Another Homicide

2

The City of Bridgeport suffered another homicide as the police department tried to reel

sanity into the worried citizens. It was almost useless, but essential, the witness resumes.

Witnesses gliding past one another beneath the washed-out glare of police lighting. The

detectives pulling out blank statement forms to record the next round of half truths. It was

almost like a ritual. The pages are collated, initialed, and signed. The stale coffee continued to be

served, filling Styrofoam cups. Broken cigarette butts filled cheap paper ashtrays, as smoke

filled the Congress Street interrogation room.

One woman shook violently when the detectives brought up prostitution.

" I can’t.." she paused.

" You can’t what?" asked the interviewing detective.

" I can’t tell you about that, I have children."

" We still need to hear it."

"Damn it! I got kids."

"We’re not going to judge you," said the other investigating detective. "We’re just

looking for answers."

"I can’t say anything more!"

"If you’re afraid, trust me, we’re not going to let anything happen to you," said a third

detective from the back of the room. " You need to tell us something."

What happened to Sadie Moore was brutal in its simplicity, simple in its brutality. The

stranger killed her and left her tied to the pole. It was if he wanted ghosts and spirits to attack her

without giving her spirit a chance to fight back. It was just brutal and sadistic. The detectives

wanted a quick end to the murder. They wanted to find him fast, for everyone’s sake.

"I’m not afraid of the killer," she mumbled.

"What?"

"I’m married!" she half-shouted.

"Married?"

"If my husband finds out that I was working the streets, he’d kill me," she explained.

" I’m so sorry about Sadie Moore, but I don’t need this kind of trouble in my life. I told that

to Detective Peter O’Brien when he picked me up. I told him I wasn’t going to be much help

to any of you guys."

"We need something," said the detective sitting closest to her. "Anything."

She lowered her head.

Two investigating detectives left the office to talk softly in the hallway.

" She’s more terrified of her f*****g husband," said the first detective.

" Yeah, I know," replied the second detective. "O’Brien wanted us to get some answers

from these witnesses, and we’re coming up empty."

" Do you think she knows something?"

" We gotta find out."

" How?"

" Lets just play it by ear," answered the second detective.

Both detectives walked back into the interrogation room and stared briefly at the

witness sitting in the chair.

"I’m sorry fellows," she sad softly.

" No you’re not!" shouted the second detective. "You’re not sorry!"

She looked shocked.

The detective moved closer to her throwing a finger into her face. "If you don’t tell us

what we need to know I’m going to tell your husband everything we know about you."

" You can’t do that!"

"Of course, and then we’ll arrest you for selling your f*****g a*s!"

"No!" she screamed.

"Get her out of here and call the papers, we want to make sure everybody she knows finds

out what’s she’s been doing," he shouted. " I want to show this w***e, no sympathy!"

" Rifleman," she shouted. " Sadie Moore’s pimp, he’s Rifleman."

" Is that his name?"

She nodded.

" Didn’t that guy work for Willie the Greek?" asked the third detective.

" Yeah, I think so," said the first detective. "Call O’Brien and tell him we may have a

lead. Tell him he may need to get Nick Barnum to talk to Willie for us. We need to find

Rifleman soon. His girl just got killed by a sadistic son of a b***h. He may want to get revenge.

And we can’t have that."

The third detective nodded and walked out of the room.