40 Distinguish Her Follies (1/2)
”Why do you think she hurt him?”
The older woman had been distraught over the death of the younger man She was not able to speak in fluent English but had been the one who had called the cops and asked them to check on him. Lawrence was his English name. She had been sure that something was wrong when he didn't show up for breakfast that morning.
The younger man was a second generation immigrant who could speak Korean and was living away from his family, he missed home-cooked food and gravitated towards the elderly woman who offered him foods that he had grown up eating. While he was living with the chef, he had dissatisfied with the variety of dishes cooked by Dorothy. It was a pity that a world-renowned cook fed him but couldn't quench his appetite for his mother's food. Some other woman, probably her own age had given him that.
”He came to me a couple of days ago and asked me to call the police if he didn't come for the meal without prior notice.” Her voice wavered. She had yet to find out what had happened to him, but I was quite sure that she had guessed the fate of this young man, who had been killed by his lover.
”Did he say why he was anxious?” I asked, hoping I was not pushing her too hard. My voice was soft and reassuring. I tried to give her the confidence to speak. She shouldn't be interrogated like a criminal, she had just been a good neighbourhood aunt who wanted to take care of the man.She hadn't committed a crime for calling the police.
I had heard whispers of the other policemen saying that he had a relationship with this woman, as well. And I didn't think it was important. Judging her for who she was with would be the last thing I would wish on anyone. There were talks of how he must have cheated and angered her to murderous rage. But what was murderous rage? What was this talk of someone who had cheated deserving death? Sometimes, I didn't understand how humans think, how they could be so blasé about the life of another creature. It turned my stomach.
”She came to my house and screamed at me. Said that I was a witch.” I scrunched my brow in confusion.
”Did you understand her?” I asked, suddenly doubt blooming in my heart.
”Yes, her voice was enough. Lawrence was there. He apologized and left.” Her face was full of worry. I knew she was curious to know the actual truth that no one had thought of telling her.
'Keep her in the dark. Get as much information as you can,' the lead inspector had told me. And I thought he was talking about her being distraught after hearing about his gruesome death, but I soon understood what the talk was about. They wanted to keep their options open. A celebrity was hard to prosecute and public opinion left much to debate. They were going to see if this woman had some information that could overturn the case. She was simply a pawn, no one cared about her.
The harshness of the situation horrified me.
”How did you understand?” I asked, just to be sure.
”I know a little English. I learned all the curse words,” she offered me an unwilling smile. I leaned forward to press my palm on her hand, in the same fashion as Sebastian had done in the car. In a stroke of luck, it worked. The woman broke down into tears.