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Lotor sat with his head bowed in thought at the table in the interrogation room. His hands were cuffed, and his skin itched uncomfortably. His expensive white shirt was stained crimson. He was waiting for the detective who investigated his case. Apparently, he could expect nothing good. But much stronger was the sense of guilt and the pain of loss.
The door swung open.
"Mr. Anthony," a woman's voice said from behind him. A familiar voice. He slowly raised his head and looked at the newcomer.
"Allura?”
She was wearing a formal suit instead of the elegant dress he'd seen earlier, a police badge on her belt, and her blond, almost white hair was pulled back in a bun. This must be some kind of bad joke, Lotor thought.
Allura's gaze was hard. Clearly, she had already made up her mind about him, which meant that he had no chance for a second date with her. If, of course, he can get out of this mess. The glint in her eyes didn't bode well for him.
“Mr. Anthony, my name is Allura Kimberly, and I'm a detective with the Los Angeles Police Department in North Hollywood. You are charged with the premeditated murder of three people.”
Lotor noticed that her voice trembled a little when she said "murder". Was she scared? Or sympathize? No, judging by the stern expression on her face, she was angry.
"This is a mistake, Detective Kimberly," Lotor said calmly. “By the way, it is very interesting how you disguised your real profession then.”
Allura ignored his allusion to their first and possibly last date, took a seat across from him, turned on the tape recorder to record the interrogation, and spent some time tinkering with the case files, looking again at the gruesome images of the night he'd lost the people he cared about.
"So," Allura began, "what were you doing on the evening of April, 24, from eight p.m. to midnight?"
Lotor chuckled. What did she feel knowing that she was his alibi for three hours out of the four when the murder was committed?
“Shall I tell you in detail what I have been doing since 8 p.m.?” he raised an eyebrow.
"Not necessarily," Allura snapped, but Lotor felt a certain sense of satisfaction that she was clearly embarrassed.
“Okay, from 8 to 23 p.m., I was at the RedBird restaurant.” He looked her straight in the eye. Let her not be afraid, he would not say that one of the witnesses was herself. Otherwise, she'd be suspended, but it was better for him if the detective was someone he knew. “The owner of the place is an old friend of mine. I said good-bye to him at about eleven o'clock in the evening, ordered a taxi, and drove home.”
“What happened next?”
“I drove up to the house when a friend called me.”
"Mr. Rolston?"
“That's right. He said that he was having dinner with his family near my house and would like to stop by for a couple of minutes," Lotor paused and spoke very quickly, looking into the void, "And then I heard someone's unfamiliar voice, I think there was a fight, Elise screamed-”
"Pollux's wife.”
“Yes, I heard a shot and ran…”
Lotor paused. It might be easy for her to question him. But what must he have felt when he heard the shots? How was he supposed to feel when he saw the corpses of his friends? The monster who had shot them in cold blood ran in a panic, dropping the gun. Lotor didn't remember very well, he seemed to have grabbed the gun, but he couldn't get a shot off. He wanted to run after the killer, but then he heard a hoarse moan from Bandor and rushed to him. The boy was barely sixteen! He was still breathing, and Lotor was trying to help him, which is why he was covered in blood when the police arrived. And of course, only his fingerprints were found on the gun.
“What happened next?" Allura insisted, her gaze never leaving Lotor's face.
“I've already told everything! You must have everything written down there!” he suddenly burst out, feeling himself shivering.
"If you don't cooperate with the investigation, you may be in trouble," she said dryly. “Do you understand that you are facing a life sentence?”
Was it just his imagination, or was there concern in her voice as well as steel?
Lotor leaned over and pressed the pause button on the recorder.
“Look at me and tell me: do I look like someone who could have done this?" He added, almost in a whisper, "Remember last night. Could I have killed these people in cold blood right after it? You probably don't trust me. That's fair enough. Maybe you're afraid you've made a mistake about me or yourself. Well, that's okay, too. But I'm sure your intuition isn't fooling you. So look at me and tell me: could I have done what I am accused of or not?”
Allura was silent, looking into his eyes. He understood the struggle that was going on inside her. Yesterday, she hadn't mentioned that she was a cop, she had veiled her answer to his question about where she works. They had a good time together. One date might mean nothing, but Lotor felt that their meeting was destined. From the moment he'd seen her at the charity event a week ago, he'd known it wasn't an fortuity. Allura, judging by what he had learned about her, was a woman of integrity and a heightened sense of justice. She must be scolding herself for not recognizing him as a criminal. But he's not a criminal, either. He's a victim of circumstances. This is all a big mistake. Actually, as a lawyer, he's on the same side as her. But not now.
“Maybe you should call a lawyer." Allura suggested, pressing a button on the recorder.
"No need. I'm my own lawyer. Who can protect me better than myself?”
Allura opened her mouth, then changed her mind. She nodded curtly and returned her attention to her papers.
There was a knock on the door, and the tousled head of Junior Detective Kogane, who was also working on the case, poked through the crack. Lotor had already met him. The meeting was not the most pleasant. The young man was eager to put him behind bars.
"Allura, can you come here? It's urgent!” Kogane called to Allura.
"One moment. I'll be right back," she said to Lotor, and went out.
"What do you have?" Allura asked, annoyed.
“You questioned that girl, Romelle Rolston, the daughter, didn't you?"
“Yes. Just before him,” she nodded toward the closed door. “What's the matter?"
"There were new circumstances that she didn't mention.”
"What is it?" Allura asked eagerly.
"It turns out that the family has another daughter, an adopted one— LuLa Rolston. She lives in Boston now, but she's already on her way here.”
“I see. Hm, so the interrogation of the suspect will have to be postponed again. Have you interviewed the neighbors? Maybe someone saw something?”
“In progress.”
“And get me a printout of Mr. Rolston's phone calls. Maybe he had enemies.”
“We'll do it.”
"Please hurry, I don't have much time left, just over a day, while he's being held here.”
"Allura," Keith said, frowning. “Why are you doing this? The evidence is there. He's guilty.”
“My job is to put criminals away and find the guilty. But I can't do that without making sure I'm right. Now go.”
Keith nodded and disappeared down the hall. Allura rubbed her temples. In the case, it was said that the suspect constantly repeated: "It's my fault, my fault," which could be a sign of a state of passion, as well as be counted as sincere. What should she do?
She was called to the scene of the crime around 1 a.m., and barely managed to take a nap for a couple of hours after examining it. Allura had been at the PD since early morning, studying all the data she could dig up. When the photos of the suspect were handed to her, she almost exclaimed. Was it possible that she had dined the night before with someone who had killed three people? How could she have mistaken him? And the evening was so good! A handsome, courteous man, intelligent, educated — he was a treasure. Allura understood him perfectly, and by the end of the evening she knew that they would not be limited to one date. She didn't want to say goodbye to him, and she wanted to prolong this magical evening just a little longer. She wondered if he would kiss her good-bye or not, but he only brushed his lips lightly against her cheek as he helped her into the taxi. " You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time ," Lotor had said.
Allura did not tell anyone that she had seen the suspect on the night of the murder. Such coincidences simply do not happen! She'd deliberately kept it to herself, to expose him. He certainly wouldn't be able to play with her. There was a chance that he would reveal it himself, and then the case would be transferred to another detective, but somehow Allura was almost sure that Lotor would not do that. When she walked into the interrogation room and saw him…
How was she supposed to know that a few hours after a wonderful date, she would see Lotor, covered in blood, behind bars, and on her desk would be a folder with indisputable evidence of his guilt? Her intuition told her that she couldn't give in to emotions, and that she had to check everything carefully. But Allura was so angry! Either at him, or at herself. If he really did what he did, how could she not see through his appearance and gallantry as a maniac?
Allura took a deep breath. She will not give in to the sympathy she feels for him, she will be a professional who thoroughly examines all the details of the case. She shook her head, sighed again, and opened the door to the interrogation room.
The plane from Boston to Los Angeles landed at the sun-drenched airport. Luka, a tall, slender girl with red straight hair, went to passport control and soon got into a taxi.
Her pale face showed no emotion, and only a thin crease between her brows could tell that she was experiencing a storm inside.
Allura sat down again at the table across from Lotor.
"Tell me about your relationship with the Rolston family."
Lotor shrugged. What could he say?
“We've always been friends. I met Pollux Rolston when I was in high school, and he showed me the possibilities of the law. I started working on juvenile issues after university. And we worked closely with Pollux and his charitable foundation.
“How close?"
“We have jointly established a second foundation, this time private, as equal partners.”
“In the event of Mr. Rolston's death, do you become the rightful owner?" Allura frowned.
“Are you kidding me? Yes, but I wouldn't resort to such methods.”
“And what methods would you resort?"
Lotor laughed without humor.
“What’s so funny?"
"Nothing. You're being logical. But you don't have all the information.”
"Then enlighten me!"
Lotor just shook his head.
“And you had no conflict with Mr. Rolston? Maybe you didn't share something?”
“No.”
Allura scribbled something in her papers.
“Why does Miss Romelle Rolston accuse you of murder?"
"Ah, Romelle," Lotor sighed. “The girl has it in her head that I want to destroy her family.
“In what way?"
“When Pollux and I started the foundation, he started seeing less of his children, and obviously Romelle didn't like it. Spoil girl,” Lotor made a vague gesture with his long fingers. “She never got enough attention.”
“What about her brother?"
“Bandor,” Lotor had to gain all his strength to keep his voice from trembling. "Romelle is very fond of the boy. Perhaps even more than to her father. He wanted to study, and I helped him get into a prestigious private school. He shouldn't have been here at all…”
“You! Murderer! I hate you!" the girl jumped on Lotor like a storm the moment she saw him. She was hitting him so hard that they could barely drag her away from him.
Oddly enough, Mr. Anthony did not fight back, and Keith had the feeling that he was accepting the punishment, which in the eyes of the junior detective was another proof of guilt. Kogane even seemed to hear the suspect whisper, "I'm sorry."
"Miss Rolston, Miss Rolston," Keith and another police officer managed to take her away from the suspect.
"Let me go! I'll kill him myself!” Romelle screamed. "He killed my family!"
"Miss Rolston, please," Keith said, carefully placing her in the nearest chair, and then turning to the second officer, "Get some water."
Romelle, exhausted, sat moaning softly and shedding tears. She was still glaring at Lotor.
“When will you get him out of here? Can't you see that he's making her feel bad?” Keith asked the policeman on duty, irritated.
"Sorry for the delay, just a few more minutes.”
"Don't worry, Miss Rolston.” Keith handed the napkin to Romelle and glared at Lotor.
“You're getting it all wrong," the prisoner said from his seat, and it wasn't clear if he was talking to Romelle or Detective Kogane.
Before Keith could react, Romelle jumped up and ran to Lotor.
"You destroyed our family! You've torn us all apart! Lier! Murderer!”
"Miss Rolston, hello. I'm Allura Kimberly. I'm investigating the murder of your family.
“Hello.”
“I offer my condolences. Please, take a seat,” Allura motioned for Luca to sit down. “You don't live in Los Angeles anymore, do you?"
"I moved to Boston a few years ago.”
"Mr. Rolston was not your own father, right?" Allura asked.
"Yes, that's right. My family adopted me when I was fourteen.”
“Have you kept in touch with your family since moving in?”
"Yes, I called my dad and mom regularly, and I messaged with Bandor," Luka's voice broke, and tears welled up in her light brown eyes. “I didn't have time to give him a present."
"I'm sorry," Allura said, holding out a box of napkins. The hardest part of her job is seeing the relatives of those who can't be brought back.
A few minutes later, she asked a question that had occurred to her:
"And what about Romelle?"
“We never were friends.”
“Okay. Miss Rolston-”
"Please, call me Luka."
"All right. Do you know who might have wanted to harm your father?”
“Maybe one of the partners. But we rarely discussed the affairs of his foundation. I can only assume that this is due to a new project to help national minorities in the United States. Not everyone is close to this idea.”
Allura hesitated and asked the next question:
“Your half-sister blames Mr. Lotor Anthony for everything.”
"Lotor?" Luka asked, surprised. “This is nonsense! Romelle had always disliked him.”
"Luka," Allura began cautiously. "Mr. Anthony was found near the bodies of the victims. And his fingerprints are on the murder weapon.”
"What? This is nonsense! No! This is impossible! Look, the killer is anyone, anyone , but not Lotor. I'd bet my head on it. He would never do anything like that.”
“What makes you so sure? He does not deny his guilt. Official data from the investigation suggests otherwise, that he is a murderer. In addition, you yourself said that this may be related to business. Maybe Mr. Anthony wanted to take the foundation away from your father.”
"No!" Luka's eyes lit up. "Listen to me. You obviously don't know Lotor, or you wouldn't have had such a monstrous thought. Let me explain.”
"Please, I'll be only too happy if it helps. Can I offer you some coffee?"
"No, thank you," Luka answered and began her story. “I met Lotor when I was thirteen years old. I lived with one of the foster families I was sent to after my parents died. And like many orphaned children, I was a real pain in the ass for both the state machine and the family to whom I was entrusted. I got mixed up with a bad bunch. Lotor, to put it bluntly, caught me in the act of trying to steal his wallet. He was at Harvard at the time, and he came to Los Angeles for Christmas. He could have turned me into the police, but he didn't. ‘ I understand what it's like to be a lonely, cornered child .’ That's what he told me. And he took me to dinner with his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Rolston.”
"Your parents?" Allura asked, surprised.
"Yes," Luka said with a smile. “That was the first time I met them. And six months later I became their adopted daughter. It was thanks to Lotor that I had a real family. I have always had a deep respect for him. You can say that he is in some way my savior and mentor.”
“So you deny his involvement in the murder of your family?"
“Absolutely! It was Romelle who said Lotor was the killer, wasn't it?”
“That's right.”
“She and I never got along, and she hated Lotor. She said he brought a black sheep into their house. It's about me, of course. You see, I was already thirteen, and she was just a child. She felt like I'd taken her mom and dad away from her. But this isn’t true. She's just a spoiled brat, that's all. She's always been like this. She didn't understand when Mom and Dad called me daughter. She freaked out when I called them parents. In general, my relationship with my sister did not work out. But Bandor- " Luka bit her lip. “He was such a wonderful boy! Very smart! How did he end up in Los Angeles in the first place? He was supposed to be at school…”
Allura locked herself in her office with Detectives Keith and Krolia Kogane. Technically, Krolia did not work in the police, she was an employee of a private agency — ‘Marmora’. But this particular murder case overlapped with her area of interest, and she'd been friends with Allura for a long time. So while the police were reluctant to share their data, Detective Kimberly believed that the more people involved now, the faster they would be able to unravel this tangle.
“We have three corpses and a man whose clothes are covered in their blood. But the most important thing is the weapon with his fingerprints. We have surviving family members. One of them accuses Lo- Mr. Anthony of all the sins. The second one claims the exact opposite. Facts: the suspect has no motive other than owning a joint foundation, and he was indeed a family friend.”
"The facts: he had the murder weapon on him," Keith added grimly.
"I know you want to close the case quickly, but there's no hurry," Allura told him, and looked at Krolia for support.
"Yes, Keith, the easiest thing to do is to put Mr. Anthony in jail right now," she agreed. “But let's keep in mind that he's a lawyer, and we'll get into trouble if we charge an innocent man."
“But think how well things have turned out for him! He was in the right place, a back alley next to his own house. He might have sent for Mr. Rolston on purpose.”
“But why would he kill his wife and son?" Allura objected.
“They could have been bystanders, just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or... he didn't want them to inherit the foundation.”
“That might be true if he was interested in money. But did you see his bank balance? He is, modestly speaking, well-off and without a foundation. No, Keith… it's something else. Is the phone call printout ready?” Allura asked, though she knew the answer.
"We're checking a couple of numbers, but I doubt we’ll find something.”
"Interviewing residents in the neighborhood of the crime scene?"
"Nothing yet.”
“What should I do?" Allura leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
More and more she believed the suspect and Luka, and less and less the obvious facts. She didn't have much time left. In a couple of hours, Lotor will be sent to the county jail.
"Honey, you should get some sleep," Krolia said, touching her hand gently.
“No. I need some coffee…”
"I'll get it," Keith said.
“Thank you!”
When the two women were alone, Krolia leaned over to Allura.
"Tell me, why are you so interested in this case?"
“What makes you think that?" Allura flushed.
"If it had been anyone else behind bars, he would have gone to jail long ago," Krolia said shrewdly.
“It's just… it doesn't fit. And I'm not…”
"Allura!” Keith burst into the office. “There… let's go!”
"Mr. Anthony, you are dismissed."
"Ah, what a relief…”
“I'm sorry. For your friends… It's such a tragedy.”
“Yes. Thanks.”
Allura paused uncomfortably.
“I hope you don't hold it against me, I was just doing my job… and…”
"I'm not angry," Lotor assured her. “I'm glad the killer's been caught. I warned Pollux that not everyone would like his idea. We live in the 21st century, but we are still full of hatred for those who are not like us.” He paused. “It is a pity that the imperfection of the system gives rise to monsters that are able to bite the hand that feeds them.”
“Now that the foundation is yours, could you be in danger, too?"
"Don't worry about me," Lotor smiled. “And about the foundation… I'll think about what to do with it.”
His personal belongings were returned to him, and after saying goodbye to Allura, he wandered towards the exit.
She caught up with him at the door. Luka was waiting for him there, ready to take him home.
"Mr. Anthony! Wait!”
“Anything else?" Lotor asked in surprise.
“Why didn't you just say you weren't guilty?"
"Because I am guilty. But not in the way that US justice understands it. I had to protect them. Pollux received threatening phone calls. But we didn't pay much attention. I didn't think much of it.”
“Mr. An-”
“Let's go back to first names, please? Two days ago, you called me Lotor.”
She smiled faintly. "Lotor, what happened wasn't your fault. Believe me. I've seen all sorts of things here. If you keep biting yourself for what happened- " she shook her head,"it won't do any good."
"Thank you for your advice, Allura.” He turned away again.
"Lotor?" she called again
“What is it?"
“It's not a good time, but… can I call you… later?"
“Of course. I am always at your service” He smiled at her and disappeared through the door.
"Oh, God," Allura breathed, covering her face with her hands. “He'll never agree to a second date after that."