The Doppelgänger: A Psychological Thriller (11 page)

Chapter 13

A distant beam of sunlight pierced through the darkness. Particles of dust flirted with the air. Darcy opened her eyes. The hazy scenery solidified. Narrow beams of light filtered through the openings in the window. Her body ached. Her body ached like hell. Her throat was dry, her lips chapped and her neck bent. She looked up. Curious eyes glanced at her. Four people sat around her. One of them was a young boy in his teens. His ears, chin, mouth and nose were pierced. His hair was bleached. He chewed gum constantly. The boy shot Darcy a glare. She turned to the next person.

He was a middle aged man who scratched his balding head. His eyes darted to the wall clock. He wore an old grey jacket with a pair of jeans.

“What did ya do?” a thick voice asked. Darcy turned to a woman sitting next to her. The woman’s dark eyes looked into Darcy’s. Darcy exhaled a puff of warm air. She stared at the woman’s platinum blonde hair and dark brown eyes.

“Ya never seen a woman before?” she asked. She looked turned to Darcy’s disoriented body.

“Where am I?” Darcy asked.

“They call it a police station.” the woman said, sarcastically.

Memories of last night came rushing to her. The police took photographs and fingerprints after her arrival. She was then sent to a room to wait for her lawyer to arrive. And that’s where she was.

Footsteps echoed through the long corridor. She saw the faces of those in the waiting room turn to the source of the footsteps. A shadow emerged. It shortened until it solidified into a man. He wore a uniform. His height was similar to the men who had come last night.

“You awake?” he asked, examining Darcy. She gulped. “Your lawyer’s here to see you.”

The lawyer was here. Darcy stood up. The other three looked at her.

“Come this way,” the man said. Darcy cleared her throat. She followed him down the short corridor. He escorted her to a room where her lawyer sat, waiting for her.

Mr. Adams was an austere, middle-aged man with a greying beard. He wore a suit for the appointment. Darcy sat on the chair, weakly. Her mind stirred awake from a deep slumber. The facts hit her like arrows. She had been called in for questioning and here she was. Her lawyer sat before her. She gulped.

“You’re Darcy Godfrey?” Adams asked. Darcy nodded.

“I am Paul Adams, your defense attorney I will be be representing you.”

Darcy sat back on the chair. Her brown hair that had come undone spilled over her shoulders.

“You’re suspected of murder,” he said, reading his notes. He raised his head and surveyed her expression.

“I know.” Darcy said, in a low voice.

“First of all, I want you to be honest with me,” he put in. “It’s best for the both of us.”

Darcy nodded.

“I understand Detective Jones spoke to you about the case on Monday?”

“He came by and asked me a few questions.”

“Why do you think he has any reason to suspect you?”

“I didn’t think I was a suspect. Our conversation on Monday went smoothly. He didn’t say anything about me being a suspect.”

“What did he ask you?” Paul asked.

“He asked me general things like whether I knew Dr. Williams, how long I’d been living in Chicago and about my family. He also asked where I was on the night of murder,” Darcy said. “I told him I asleep when Dr. Williams visited.”

“So he visited you on the night of the murder.” Paul confirmed.

“Yes.” Darcy’s fingers trembled. “He left his card with Mr. Hatter- my neighbour.”

“Why did he come to meet you?” The lawyer’s eyes scanned through his notes. “I’m sorry. I rushed here. I didn’t have time to go through the details.”

Hunger coupled with dizziness blurred her vision. She leaned against the back of the chair for support.

“He wanted to make sure I was all right. That’s what I think.” Darcy said, hesitantly.

“That’s what you think?”

“He came to deliver a lecture at the university I work at. I fainted during the lecture. I thought he was worried.”

Adams cleared his throat. “As I said before, it’s better for both of us if you’re honest. What is your relation to him?”

His green eyes looked into hers. Darcy took a few minutes to think. Her eyes remained on the grey wall. Her heart thudded at the back of her head.

“Uh…I…don’t know. I don’t know him,” Darcy blurted, nervously. “Maybe he wanted something. I’m not really sure.”

“You mean to say you don’t know why he visited you?” he asked. His green eyes drew closer to her.

“Yes. I don’t know why he came to see me.” Darcy confirmed.

“And you have no personal relationship?”

“No.”

The lawyer exhaled. He wrote something.

“When did you return home that afternoon?” he asked, flipping pages.

“Around two-thirty.”

“And you were in your apartment after that?”

“Yes.”

“So, did you meet Dr. Williams that evening?”

“No,” Darcy said. “I was at home but I didn’t meet him.”

“Anyone who can confirm this?”

“My neighbor. Dr. Williams spoke to him before he left.”

“And what did you do after seven?”

“I ate and slept.”

“You didn’t go out?”

“No.”

“Anyone who can confirm this?”

“Uh…no….I don’t think,” Darcy said, hesitantly. “Mr. Hatter goes down to the pub at eight. He isn’t back until late night.”

Paul raised his eyebrows. He turned to his notes. “What about the surveillance cameras?”

“The building is upgrading the security system so, the cameras haven’t been working all week.” Darcy said.

“That’s tricky.” Adams said. “We need to find an alibi. Did you do anything else that night?”

“I cooked dinner. I watched television, and I slept. It was a quiet night.”

“What were you doing at ten?”

“I was asleep.” Darcy said.

“That is going to be a difficult to prove….” He hesitated.

“I think it’s best for you remain silent for now.” he said.

“Why did he arrest me?” Darcy prodded.

“He says he has incriminating proof.”

“What proof?”

“There’s a CCTV recording of you entering Dr. Williams’ house at ten that evening.”

Darcy’s eyes enlarged.

“That’s not possible. I was at home all evening.” Darcy banged her fist on the table.

The lawyer nodded. His eyes moved through his notes.

“I’ll try to look for some evidence,” he said. “I saw a video of you entering the building at 9:30 pm. There’s also a video of you exiting the building at 10:15.”

“That’s…it doesn’t make sense,” Darcy said. Her hollow eyes looked at the expressionless lawyer. “I’m sure I was at home.”

Adams glanced at his Rolex watch.

“I’ll find out what happened. In the meantime, stick to your testimony. I’ll be there to help you, of course.”

“Will Detective Jones be questioning me?” Darcy asked, deep lines forming under her tired eyes.

“Yes,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “If he asks anything about that night, just refuse to answer. Do you understand?”

Darcy nodded.

“If he presses, stick to whatever you said on Monday. You were asleep when Dr. Williams came by. After dinner, you heard about the visit from your neighbor and went to sleep. Is that clear?” he asked. Darcy nodded. His left leg trailed across the floor. He stood up.

“There’s the video tape, of course. Detective Jones has evidence of you going into Dr. Williams’ house. Would you like to explain how that happened?”

Darcy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “There must be a mistake. I’ve never been to Dr. Williams’ house.”  

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen the footage but he summoned you for an interview based on the evidence.”

“I’ve never been to Dr. Williams’ house. Like I said, I don’t know him.” It was a lie.

“I haven’t been able to look at the video. Detective Jones isn’t sharing information,” He said. “You remain silent if he asks about the video. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“I think we’ve covered our bases with that. I’ll be with you to cover up for anything else.”

A knock interrupted the conversation. The door opened. Darcy saw a familiar shadow condense into Detective Jones. His piercing grey eyes looked sharply at her. Darcy looked at Mr. Adams mostly.

“It’s time for the interview.” he said in his gruff voice. The lawyer moved to the door. Darcy sat on the chair, frail as glass. She looked at the two men writing for her. Looking up made her head hurt. A throbbing pain filled one side of her head. The hunger mingled with headache and formed a smog of fear.

Darcy stood up and took a step. She felt her head would split open any moment. She was nauseous. She hadn’t eaten anything, but she wanted to puke.

Her mind was heavy with thoughts. The lawyer’s words encircled her mind. He stayed right behind her as she walked down the corridor. She was sure she didn’t meet Dr. Cleo that night. Why would she go to him?

Darcy’s feet stopped outside a room. Detective Jones opened the door. She walked through. The door shut with a thud. Detective Jones moved across the room in a feline motion and placed himself on the chair before her. He crossed his legs.

Darcy sat on a cold, grey chair. Paul Adams sat next to her, his eyes focused on Detective Jones. Darcy sensed nervousness in him. They hadn’t had much time.

The quiet room made her drowsy. She looked at empty chair that lay across the table. To her right was a mirror. Darcy glanced at the other side of the room. She was being watched. She could see nothing but she knew she was being watched.

The door opened again. The second detective emerged. She remembered him from the previous day. He was tall and had a strong, muscular body. His eyes were a deep black and his hair had been shaved off. He sat in the chair facing her. Her face was reflected in a mirror that filled one side of the room. She squirmed in her chair.

Detective Jones turned to her. He placed both his legs on the floor. He cleared his throat.

“I will begin your interview now. You have a right to silence. Anything you say may be given in evidence in a court of law. Do you understand?”

Darcy nodded. Detective Jones’ eyes turned to the notepad. He turned on the recording device that lay at the edge of the table.  “Name?” He ticked his pen on the table as he spoke.

“Darcy Godfrey,” she answered instantly.

“Date of birth?”

“Sixteenth September, nineteen seventy-five.”

“Occupation?”

“Librarian.”

“Social security number?”

Darcy spelled out her social security number.

“Have you ever been convicted of a crime?”

“No. Never.”

“Drunk driving? Speeding?”

“No.”

“Family?”

“Excuse me?”

“How many family members? Parents? Siblings? Partners?” the other detective explained, gesturing with his hands.

“Two. My father and my brother.”

“Where do they live?”

“In New York.”

“Where in New York?”

“My father lives in Smithtown. It’s in Long Island.”

“And you brother?”

“New York City. Brooklyn.”

The detective wrote it down.

“What does your brother do?”

“He’s a researcher.”

“Where does he work?”

“Amb-”

Darcy bit her tongue. Adams shot her an encouraging look. Detective Jones pushed a bottle of water toward her. She opened the bottle and gulped the water. Life returned to her body. The images became clearer.

“Where does he work?” Detective Jones repeated the question. His stony eyes closed in on her. His hands moved to the table. It trapped her between the table and the wall.

“Ambrosia Labs,” she replied. She met his gaze.

“Ambrosia labs,” the detective repeated. Darcy fought the urge to close her eyes.

“When was the last time you saw your brother?” he asked, startling her.

“Last year. He visited me after Halloween.”

“How often do you speak to him?”

“Once a week, at least.” Darcy said. 

“And you perhaps had a chance to meet Dr. Williams through your brother.”

She coughed.

“Detective, please refrain from putting words into my client’s mouth.” Paul broke in.

Detective Jones backed off. “All right. Where were you on the night of the murder?”

“I told you when you asked me on Monday.” Darcy said.

“How do you explain your presence at Dr. Cleo’s apartment building at exactly nine-thirty on Sunday evening?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Darcy said, turning away.

“Maybe a little clip will job your memory?” he said. He signaled the other detective. He stood up and began playing a video on his iPad. He put the iPad down on the table for Darcy to watch. The screen lit up with an image of the reception of a posh condominium. There was a concierge at the reception who nodded at one of the residents. The cameras focused on the door. Somebody walked in. It was Darcy. Her face was clearly visible coming in. Her back faced the camera when she turned to the reception. She walked to the front desk and signed the guestbook. The concierge called somebody on the phone then, smiled at her.  She walked away from the frame. The video stopped.

“I spoke to the concierge yesterday. He said you came to visit Dr. Cleo Williams. He remembered calling him to confirm the details. How would you explain that?”

Darcy was silent. The detective stood up. His shadow stretched over her body. His eyes glowered. “What is your answer?”

“Please stop intimidating my client.” Paul said, standing up.

“I wish to remain silent.” Darcy said. Her fingers dug into the chair handles.

“So you’re going to be silent?” Detective Jones said, backing away. He waved his hand dismissively. His grey eyes narrowed in on her. The lines of his forehead deepened. Darcy shrunk against the back of the chair. “That makes it all more suspicious.”

“I don’t see how Dr. Williams’ murder and Darcy’s visit are linked. Many people visited the condo that day. It could’ve been anyone. Besides, Darcy was there at nine-thirty and the murder took place at ten.”

“Dr. Williams had other visitors that day,” Detective Jones said. “But Darcy was in for the duration of the murder.”

“Do you have any proof to that effect?”

“She didn’t sign out of the guestbook and there is no footage of her coming out -”

“There you go. It could’ve been someone else. For all you know, she came out before the murder. There are forty staff in that building. Twenty of them have access to the apartments. Darcy isn’t more likely than them to have committed murder.”

Detective Jones was silent. Adams flashed a grin at Darcy.

“If there’s no evidence she was present at the crime scene at the time of murder, there’s no basis for this case.” Paul Adams said.

“Mr. Hatter spoke to us last evening. He doesn’t remember telling you about Dr. Williams’ second visit,” the detective said. Darcy’s heartbeat grew.

“Mr. Hatter’s has a tendency to forget. He’s getting old,” she said, after a long pause.

“I don’t think he’s likely to forget about a visitor especially since you asked him to keep an eye on your apartment,” Detective Jones detective cut in.

Darcy stiffened. She had forgotten about the stalker.  

“I hear you claim you were being stalked,” he whispered. His low whisper sent Darcy’s heartbeat soaring. She heard the rustling of grocery bags in her mind. The dark night. The Victorian lamp. The apartment. The shiny keys. Smokey’s faint mews resounded in her hollow ears.

“Did he-” a glottal stop cut her voice off. The light from the ceiling hit Darcy’s face. It highlighted the lines of fear etched on her skin. “I don’t know what this is about.”

“Were you being stalked?” the other detective cut in.

“I don’t see what that has to do this murder…” Adams said.

“Why didn’t you report it to the police?” The light on the ceiling swung from one end of the room to another. Darcy looked at the concrete floor, the visions changing with the motion of the light.