself being yanked back.
Briggs walked over to the officers. Officer Wilson and Officer Jones his least favorite.
“What are we cuffing him for Briggs?”
“The murder of Lance Tuffin”
“I thought it was a suicide” said Officer Wilson
“Yea”
“What? No! I told you… never mind he confessed to me. There is a picture in his house linking him to Lance's wife. They were screwing and apparently she asked him to kill him.”
“But why?”
“Yea Pete tell the stupid officers why?”
“I-she told me to do it if I loved her… she wanted the life insurance money.”
“Wait a min how would she still get money for that?
“They are still legally married just separated”
“So what’s all this talk about divorce and how she took everything from him?”
“He willingly gave her that because she was unhappy with him and he agreed to give her everything.”
Briggs was baffled.
“You’re a sucker and a loser she sold you out. She knew I was going to find out and I bet there is no proof she told you to kill him is it?”
“No…” Pete said sadly
Briggs looked away from Pete all he could think about was Lance.
“Poor bastard… you really dated the devil in disguise.”
“Soooo should we take him in Briggs?”
“Yes you idiots, he's guilty clearly!”
“Alright calm down. Let’s go murderer!”
Officer Wilson and Jones put Pete in the back of their car. Pete’s face looks pale as he comes to realize that he’s going to jail for a long time.
Briggs walks back to his car. He doesn’t get in, he just leans on the door. He starts reminiscing on how his wife used to celebrate him after catching a perp. She would welcome him home with homemade rum cake and cigars. One tear fell from his eye; he missed her and it wasn’t fair cancer got to take her away.
“Miss you Isabel”
