Suspicion clung greedily to the cigarette smoke permeating the 8 x 10 interrogation room…
Like I told the first detective, my husband called me in all kinds of a panic, implying he was in some sort of danger and to meet him at the carousel downtown; honestly, I thought it was another one of Jake’s melodramatic conspiracies.
You mean your soon to be ex-husband, Mrs. Mitchell?
Neither one of us has signed the divorce papers, so no, Jake is, was, my husband – for better or for worse.
It seems not for worse Mrs. Mitchell as you appear to be coming into a great deal of money now that your husband is dead, isn’t that true Mrs. Mitchell?
Why, yes detective, it would appear so however, absent my attorney, I have nothing more to say this evening so why don’t you show me to the door like a polite detective.