In the Dark

The Interview

Interview Transcript

Audio: Reed.mp4

April 23, 2001

I: Thank you for agreeing with another interview, Reed. I hope it wasn't a problem for you.

Sure. I can't seem to remember it though. Where did we stop last time?

I: Your uncle's death. You were talking about him.

Ah yes, that's right. You were asking me about him. I think I was telling you how I knew he was dead.

I: Yes, and you said you found him lifeless on the floor?

Yes, but at that time I didn't know he was dead. There was barely a sign when I got home.

There was no blood.

The windows were closed. His body was facing down on the floor and for some time, I didn't bother to check if he was still breathing. He usually went home drunk anyway, so him lying down was not such an unusual scene.

When the morning came, a rotten smell woke me up, and his body [inaudible 1:05] ... my uncle's body, remained in the same position, unmoving and perfectly still.

That was how I found out.

It was probably my scream, but the next thing I knew, our neighbors were flocking at the door.

That whole day passed by in almost a blur. I could vaguely recall the police and the men in white clothes, taking my father's body into the wailing ambulance. They didn't even try to revive him anymore. I guess there was no point.

When they got the autopsy results, they immediately informed me, but I didn't understand half of what they were saying. Something about "foul play," a woman whispered in my ear. She probably sensed my confusion.

Her name was Mrs. Smith, or at least that's what they called her. She told me that the culprit of my uncle's death was a poison. They initially thought it was drug overdose as my uncle was sort of a pothead. She said he was lucky to have even survived a day.

Mrs. Smith then asked me what my uncle was doing that day. I told her that he was at work, and that I didn't know anything else. It was true though. I didn't know. Sometimes, he was out gambling. Sometimes, he was out with women. He never really cared to tell me.

The policemen immediately set out an investigation after that. Days had flipped into months sooner than I realized. I had moved out of the house, and the social workers had packed my things. Sometimes Mrs. Smith would visit me in the orphanage. She had kept me updated, but her updates were next to nothing. They said they could hardly find a lead.

It was just hopeless, she told me, and whoever did it must have been a clever one. But I don't know.

Maybe they were just a pack of dimwits.

Even back then, I could not find it in myself to simply accept it. It's not that I loved him so much. It's just I hated people dying on me. I would be an orphan again. I would do the same things again.

I didn't want to accept it.

Perhaps, not at that moment. Not even five years after.

I: So you set out to seek justice?

Justice. Vengeance. What's the difference?

I: How did you do it then? How did you plan it?

What I needed was information. Lots of it. The first place I went to was the police station that handled his case. They were strict about it and I thought I was going to have a hard time. It turned out to be a fairly easy task.