Who the hell killed Evelyn Long

The Detective

2

"I see," the detective says, eyeing me like a fish out of water, his chin doubles over under him and his eyes poke out from the top of his glasses.

If Eve has taught me anything, it's to not assume titles. Maybe I shouldn't label him the detective just yet, since he hasn't seemed to play the part very well.

"You're not just going to tell me the answer we all want to hear, correct?"

Man, I didn't think his eyebrow could go any higher, but it does. Eve wouldn't have been impressed with this guy at all.

"What exactly is it you want to hear? Because as far as I know you could just as well want to hear about what the last thing I had to eat was, or even-"

"Stop. Hold it right there," he frames me with his hands, which I hadn't expected, squinting even harder at me in my plastic white chair in this plastic white room. "That right there, is the face of the murderer everyone wants to see, you being a dick. That persona will get you the death penalty in this state my friend, Evelyn Long is dead, for real this time. And people want to blame somebody for everything that went down. Not even talking about the counts of breaking an entering, stealing, grand theft auto, identity theft, and let's see," he pauses, checks a fat folder, which I believe has nothing but gibberish and nonsense in it about us. And says, "a whole other count of murder, which will also fall on you."

This time, I swallow. I hadn't presumed they knew about that just yet.

"How long were you planning on running from the whole world?"

It takes me a moment to formulate my answer, my next move. What would Eve do?

"What month is it again?"

The detective shakes his head, It feels as if we've had this conversation before.

"I can't tell you the answer, because I don't have one. But if you really want to know who exactly killed Evelyn Long, than I can tell you our story. It's kind of long, but I need your promise that halfway through our story you won't slap handcuffs on my wrists. Because what I'm about to tell you I. Haven't told anyone else. Ever."

This time it's me, leaning forward in the plastic chair to look him dead in his little eyes.

"You know how much your asking of me right now?" He dribbles, interested. Behind his suit, and double chin, is a human that's never experienced the truth about the world, and I have that key to show him.

"That's a yes right? Because what I'm offering you will help you apprehend the criminals of at least ten different crimes across the states." I say carelessly, I knew at some point, and Eve knew that some day this information would save my life. Maybe that's why she chose me.

The detective, now more curious that before, says, "Do you mind if we record this then." And he smiles, ugly, smiles. Because it's not a question, from now on, this confession is taped.

I clear my voice.

"Shall we begin then?"