The Perfect Crime

Chapter 22: BLACK WIDOW

The female black widow spider, scientifically known as the Latrodectus, is well known for it's habit of killing and eating it's mate right after mating.
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When Rukelle died, the first person she wanted to meet in the afterlife —if it even existed— was the architect who designed the Boston Police Headquarters. She wanted to give that man —or woman— a piece of her mind. Who in their right senses designed stairs so steep, windows so high and a ceiling so low? It was good that another headquarters was being constructed because they were working on borrowed time with this place.

Rukelle checked her watch: 9:15 a.m. She was late. And it was not the fashionable kind of late. It was the kind where your car broke down and you ended up taking a cab and then the cab broke down and so you had to walk the rest of the distance. Rukelle didn't bother going to her office first. She went straight to the conference room for the morning debrief.

The conference room of the Boston Police Headquarters was a huge white room with a water spotted ceiling and cracked linoleum floors. Currently, it was filled with a number of overworked cops from the Boston Police Department. Most of them were chatting amongst themselves, no doubt commenting on Rukelle's tardiness. The few wise ones were getting in a few extra minutes of shut-eye.

Rukelle pushed the door open with so much force that it hit the wall, waking up the sleeping cops. Everyone in the room looked at Rukelle and scowled. They were most certainly pissed that Rukelle, the primary investigator of the case, was late.

Rukelle raised her hands to quiet down the noise. "I know I am late but I am not going to glorify y'all with an apology. My partner, on the other hand, sends his apologies. He is currently chasing down an important lead so he won't be able to make it. That being said, let's get down to business."

"Yeah let's do that." Detective Chris Levinson, the golden boy of the police force, shouted. Rukelle eyed him. He was an attractive man no doubt about that, with his chiseled jaw and golden hair. The form-fitting uniform he wore accentuated his muscles, giving him a brawny appearance. His appearance wasn't the problem. His character was. Chris noticed Rukelle glaring at him and smirked. Cocky bastard.

Rukelle cleared her throat. "In our midst, we have two members from the Federal Bureau of Investigation —Special Agents Vince Gilligan and Quinn Coppola. They have been tasked with dealing with the mass grave that was discovered in the forest.  Let's hear from them first."

Vince stood up from his seat and cleared his throat before saying, "Owing to the fire in the forest, we don't have much to report. But on a preliminary basis, the grave is a shallow one. About one and a half feet deep as opposed to the required six feet of a standard grave. We suspect that there are more graves scattered around the forest. So right after this meeting we shall be heading back to the forest to do more investigating. We cannot comment on the number of bodies discovered as of yet but you will be notified as soon as we have an accurate number. Thank you." Vince sat.

"Alright. Anyone of you with anything to report regarding Thelma?" Rukelle spread out her hands, indicating that the floor was open.

Detective Arthur, an old sinewy cop with a soft paunch and thinning grey hair, stood up. He looked nervous and he kept fumbling with his belt like he was trying to decide whether to be a cowboy or not.

"Last night, I responded to a call from a woman who claimed to have seen Thelma Louise in one of the toilets in the subway station. When I reached there, the woman who called was as high as a kite and she couldn't even pronounce her own name correctly. We are keeping her in one of the cells and we shall have a go at her again after this meeting."