Chapter 2 MURDERER

The interrogation room was freezing, it reeked of disinfectant, the smell burning into my eyes.    I sat at a metal table, my cuffed hands resting in my lap. The detective in front of me hadn't said a word, he hadn't introduced himself, he simply brought out a note pad and stared at me.    "Tell me exactly what happened." He finally said after a brief silence that felt like years. "Sir, I already told the officers." I said shakily. "Do I look like the officers you spoke to? Tell me again." He said, his lips immediately curving into a frown.    I swallowed hard. "Sorry sir, I woke up at around 11:55, and..." "And what?" He said, writing in his note pad. "And the man was still in the bed asleep."    "Did you know him?" "No sir." I said immediately. "So you expect me to believe you spent the night with a man you didn't know?" He said, a dry laugh escaping his mouth.    Tears stung my eyes, "I didn't know his name sir." "Well, his name was Adrian Graves."    He brought a folded newspaper out and pushed it across the table. "He's the headliner." I opened it, the man in the headline was older than I expected, he was fitted in an expensive looking suit and wore a confident smile. Then I noticed something, his jaw. I recognized the jaw under the mask immediately.    My stomach dropped. "That's him." "Exactly, and you were alone with him." The detective said, pulling back the newspaper. "Yes I was." I said hesitantly.    "So you were with him all night, yes?" "Yes." I whispered. "But I didn't kill him, I swear."    He just stared at me blankly. "Tell me about The Red Velvet." I paused, "I work there." I said blankly, I didn't like that question.    "What goes on there?" He asked, scribbling in his note pad. "It's just a private club." I said looking down at my hands.    He looked up at me. "That's not what I asked." I didn't respond, how could I?   "Miss Jasmine, you're twenty five years old, right?" "Right." I said looking up.    "How long have you worked there?" "Three years sir." "Good, that means you know enough about the place." "No, no, not really." I said hesitantly.   "Sir, please I swear I didn't know who he was." I begged. "Let me tell you, Adrian Graves was a loved and respected man." I stared at him, confused. "He was also the top candidate in the mayoral election." I froze, I had heard that name before, everyone in the city had.    Adrian Graves was everywhere on Television, he gave speeches about refining the city, creating jobs and making Blackridge safe. The people truly loved him and I had woken up next to his lifeless body.    "I didn't know, I swear," I whispered. "You didn't know who your client was?" He asked, "No sir." "Why was he wearing a mask, Jasmine?" He asked, his eyes scanning my face for answers. "I don't know."    He took a deep breath, "Who arranged the meeting?" "My Aunt Mika." "She owns the Red Velvet?" "Yes sir." I said quietly.    "Did Graves have anything to eat or drink while he was there?" I remembered the glass, "yes he did, he had a drink waiting for him in the room." "What kind?" God, how was I supposed to know that? "I'm not sure, but it was something alcoholic." I remembered because his mouth reeked of alcohol.    The detective opened another page and mumbled something as he wrote. "Evidence suggests Graves was poisoned." I froze immediately, "wait what? I didn't poison him." "Well you were the only one alone with him." He said smugly. "But I didn't do anything." I said, tears welling in my eyes.    "Your finger prints are everywhere Jasmine." Is this man kidding me? "Of course they are, I worked there." He laughed dryly. "Your finger prints were on Graves' shoulder." "Sir, I was only trying to wake him up." The detective dropped his pen and watched me carefully, "what happened when you realized he was dead?" "I tried calling for help, but the police came in." He didn't say anything.    He rested his shoulders on the metal table and opened a white file. "Mika White gave a statement today." I froze, how did Aunt Mika already give a statement? Was she here at the police station?   "What did she say?" I asked hurriedly. "She said you were the only person with Graves the whole night." "Yes that's true, but..." "she also said you knew exactly who he was." He said cutting me off. My heart broke instantly "What? She's lying." He raised an eyebrow "why would she lie?"    "I'm not.. I'm not sure." I stammered. My mind instantly went to the money she had been counting while I was being taken away.    Did she frame me? I immediately pushed the thought away, she couldn't, Aunt Mika wouldn't do that to me.    The interrogation lasted thirty more minutes before they took me to court. The small court room was packed, the jury whispered as I walked in. I sat beside my appointed attorney, with my head down trying to avoid the stares of the jury.    The prosecutor stood, he glanced at me briefly. "Your Honor, given the countless evidence proving the defendant guilty, the defendant should be detained, until proven otherwise."    I gasped quietly, he was talking about me like I was some kind of criminal, a murderer. I pinched my palms, trying to knee my hands from shaking.    "The state requests bail of fifty thousand dollars." The judge announced.    The amount echoed in my head, fifty thousand.    I didn't even have a thousand, all the money I made has gone into Liza's treatment and paying Aunt Mika back.    I turned to look at my attorney with pleading eyes, "We object that amount, Your Honor." He said.    The prosecutor immediately jumped up, "Your Honor, Adrian Graves was an influential public figure and his death shouldn't be taken lightly."    The Judge listened carefully and finally said " Bail is set at fifty thousand dollars." Tears welled in my eyes immediately, there was no way I could pay that.    My attorney looked at me and mouthed "We'll request another hearing, don't worry." I nodded absently, I knew there was nothing we could do.    I thought about Liza, I was meant to see her today, she's probably waiting for me, alone. She had no idea what was happening and Aunt Mika definitely wasn't there.    As the guards led me away, reports yelled questions at me "Why did you murder Adrian Graves?" "Did you poison him?" "Tell us what happened ma'am."    I kept my head down, trying to hide my tears. Why is this happening to me?   The guards led me to a cold cell and reality settled harshly on me.    I wasn't going home tonight and I didn't even know when I would go home. I was going to jail for a murder I didn't commit.