Harry
I'm impressed. And even that I'd claim to be an understatement. Ava Nicks is phenomenal. My jaw is dropped to the floor at how she handled the interview and how composed she was, despite facing the wrath of Alexander Cross.
There were moments I was unsettled at his actions as he spoke to Ava. It made me furious at moments, but it almost seemed like she wanted to get under his skin. The way she talked in circles to get him confused had me in awe. There are ways she went about things that I never would have even thought of. She is truly the best at what she's doing and deserves every bit of credit for it.
"Detective Styles," a knock on the door sounds. I look up at one of the police officers. She walks in when I welcome her.
"Here are the fingerprint analyses of the case you're working on," she tells me. I thank her and she walks out. I look at the results and I'm displeased to find that Alexander Cross' fingerprints do not match those of the notecard from the neighbor.
I look through some of the notes I had taken while Ava was in the questioning room and I type them into the computer. While doing so, my phone rings.
"Detective Styles," I say, holding it to my ear.
"Gabriel Torres is in the questioning room. We just hooked him up to the polygraph test," the Chief tells me. I thank him and hang up the phone.
Ava and I switched roles for this one. I'm the one doing the questioning while she observes. Ava seemed exhausted after yesterday's questioning, so she allowed me to take the reins today. Granted, this polygraph test won't be nearly as intense as yesterday's.
I walk in and shake Gabriel's free hand, thanking him for coming in today.
"What can I help you with?" he asks, and I begin my questioning.
"I'm going to go over a few things we discussed last time we spoke. Now, explain to me the events of last when Alexander Cross came to visit," I say, and he nods.
"He came to my apartment on Tuesday afternoon. We hung out that night. The next day he left, told me he had to run some errands, then came back after before he went to his girlfriend's. Came back and hung out with a few of our buddies," he starts, following his prior story.
"I hadn't seen him much on Friday. All I can recall was one instance when I found him looking in my truck. Said he needed to borrow something for work," he explains, my hand quickly writing it down.
"Do you know what it was?" I ask, and he sighs. He seems distressed and I want to know why.
"To be honest, I'm uncomfortable with what he took," he explains, my eyebrows furrowing. I'm not sure I understand what he means.
"How did it make you uncomfortable?" I ask, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. I'm not sure what he knows.
"I'm not positive," he tells me, my head nodding. I'm really trying to understand, but I have no idea how to get to my answers.
"Mr. Torres, we have reason to believe Alexander Cross had something to do with the murder of Victoria Peters," I explain to him. His eyes meet mine. "If you have any information to give us, anything at all, we'd like to hear it."
He nods, almost as if I gave him the assurance he needed.
"I work in fertilization," he states, a fact I had already known of. "And I keep chemicals in my truck from time to time for storage. Then I take them to work and formulate the fertilizer for use."
I nod, encouraging him to go on.
"When I had gotten to work Saturday morning, one of the chemical bottles was open. As an employee, we are only allowed to use the chemicals on job sights and in the company's building. I had them for storage, yes, but it was only for a day because I had to pick them up from the Buffalo location because we ran out at ours," he elaborates, my hand writing it down.
"I was making fertilizer Saturday morning, working alongside another coworker, and we noticed we were short on one of the chemicals," he tells me, looking me in the eye.
"What chemical was it?" I ask, and he takes a deep breath.
"It was potassium chloride. We use our fertilizers to aid in plant growth; plants use potassium chloride to grow. But I'm aware that it has much more harmful uses other than fertilizer," he explains, and I press my lips together.
"You think Alexander took the chemical from your truck?" I ask, and he nods.
"He acted so strange on Saturday. When I had confronted him about using my chemicals, something I didn't authorize, he got very angry with me. I knew he was taking something, but I had assumed it would have been a tool. Not potassium chloride," he explains, and I write it down.
"Mr. Torres, when Alexander was around prior to you speaking with him about the chemicals, did his behavior seem off to you? Was he nervous, angry, anxious?" I wonder, and he shakes his head.
"He seemed fine. I hadn't assumed much but when you questioned me the first time, I did call my brother to ask him a question," he said, my eyes looking into his.
"And what did you bring up?" I inquire, unsure of how much information he had disclosed to his brother.
"I didn't speak of the case. My thoughts were running around in my brain and I called him, asking what potassium chloride is used for," he tells me, my hand clicking the pen.
"And what did he bring up?" I ask, his hand running over his face.
"He told me that it's used in lethal injections," he tells me, my eyes meeting his.
"That is correct. It is one of the drugs used for it," I tell him, his hand balled up on his leg. It's not clenched, but rather a nervous action.
"Detective, I don't want to admit it, but I think he killed that girl," he expresses to me, and I move my pen to hold in my palm.
"Mr. Torres, Victoria Peters was murdered more than likely on Friday of last week. She was hit in the face and ribs," I start, his lips parting at my words. "However, the main cause of death was a fatal dose of potassium chloride that was injected into her."
Once I relay the news, his hand covers his face and he takes a deep breath. It's disturbing news. Learning that someone you know, someone you've let into your home, has killed someone is a hard pill to swallow.
"I had this gut feeling," Gabriel tells me, my body staying still. "It had eaten me alive, so I-I did something."
My hands fold on my lap, eager to listen. "What did you do?" I ask, his hand scratching his cheek.
"I-I had a feeling he did something. I didn't know what, but it didn't seem right how he started acting once I confronted him. So, I attempted to steer attention to him and I wrote his address on a notecard. I put it into the mailbox of his girlfriend's family," he tells me, my eyebrows raising.
"How did you know where they live?" I ask, unsure of how he got the information.
"I worked on their house a few times. I'm not sure how Alexander chose that place to bury the body, but I-I wanted to warn someone, or put some type of message to turn attention to him," he rushes, and I hold up my hand to relax him.
"We received the note the morning after the body was found. It was in the neighbor's mailbox. It directed us to Alexander and we've questioned him twice now," I put him at ease, his head nodding.
"I appreciate all the information you've given us today," I tell him, his head nodding. "It's truly unfortunate what's happened."
"It is. I never would have thought this could happen to someone I know. Someone I considered a friend," he sighs, my head nodding.
I thank him once more and let the officer dismiss Gabriel, my feet walking towards my office. My mind is racing and I file my notes into the computer, set on catching a killer.
Ava knocks on my door and takes a seat after closing it behind her.
"How are you?" I ask her, her shoulders shrugging.
"I'm at ease knowing that this case is finally coming to an end," she tells me, my eyes meeting her gray ones.
"We have a five hour drive ahead of us. You think you're going to make it?" I ask, her lips curving. It always makes me feel good when I know she's smiling; ot shows she's doing okay. I knew she would be fine; she's a tough one.
"I don't know. Might take a snooze on the way there," she grins, making me laugh.
"By all means. Anything you need to do to be in tip top shape for a search," I smile at her, her legs crossing as she sits in her chair. Her eyes meet mine once more and I can't tell what emotion is hiding behind them.
"But seriously, are you alright? Yesterday was a tough one," I say yet again, and she sighs.
"I'm alright. I was just really tired after that interview. There was a lot of information to unload with that one," she says, indicating just how much of a pain in the ass Alexander Cross is.
"As always, if there's anything I can do, I'd be happy to help," I remind her. She smiles at me once more, distracting my thoughts again.
"I appreciate it, Harry. Thank you."