Chapter 11

It was now 4:00 p.m. and the coroner van was just leaving, carrying away the deceased man in a body bag. The knife had been carefully taken out of his chest and was also in the van to be checked for prints, but Mark had a feeling whose prints were on it but just wanted to make sure.

Mark and Francis were now sitting in the bedroom talking to the woman whose name they had found out was Josephine Burke.

Most of the blood was off her light blue dress and hands, but some stains were still showing. It looked like Josephine could have killed the man and Mark hadn't ruled out that possibility.

"So tell me Josephine," started Mark.

The two detectives were sitting on two wooden green chairs while Josephine sat on the bed far away from the book and suitcase as if she didn't want to touch it.

The bedroom floor was carpeted with a large fluffy white carpet, but it seemed that Josephine didn't care that the two detectives were sort of dirtying it with their shoes.

Behind the bed was a large window with green and white striped curtains drawn. The window was about four metres smaller than the one in the Rhinert's main room, which also gave a beautiful view of Lake Couchiching. A small mustard coloured chest of drawers stood beside the large window and a large closet up in front of the bed. The table that held the blue vase of red roses was on the left side of the bed and the walls were painted with a deep blue that made the brightly coloured air fresheners stand out in the room.

"Please call me Josie," said Josephine, "everyone calls me Josie."

"Alright, Josie, where were you before you arrived and found the man dead on your floor?"

"I was staying with my friend Beretta for a week because I hadn't seen her in many years. And that man's my husband, detective, well, used to be."

Josephine had a light British accent and every word that she said flowed out beautifully as if they were tied together by a string.

"What do you mean?" asked Mark, confused.

"Well, as you can see, that b*****d cheated on me!" cried Josephine, pointing to the suitcase.

"You mean to tell me that this wasn't what the bedroom looked like before and that's not your suitcase?" asked Mark.

Josephine shook her head.

"I'm not a clean freak, I hate red roses, and I've never seen that book in this house," said Josephine, as she pointed to the book of Great Expecations.

"What is your husband's name may I ask?" asked Mark.

 He was talking very calmly to her, to not make her seem that she was being interrogated.

"Bill Burke."

"And would you have any idea who might have killed her?"

"The b***h who stayed here."

Mark was getting impatient.

"And do you have an idea who that could be?"

Josephine shook her head.

"Thank you Josie and I'm so sorry about your loss."

"Do you know who killed my husband?" demanded Josephine.

"I have an idea," replied Mark.

"Would you care to tell me?"

"I’m sorry Josie, but that's classified information."

"Why do detectives have to always be so mysterious," muttered Josephine. "My husband died, for Christ sake!"

"Did you by chance happen to know Sandra and Lucifer Rhinert?" asked Francis, trying to drop the subject.

"Them? Of course, they're like one of the richest people in Orchard Park. Do you think his wife fucked and killed my husband?" demanded Josephine sternly.

Francis and Mark didn't say anything, but Josephine had already come up to her own conclusion.

"That b***h! I'll kill her!" she cried as she threw the red suitcase on the floor.

"That won't be necessary," said Francis. "Given the fact, that she was murdered."