Chapter 4 – When is a Stab Wound, Not a Stab Wound?
Edwin woke up to flashing lights and sirens. His head was aching and he heard someone say something that sounded like “he’s wanking a duck.” But then as his eyes gained focus, he was pretty sure that they said, “he’s waking up.” But there was no real way of knowing. But, then again, considering there weren’t any ducks around…
The first face that came into focus, was of a man with a Charlie Chaplin mustache and a tweed fedora that looked a couple sizes too small for the man’s head.
“Are you all right, sir?” the man asked.
“Yes. I’m fine.” Edwin said in a daze. “Have I been drinking?”
“Breathe on me,” The man said.
“No, I don’t believe so.”
“I must’ve been hit over the head,” Edwin deduced.
“It seems that way, sir. I am Inspector Maria Enrico. I would like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.”
“Did you say, Maria?” Edwin asked, in disbelief.
“I did,” Enrico said.
“Okay then. Shoot,” Edwin said, as Enrico helped him to his feet.
“Can you tell me what happened here?”
Edwin walked over to the blood covered window. The events began to replay in his head. Realizing what had happened, he darted to the window. He outstretched his arms and almost touched the glass. Enrico slammed his body between Edwin and the window rubbing his palms on the glass.
“Be sure you do not touch anything!” Enrico yelled. “You do not want to contaminate the evidence.”
“I understand,” Edwin said.
“Now, if you please, can you recount what went on here this evening?” The inspector was growing impatient.
“Yeah,” Edwin said. “I was standing over there, across the street. I saw this whore and a man all in black; gloves, long coat, fedora, all black. They were struggling.” Edwin had a faraway look in his eyes. Something was missing he thought.
“Yes, and…” Enrico was getting frustrated.
“He stabbed her?” Edwin said.
“Was that a question?” Enrico asked.
“No. He stabbed her. She slid down the window. She wouldn’t open the door for me,” Edwin said.
“She wouldn’t open the door for you?” Enrico asked.
“Yes. I offered to help and she wouldn’t get up, so I was going to go get help and then…” Edwin trailed off.
“And that’s the last thing you remember?” Enrico asked.
“I guess so.” Edwin was upset. He didn’t like not knowing stuff.
“Did you get a good look at the attacker?” Enrico asked.
Edwin took a moment to think. “Yes, but he didn’t have a face.”
“What?” The inspector cried. “What do you mean?”
“It was obscured by something. I can’t say what.” Edwin scratched his head.
The inspector stared at Edwin for a moment as if to read his mind. The inspector smiled. “Wait a minute, aren’t you the famous baseball player, Edwin… Fenech?”
Edwin blushed a small amount. “Yes. Yes I am.”
Enrico’s face became stern. “I lost a lot of money on that championship game when you hit that home run in the bottom of the ninth, you prick!” The inspector seemed upset.
“That’s why you don’t bet against Edwin Fenech. It will fuck you every time.” Edwin said with a smirk that would make most men want to punch him and most women’s panties damp. Edwin though was transfixed on the window. “Is the girl going to be all right?”
“No. She is dead,” Enrico said.
“Dead?” Edwin asked in amazement.
“Yes. Dead,” Enrico said. He said it louder than the last time, just in case Edwin couldn’t hear him.
The paramedics were bringing her body out, covered with a sheet, when Enrico stopped them. “I do have one question for you though Mr. Fenech.”
“What’s that?” Edwin asked.
“You say the attacker stabbed her then fled?” Enrico said.
Edwin nodded. “Yes.”
“Then how do you explain this?” Enrico pulled the sheet off the body with gusto. There, the woman in white lay. She was dead, this much they could all agree on. But as her lifeless body lay looking up at the stars, Edwin couldn’t help but notice the nice, round, bullet hole in the center of her forehead.