Detective Hatcher and two uniformed police officers slid the bed out of the way and she went to work. Hatcher felt all over the hardwood floor for anything raised, anything suspicious at all, but nothing appeared out of order.
"The floor looks brand new, doesn't it?" Hatcher sat back on her knees. "Crowbar."
A police officer handed her the crowbar and Hatcher pounded at the floor, chipping away hardwood and splitting slats. She soon found a lock box cemented in the old floor underneath. Hatcher beat on the lock until it broke and she opened the door.
* * * *
"Time to fess up, Elliot." Detective Hatcher slammed the shoe box down on the table.
"What's that?" Mr. Hennigan sat back in his seat. The chain that secured him to the table rolled off and dangled in the air. His wrists were sore and raw so he massaged them as he glared at the old box before him.
"Your games got old a long time ago, Elliot. We know what you're in to. We know what you like." Hatcher opened the shoe box and poured the panties on the table. "These fit young girls, all the way down to three years old."
"No. I, I...no. No!"
"I wonder whose DNA we're gonna lift off these, Elliot? Did you rape all these little girls?"
"No! I would've never done that! You gotta believe me!"
"What then?" Hatcher sat down across from Mr. Hennigan and softened her tone. She wanted to get personal with him, so she slid close into the table and leaned in. "Explain all this, Elliot. Why do you have kiddie underwear in a box, in a damn safe, hidden under the floor?"
"It's not what you think!" It's not! I swear!" He sobbed uncontrollably. "They won't find any DNA from girls. I bought them off the rack!" He cried. "I bought them off the rack and for a while I used them when I wanted, then tossed them in that box. It...it was like a phase or something. I don't know what it was that came over me. But my...my daughter had these little friends that would always wear skimpy clothes. The shorts they wore? They couldn't even be described as shorts! And they were always on social media, dancing and doing all kinds of things in front of me...and one day I was shopping and walked past the little girl's section and saw the panties and they reminded me of her friends. So I figured, why not? It's not like there's going to be a victim. No one ever had to know. And I would use them, then toss them in that box. But I quit doing that years ago! I swear it! You had to rip through the hardwood floor to get to it, right? I had that installed five years ago."
"So you got your rocks off by buying kiddie underwear and thinking about your daughter's underage friends? Let's say I believe you, and you actually bought these off the rack. None of this looks good for you, pal. You're accused of rape and murder. And now with this? I see a pattern of deviance...and now escalation. It's not farfetched to think you got some kind of pedo thing in your mind for Miss Croft. Let's be real. She's a tight, young, built in all the rights places, nineteen-year-old that kind of looks younger than what she really is."
"Can I ask you a question, detective?"
"How on Earth did you even know to look for this? No one, not one person on this planet, knows about this but me."
"A little birdie."
Mr. Hennigan sat back and exhaled. "Little birdie? No...no, no, no. How could she have known? That doesn't make sense."
"What are you going on about?"
"Your little birdie? It's Ella Croft, isn't it? How the fuck could she have known about any of this? She only started working for us a few years ago! We installed the new floor years before we ever knew her name!"
"You must have let it slip when you were raping her." Hatcher used the top of the shoe box to slide the panties back in, then walked away.
"How did she know? How? I never told her anything! It doesn't make sense!"
"What doesn't make sense is why you would rape someone. What doesn't make sense is why you would kill a little boy!"
"I DIDN'T DO IT!"
"Then why were you over there?"
"To apologize!"
"Apologize for what?"
"For...for hurting her!"
"For raping her?"
"I wanted to apologize for being so rough on her! She's a great sitter and my daughter loves her to death. I wanted to make sure we were okay, so I went to apologize for...for what could be perceived as...rape, I guess."
"You raped Miss Croft, then went to the Garfield's brownstone to apologize. What a stand-up guy. Then what?"
"That's what she said. She also thought it was ridiculous. Then she slammed the door in my face and I got in the car and drove my daughter to her recital. I was there the entire time. I never even got up to go take a piss. You've gotta believe me!"
Hatcher walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.
"Progress." Jerico took the box from Hatcher and tucked it under his arm. He had been watching the entire time from the other side of the two way mirror. "What you thinking?"
"I'm thinking this guy is a disgusting perv slash rapist...but not a kid killer. His alibi is airtight, and his story hasn't changed one letter since we started. Lies change. Not Truths."
Michael exhaled. "So the perv didn't kill the kid. Who did? What? What's that look on your face for?"
"There's one person we haven't even vetted yet because she has hole in her stomach."
"Ella? No, that's crazy. The girl was left for dead."
"On a first name basis with the vic, already? That's fast, even for you."
"Don't start your shit, alright?"
"All I'm saying is, the only other person at the crime scene was the babysitter. Never mind the FACTS, right? His prints weren't on the knife and we haven't found a trace of blood in his car, in his home, or anywhere else. We need to look into the babysitter."
YOU ARE READING
The Last Babysitter | Requiem
ParanormalWhen Ella Croft was nine years old, a horrible car wreck changed her life forever. It was then that the Demon known as Pan came to her and offered her a deal. Pan would see that Ella's father, the man that had abused her since she was born, would su...
