The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller (10 page)

Detective Jones didn’t reply. “Do you like your job?” he asked, instead.

“I get by,” Darcy said, feeling more at ease. “It’s not as stressful as many jobs are.”

“I’m sure.”

An awkward silent moment passed. Darcy shuffled in her couch, waiting for Detective Jones to say something.

“What do you do on weekends for leisure? I assume you don’t work.”

“No. I have the weekend off. Usually, I stay in my apartment and watch some TV. Sometimes I watch a movie, catch up with old friends or call my family.” Darcy said.

“How’s your relationship with your family? Do you visit them often?”

“Uh…I haven’t had much time to go see them since I began my job. I call them frequently.”

“Is that what you did this weekend?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you call your family?”

Darcy sat up straight, her lower back tensing. She met Detective Jones’ direct gaze. “Ummm…yes.”

“Did you do anything interesting this weekend? Sundays can be boring sometimes.”

She knew what he was getting at.

“I met an old friend.” Darcy said. 

“An old friend?” Detective Jones raised his eyebrows.

“We were classmates in college. We caught up over coffee.” Darcy said, covering her trembling legs under the couch.

“You met your classmate yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“What time did you meet?”

Darcy was silent.  “In the morning. We had lunch together.”

“You came back, then?”

“Yes. I was tired, so I took a nap.” Darcy said.

“What did you do after you woke up?”

“I made dinner, watched TV and ate.” Darcy summarized.

“When was it that Mr.Hatter told you about Dr. Williams’ visit?” he asked.

“It was sometime after dinner,” Darcy said. “I can’t remember exactly.”

“Did you not call him after your heard he had visited you again?”

“No.” She didn’t explain. She glanced at the clock and calmed her hungry stomach.

“Will that be all for tonight?” Darcy asked, impatiently. Detective Jones looked up at the clock. It was nine-thirty.

“I’m sorry for keeping you so long,” He stood up. He grabbed his coat. His eyes lingered on her.

“Thank you for your time,” He said, putting his coat on. He walked to the door. “I’ll contact you again if I have more questions.”

“I am glad to be of help.” Darcy said, closing the door behind him.

She saw him walk away outside the window. She released the air she was holding. The interview had gone smoother than she expected. However, Darcy had the uncomfortable feeling that this was only first of many meetings. She watched Detective Jones leave and pulled the curtains over the window.

Darcy and Jillian walked into Michael’s office at midday on Tuesday. The storm of papers had passed. She saw the surface of the furniture. A petite woman walked up to her. Darcy noticed her dark eyes examine her. Her straight black hair was cut to her shoulder.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hi, I’m here to see Mike-uh Michael.” Darcy said. The girl turned to Jillian.

“I’m with her.” Jillian put in.

“I’m sorry, he’s out of the office,” the girl said. “He should be back soon. Did you have an appointment?”

“No. He said I could drop in today.” Darcy said.

“He must be on his way back. I’ll call him and find out.” The intern said.

“Thank you.” Darcy said.

“Please have a seat,” she said. “By the way, I’m Nancy. I’m an intern.”

“Nice to meet you, Nancy,” Jillian said.

Darcy sank into an empty chair covered with teal cushions. Jillian sat beside her. The intern walked to the crammed kitchen, murmuring something.

“It’s a nice, little place.” Jillian remarked, staring at the teal wallpaper on the wall. Newspaper cuttings, photographs of Mike receiving an award and the team hung on the wall.

The intern reached behind Darcy for her lunchbox. The smell of food mixed with the air.

She took a bite of the sandwich. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s lunchtime for us.”

“Oh no…please go ahead.” Darcy said. She turned away. “It’s a quiet day.”

Darcy leaned on the chair. The intern took a bite of her sandwich.

“Such days are rare. You gotta enjoy them when they come.”

Jillian smiled.

“So, you’re here for an interview?” The intern asked.

“Yes.”

“Mike’s been talking about that article. He thinks it’s the next big thing.”

“I agree,” Jillian said. “I was hooked the moment I heard of it.”

“You saw a doppelgänger? For real?” Nancy asked.

“Yes. She looked exactly like me. It spooked me out.” Jillian said.

“You have a photo?”

“No. I should’ve taken a  photograph but it was too crowded.”

“Mike’s into the article. He thinks it has great potential.”

“It certainly is unique,” Darcy said. “I would’ve never linked parallel worlds to doppelgängers.”

“I don’t know how he comes up with these ideas,” the intern said, nodding her head. “He’s a genius.”

The door opened. Michael strode in. His eyes were well-rested. He had a light blue shirt on. He rushed to Nancy and mumbled something. He raked his hand through his brown hair. Jillian stood up.

“Really sorry, I’m late. I got stuck in traffic.” He said.

“We didn’t wait long,” Jillian said.

“Would you like anything to eat? Drink?” Mike asked.

“I’m fine,” Jillian said.

“Just a minute, let me get the recorder-”

“Take your time.” Jillian said. She stripped off her coat. Her dark green sweater came into view. Darcy noticed how beautiful Jillian looked in it. The color matched her eyes. The images faded to her mother’s. She saw her mother smiling in the kitchen wearing a green blouse. The sound of gentle laughter filled her ears. The vision wilted under the bright light that gushed in through the open window.

“Come in.” Mike said, opening a glass door. It led to an enclosed room. Jillian walked to the room.

“I’ll wait,” Darcy said.

“You sure? You can head back to the library or-” Jillian said. Darcy nodded. Darcy remained seated. She smiled at Nancy who shoved the sandwich down her throat. She shut her lunchbox.

Fifteen minutes later, Jillian emerged. She looked upbeat.

“Thank you for your time.” Mike said.

“Pleasure.” Jillian said. “I can’t wait to see the article,” Jillian said. “I’ve never seen my name in print. Ever.”

“It’s going to be a while,” Mike said. “The article got pushed back.”

“Pushed back?” Darcy asked.

“We’re covering Dr. Williams’ murder this month.”

“That is shocking. I couldn’t believe the news yesterday.” Jillian said.

“The police is positive it’s a murder. A statement was released this morning,” Mike blew air out from a narrow ‘o’ on his lips. Darcy’s face was still as stone. “Well, have a good rest of the day.”

“See you.” Jillian said. She was already halfway to the main door.

“Nice meeting you.” Mike said. Darcy flashed a weak smile and followed Jillian.

She closed the door behind her.

“He likes my idea.”

“Huh?” Darcy almost hit the closed door. She pulled her body away and followed the stairs.

“The one I told you about. Left to right?” She raised an eyebrow.

“The evil twin theory?” Darcy asked, her eyes fixed on the winding staircase.

“I like that name,” Jillian said. “Mike thinks it has potential. If my doppelgänger is my reflection, shouldn’t she be the opposite of me?”

“If you’re right, that means your evil twin is out there to get you.” Darcy stopped as soon as she said those words then took a step, reluctantly.

“You think you have an evil twin somewhere out there?” Jillian asked.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” Darcy said.

Chapter 12

Darcy walked down the boulevard. The hustle and bustle of Wednesday morning played in the background like a film soundtrack. A sharp horn broke the monotony. Her eyes trailed to the television screen blasting inside a shop window. Darcy’s head turned to the shop. News flashed. She didn’t hear anything. She didn’t need to.

‘
Investigation of Dr. Williams’ murder begins
’

The words blinked on the screen. She saw a broad-faced woman in a violet suit on screen. Her brunette hair was brushed back. She puckered like a fish.

He was dead. Gone. The news reporters and detectives couldn’t convince her intuition. He was the reason her life turned out this way. How could he leave before paying for his sin?

Detective Jones’ stony eyes juxtaposed over the image of Dr. Cleo. The faces metamorphosed into a third image. The man had one grey and one blue eye. His jaw was hard. He looked into her eyes. He was a hunter, and she was his prey. She jerked her eyes open.

She glanced at the hub of activity. People walked out of the underground and rushed to work. Shop attendants were busy putting up displays. Darcy eyed the boutique on the corner of the road.

She stood across the library. She walked to the university building. The glass doors welcomed her. She took a deep breath and stepped in. Her gaze extended straight to the high chandelier that hung on the ceiling. Her legs moved away from the door. The carpet made her feet drag. She took the elevator to Susan’s room. An upbeat Jillian was waiting for her in the room. 

“Mike called me,” she said. “He thinks the interview will look great in the article.”

“Hmmmm…..” Darcy hung her coat on the stand. “Susan’s not in?”

“Not yet,” Jillian continued. She picked a book up from the table and showed it to Darcy. “I borrowed it.”

Darcy’s eyes fell on the book. It was
Doppelgänger
. The evil twin on the cover smirked at Darcy. She turned away.

“I read half of it last night,” Jillian continued in a high-pitched voice. “You should read it.”

Darcy nodded, distractedly. She peered out of the window. Another grey day.

“They’ve identified a suspect in the Dr. Williams case,” Jillian said. “It was someone he saw before he died.”

Darcy turned suddenly. Her head thudded, matching her increased heart rate. Jillian’s image beat like a heart before her. She clutched the edge of the windowpane for support.

“What?” was all she could say.

“The detectives,” Jillian elaborated. “The detectives suspect somebody he met on the day of the murder.”

“How do you know this?” Darcy moved closer.

“Insider information,” Jillian said, with an impish smile. “Mike told me.”

How much did Mike know?

“Have they disclosed a name?”

“No. It’s a high-profile case. They couldn’t compromise the privacy of the suspect,” Jillian said, scratching her chin. “That really makes you wonder who it is.”

The door opened. Susan arrived.

“Good morning. We have a lot of work to do today.” Susan said, abruptly ending the conversation.

That afternoon, Dan called.

“Hey sis.”

“Hi. How’s the job?”

“You heard the news?”

“Ummmm….”

“Things are uncertain at the moment.”

“Did you move to the asylum at King’s Park?”

“Not yet. Next week, maybe.”

“Dan, you’re okay, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I was worried. That’s all,” The cleaner walked by. Darcy moved toward the window at the end of the corridor.

“Dad said he wanted to meet you this Christmas.” Dan said. Silence descnended on the phone line. Darcy hadn’t spoken to her father in six months. They had short, infrequent conversations ever since she moved to Chicago at seventeen. She always missed Christmas and Thanksgiving. It was an assignment or work or exams. Darcy’s father came down to Chicago twice when she was at University but he had stopped visiting after that because of his worsening Vertigo. He was growing old and he didn’t have the stamina he once did.

Dan was the intermediary. He lived in New York and visited dad every year. He was usually the one who told Darcy about what dad was up to. Though she felt guilty leaving her father alone, she never wanted to return to New York again. It was the place her mother died. It was where she had suffered. And, it was where Dr. Cleo lived. She breathed and turned to the phone.   

“Me? I don’t think I can come.” She said.

“It’s been eight years. Shouldn’t you visit him once? He’s getting old. He wants to see you.”

“I know but I’m busy this year.” Darcy didn’t know how her father looked anymore. She saw him on Skype and heard him on the phone every once in a while but those things didn’t compare to the real thing.

“How long are you planning to stay in Chicago?”

“Are you really asking me that?” Darcy said.

“Don’t you want to move back to New York sometime?”

“I like it here,” Darcy said. She looked at the grey sky and turned, “I’m comfortable.”

“All right. Whatever you say. I need to get back to work.”

“You do that,” Darcy said. “Love you.” 

Dan hung up. Darcy shoved the phone into her pocket and made her way back into the library.

The day came to an end. She walked out of the library at 7:30 and made her way to the crowded Red Line.  

At 8:00 PM, Darcy got back to her apartment. Her messy apartment greeted her. She immediately turned on the television. The noise absorbed her tiredness. She threw the bag on the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She pulled out a candy bar and sank her teeth into it. The sweetness dissolved her stress. Her teeth bit into the chewy bar again, soaking up every gram of glucose.

She opened the refrigerator and looked through it. There was nothing except asparagus. She pulled it out. With the candy bar hanging from her mouth, she proceeded to open the cupboard. She decided to go with pasta that night.

Ten minutes later, her empty plate was filled with a hot helping of asparagus pasta. She moved to the television with her plate of pasta. She placed it on the table. Her eyes darted to her laptop. She grabbed it and turned it on. The pink lotus on the desktop screen came on. She ate a spoon of pasta while logging in.

She instantly clicked on the ‘My Diary’ page. The black page filled her vision. A new post was up. Darcy scrolled eagerly.

Christmas Plans

Darcy moved down the title line.

It’s almost December. Christmas is around the corner. It is the time when you go back home and meet family.

Home. I haven’t thought about it in ages. I grew up there. It’s where my mother lived. It’s where her memories live now. I haven’t seen my family in ages. I miss the broad roads, sunshine and the familiarity of a small town.

There are some people I want to meet. There are some truths I want to know. My mind remains in New York though my body is in Chicago. The life I lived there has left an imprint on me that can never be erased.

Maybe I’ll go home next year. Maybe not. I wonder if I can ever go back there.

The next post was the about Ben & Jerry’s. She ate dinner, mentally reiterating the blog post.

After dinner, she placed her plate in the sink and walked to the bedroom. She glanced out of the window, blankly. She hadn’t been home in over a decade. She forgot how her father’s hands felt. She didn’t know how tall Dan had grown. She’d traded those experiences for safety.

She opened the drawer and pulled out the photo frame. Her mother’s face.. She couldn’t bear to go back to the house that was colored with memories of her mother. Each year, it became more difficult to go back. Next year, it’d be the same, and the year after that and the year after that.

She walked over to the table. Her eyes moved to drawer. She was unconsciously reminded of the revolver that lay in the drawer. Now, it had no use. She slid the drawer open. The satin cloth lay on a flat surface. Darcy’s eyes enlarged.

She pulled the satin cover away. There was nothing beneath it. Darcy grew worried. Where was the revolver? She began opening the other drawers and cupboards. It wasn’t there. Where had it gone?

She went through her wardrobe and other drawers but the revolver was nowhere to be found. An uneasiness came over her. Had somebody been to her house? Had someone looked through her belongings?

She remembered what Mr. Hatter said. Could it be the stalker?

The doorbell rang, disturbing her thoughts. She placed the photo in the drawer, stood up and made her way to the door.

“Who is it?” she asked from the other side of the door.

“Detective Jones,” a deep, masculine voice said.

Darcy rushed to the door. She opened it immediately. Two mean stood outside the door. One of them was Detective Jones, the rugged, middle-aged man who questioned her yesterday. The other man was short and stout. His muscles bulged under his tight sweater. His intense gazed pierced through her. He produced his detective’s badge from his pocket and flashed it at her.

“Good… evening, I didn’t know you were coming.” Darcy said, her voice shaky.

“May we come in?” Detective Jones said, but before she could answer, the men barged into the house. Darcy stepped aside. Detective Jones looked around the house. He sniffed. Asparagus pasta in white sauce.

“Detective? What is this all about?” Darcy cut in. Detective Jones turned. He took a step words her.

“Ms. Darcy Godfrey?” the other man called in a sharp voice.

“Yes?” Darcy said, with an illusion of composure.

“Ms. Godfrey, we have reason to suspect you for murder,” Detective Jones began. Her back was an inch away from the wall. He stepped closer. Her shoulder banged into the wall. She looked up at his intimidating profile. As the words sank into Darcy’s mind, a sense of panic shot up her spine.

“Murder? What…what the hell is this about?” she roared. Detective Jones pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his belt.

His large hands closed over hers. She was shaking. Her legs were jelly. Her eyes stared at the scenery blankly.

“You’re suspected of the murder of Dr. Cleo Williams,” Detective Jones began.

“Me? I think you’ve got this wrong. Proof-”

“We have an arrest warrant.” he said. He pulled out an arrest warrant from his pocket and handed it to her. She read through the words, her senses flooding with disbelief.

“We have reason to suspect you involvement in a murder,” the other detective said. He caught Darcy’s arm.

Darcy’s blank eyes looked at him. Alarm colored her reaction.

“You need to come down to the police station for interrogation,” he said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a
court of law
. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot
afford
a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense. Do you understand?”

Darcy gulped. She nodded weakly. She failed to register the words. Before she could react, he clamped her hands together and tied them with handcuffs. The cold sensation of exposed metal shocked her skin.

“Detective, what is going on?” she asked.

“I request you to come down to the police station. If you do not comply, you can be arrested.”

“I-I…this is all to sudden.” Darcy said. “What happened?”

Her heartbeat burst in and out of her lungs.

He held her hands and made his way out of the house. Darcy footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. She handed her apartment keys to Detective Jones who locked her apartment and pocketed the keys. The walked down the flight of stairs and reached the street. The cold wind nullified her scanty clothing. A police car stood outside the apartment building. Detective Jones and his colleague escorted her into the car. Darcy didn’t look back at the apartment building. She closed her eyes, desperately hoping that when she opened them, none of this would exist.