Same day
Betty arrived at the police headquarters at last and was greeted by guards. They almost seemed rather too enthusiastic for her visit. The place had not improved much since the last time she had been there--which was during a field trip. The steel bars were rusty and some corners on the ceilings were peeling.
She saw the chief coming towards her. They shook hands and he began, "Good day, madam-- "
"Good day, may I speak to the inspector, please?" Betty said, without wasting a breath. She had no time to listen to the chief's blabber and false reassurance on her father's case.
"Ah, no worries. Please proceed into the inspector's office right ahead." The chief motioned towards the office door.
"Thank you," she said and strode to the door and knocked on it. There wasn't an immediate response but she opened it, nevertheless.
"Excuse me, mister inspector?" She stood by the door as the detective inspector spun his seat around to face her direction. "It is I, Betty Townsend," she introduced herself.
"Ms. Townsend, come in, come in," the man said with his high-pitched voice. "Please take a seat. I am Detective Inspector Dimka."
She then took a seat and gave a deep exhale. "I would like to... to see my father's crime scene photographs."
"Aren't you going to ask me about the case first?" he insisted in a questioning tone as he took the photographs from his drawer.
"I know all about it already," she stated.
"Right," he nodded as he slid the photographs across the table to her. "The forensics had explained it all, perhaps?"
Betty paid no mind and had already been analysing the photographs. "Mhm, they did," she nonchalantly responded while she carefully analysed each photograph. She'd seen the broken alcohol bottle by the table and the gun in her father's hand, so far. She never thought she'd see such a scene.
The man leaned forward. "You seem determined, madam," he deduced and her head snaps to his direction.
"I am. This is not what you all claim it to be," she then returned to the photo in her and switched to one that showed the chair tumbled side ways and parts of her father's legs and lower torso visible. She felt a lump forming in her throat.
The inspector gave an all-knowing chuckle and said, "We claim it to be what it looks to be-- "
"Looks can be deceiving!" she blurted out and faced him with a sturn look on her face. The inspector raised his chin and slowly rested on his seat.
"Please do explain further," he encouraged as he placed his clasped hands in front of his face.
"My father... " she started too aggressively but paused to compose herself and continued, "My father was expecting my daughter and I, the day before he died. He especially wanted to see his granddaughter in a very long time, so my husband and I had decided to fetch her. My father was even joyous as I announced my temporary departure just so I could fetch his grandchild--"
He nodded at her, about to speak. "It would be ill-timed for Mr. Townsend to take his own life," he finished for her.
"Exactly," she raised her hands to him then dropped them on her lap.
"Then again, Ms. Townsend... looks can be deceiving, right? He could have been pretending so to not alarm you," he remarked, which made Betty's brows furrow in confusion. "He could have had plans to kill himself around that time and wanted one last goodbye to his family, including his granddaughter. Yet she wasn't there and he knew it would take long for her to get there and... maybe he could not take it no more? Also, it must have been a lot easier for him to commit when his daughter wasn't present to be the one to discover his dead body..."
"I know my father more than anybody and I can assure you, mister, that he was not pretending whatsoever!"
"It is a possibility. Who could be held responsible for his death, then?"
"I-- I don't know... yet. That's your job to find out!"
"We have done our finding out, madam--"
"It had happened just yesterday!" she exclaimed in disbelief.
"It did, madam, and it was a simple case. You are seeing the photographs," he motioned to the photographs on her lap.
Betty's jaw was clenched, she could no longer stand this man. "It was not just a simple case! Although, you all wished it was!" she yelled. She'd always believed that what's worse than a lazy man was a stubborn one. Anyway, she didn't grow up witnessing a man be either of those.
"If nobody here wants to do their job and figure this out then I shall, instead!" She stood up and marched out the door.
"Madam, the photographs--" She shut the door mid-sentence and flounced to the exit of the police station. Everyone's gaze fixed upon her but she didn't care. She won't let anyone doubt or hold her back anymore.
⠀
It was dusk when she arrived at the mansion. The servants were preparing dinner and she was told that her husband was in Alicia's room. She was relieved that he was.
As she entered the room, she saw that they were having a discussion. "May I interrupt?" she flashed a melancholic smile.
"Hello, mother, I'm sorry for my whines earlier," Alicia spoke lowly.
Betty walked towards them and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Don't worry, I completely understand why you acted in such a way. This is a sad time for you."
"It is, mother. And father gave me advice on handling it." She smiled at her father.
Betty absolutely adored what was taking place and gave her husband a quick kiss on the mouth as a form of gratitude. Her husband then took her hands and led her outside.
"What is it, Anthony?" Betty wondered, looking around the empty hallway.
"When will the funeral be?" It was but a simple question.
"After I solve this case."
"Solve the case? How had you acquired such position?"
"You don't sound as glad as I hoped you would." She crossed her arms.
"I am just wondering. Do you not need our attorney? Have you found someone who could have done it?"
"No, thank you, Anthony. And none as of now but I will attempt to find a lead tomorrow. And I shall rest for the remainder of today," she said wiping off the sweat on her forehead.
Anthony reached for her shoulder and gave soothing rubs. "It must've been an exhausting day for you, do rest. Though, our dinner shall be prepared in a bit. You go ahead, I'll get Alicia."
⠀
A few moments after dinner, Betty went ahead to their bedroom and checked whether the photographs were still safely tucked under the mattress right before Anthony came. When he did, she asked how their daughter was feeling and he said that she was fast asleep and he'd locked her door.
Betty invited him to bed and he gladly slid under the covers.
"Anthony," she spoke his name in a mellow voice. "May I question you now? I intended to spare our daughter from witnessing this at the dinner table. So, exactly where were you when it had taken place?"
"I was downstairs, to make typescripts of the manuscripts. I heard the bang before I even had started. I ran as fast as I could and... found your father--"
"All right, did you move anything from its place?"
"No, I did not. One of the servants then came and was stunned just as I was."
"Male or female servant? And their name?" Betty clarified.
"Male, Philips, I think. Man with a burn mark on his face," he tried to recall right.
"Philips, that is indeed. What then happened next?"
"I alerted the guards and they alerted the police."
"Is that all? Nobody had tampered with the crime scene for sure? Until the police had arrived?"
"Yes, that's all. Nobody had tampered with it, none that I know of. I advanced to the living room to avoid the sight of the gruesome scene."
"Well, then." She kept all in mind, and adjusted the sheets and finally settled.
She turned to her side and calmed herself. Her husband switched the lights off and had dozed off in a matter of minutes. Betty, on the other hand, could not fall into a slumber until a while.
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