AFTER
DETECTIVE BRETT PORTER
Three interrogation rooms, three men, three sides of the story.
I start with Ben, since he was the one who threw the first punch. Dominic didn't get much of a swing back considering I jumped in and intervened before anything else could happen. Will was grabbing Ben, pulling him off Dominic. And now here we are.
I walk into the room and the door closes behind me. I take a seat at the table across from Ben who looks like he'd rather be anywhere in the world than this room.
"Wanna tell me what happened back there?"
He looks up at me and I notice the bags under his eyes. He probably hasn't slept at all this week. Either he's distraught about the fact that this fiancé just turned up dead, or he's hiding more than I know.
"Not much to tell," he says to me. "Just guys letting off some steam."
"You know Dominic Belmont?"
"No," he scoffs, fiddling with his hands on the table. "But as you already know, Catalaina did."
"What makes you say that?"
He looks up at me. "You think I'm an idiot? I know he was in here being questioned by you. And you didn't even have the fucking courtesy to tell me yourself. I had to find out by seeing it in the fucking papers."
Fuck. The press must have caught wind of us interrogating Belmont. And now the rumors have begun spreading like wildfire.
"Anything that happens inside these walls is confidential," I tell him. "I wouldn't believe everything you read."
"Yeah? Then why don't you tell me the truth for once? You think he and I haven't already discussed it?"
I wait a moment. "Okay. So you know then, I presume?"
"That my fiancé was fucking some other guy? Having an affair two months before our wedding? Yeah, I think I'm aware."
"How long have you known?"
"He just told me. Right now. That is how I had to find out. At her fucking funeral."
"You told me previously that she had an affair before, so surely you must have had your suspicions."
"No, actually, I didn't. Because she told me it was a one-time thing that happened months ago. And I guess I was dumb enough to believe her."
"Okay," I say. "What happened at the church?"
He picks at his fingers, thinking. "Once the funeral was over, I was heading out to my car. I heard someone say my name. I recognized him once I saw his face. I remembered seeing him in the papers, the man being questioned for the murder of Catalaina.
"He had clearly been drinking. He said to me, did you kill her? Did you kill Catalaina? I freaked out, understandably, for being accused of that. And then I asked him the same question. He snapped on me, started going off, telling me that I didn't even know her, that she wasn't happy with me–" he stops for a moment, trying to calm himself. "I don't remember what else happened. More people were coming out to the parking lot. Will and his wife were there, and some of Catalaina's friends. All I remember was him saying the words, she deserved better than you, and that's when I lost it. That's when you must have showed up."
I talk to Will next. He recites a similar story, saying that he and his wife were coming out of the church when they heard yelling. Will headed over and tried to intervene to get them to stop.
"Did you hear anything that they were saying?" I ask him.
"Not really," he says. "The other guy seemed drunk. Was yelling and swearing at Ben."
"Did Ben say anything back?"
"He was saying stuff back, yeah. But I don't blame him, he was on the defence. Who is that guy?"
"Don't worry about it."
"Someone Ben knows?"
"Sure."
"Or Catalaina? I heard them talking about her."
"Like I said, don't worry about it." I push out the chair and stand. "If I have any other questions, I'll be in touch." I head for the door.
"Did you find out what happened to her?" he asks suddenly.
I turn around and face him again. "Not yet," I tell him. "But I'm working on it."
He gives me a single nod, a solemn expression on his face. He looks like he wants to say more, but ultimately closes his mouth and remains silent.
Finally, I enter the room where Dominic sits. He has an icepack to his face where his eye has begun to swell. I don't feel bad for him. He had that one coming, mouthing off to a man who's just lost his fiancé.
"Wanna tell me what happened back there?" I repeat yet again, sitting across from him.
"He fucking hit me."
"No shit," I say. "You drunk?"
"Nah."
"Want me to get a breathalyzer?"
"I had a few drinks, alright? Is that so wrong of me? Everyone was drinking back there. She's fucking dead. You know that, right? She's dead. Gone. She's never coming back."
"How much did you have?"
"A couple drinks. Nothing much."
"What did you say to him? To provoke him to hit you?"
"Nothing."
"That's not what he says."
"You think I care what he says?"
"Dominic," I say sternly. "What did you say to him?"
He sits back in the chair and looks at me. "I told him the truth. That Catalaina didn't love him anymore. And if he can't handle that, then so be it."