Oh Death (Chapter Four)

People turned to many different things to help them through their grieving processes. For mrs. Mandarin, her coping mechanism seemed to exist in her exaggerated fastidiousness. Her living room's velvety furniture showed signs of a recent and stringent vacuuming, and her hardwood floor gave off the cloying odor of too much pine-sol.

Alice watched as she sat across from them in an old, blue-cushioned chair. She wasn't sure if it was because of the thing's size or the woman's lack thereof, but it looked about ready to swallow her. She was wringing her hands nervously, the tips of her fingers were growing pale.

"We just have a few questions," Rick said quietly. Alice had to give it to him, he did the sympathetic role well. "Just covering our bases to make sure we haven't missed anything."

"I really don't have any information," she answered. The wringing grew more pronounced as she addressed her shining floor. "I can't make sense of it myself, why someone would just take my sweet boy and...and..."

She trailed off, covering suddenly trembling lips with a shaking hand. Alice remembered when they'd called her and her husband in to identify the body. They tried to minimize the grotesque look left by the mutilation, but it was hard when the eyes had been plucked out of the victim's head. Mrs. Mandarin had stood frozen over her son's corpse, white as a sheet, barely breathing. Alice only heard her wailing after her husband had escorted her out of the room. It had echoed down the hall and torn at her heart.

"You can't think of anyone that might have a grudge against you or mr. Mandarin? Anyone that might use your son as a means to get revenge?"

The woman pursed her lips as though she'd been deeply offended. "You keep asking that question like one of these times the answer will change. We've been upstanding members of this community for over ten years. We attend the local church, spend our Saturdays helping out at the open hands mission and we foster kittens for the local humane society." She was so livid at this point Alice thought the vein at her temple might pop. "Whoever did this to my baby was a maniac, plain and simple. No motive, no rhyme or reason. Just pure, unrelenting evil."

Rick was babbling something in response, trying to smooth things over, but it was lost on Alice. In her vehemence the angry, grieving mother had leaned forward, and two lovely looking pendants had fallen out of the front of her blouse. One of them shone iridescent and lovely, a square of polished mother-of-pearl. The other was silver, an intricate design of looping spirals hung on a chain. Alice's lips curved into a smile when she saw them, and she could hear her internal voice cry "bingo!"

"Pendant of Machu Picchu."

The ranting abruptly stopped. Mrs. Mandarin turned her head and stared at Alice. "I beg your pardon?"

"What you're wearing around your neck. I believe that one is supposed to ward off evil spirits. And the other one, it's an excalibur amulet right? Meant to give you safe haven in troubled times?"

The formerly wagging tongue had abruptly silenced. She glared at Alice from the confines of her big blue chair, fury creeping into her eyes. "What nonsense are you spewing?" She snapped.

"Is it well known that you're a believer in these sorts if charms?"

The lips were pursed again, going white. Alice ignored the feel of Rick's stare boring into the side of her face as she went on. "Mrs. Mandarin, it's distinctly possible that our killer saw your jewelry and picked your family because you were predisposed to these sorts of suspicions."

The color drained out of her face. For a moment she looked almost green in her cheeks, like she might be sick. Then tears filled her eyes. "Are you saying," she whispered, "that my baby might be dead because of my good luck charms?"

Alice made her tone gentler as she watched the emotional duress build. "No. I'm saying the psychopath we're after chose to pick on you out of a sick association with his own beliefs. It's not your fault, but it could be very important. Do you wear those necklaces frequently?"

She entangled twitching fingers into the chains, her throat constricting in a swallow as though at any moment they would tighten and strangle the life out of her. "Yes," she breathed. "Quite frequently."

"And can you recall at any time before your son's death someone taking a particular interest in them?"

Her face twisted with sorrow and grief. "No," she sputtered. "Nobody ever..."

The words cut off as she lurched forward, her entire form heaving in a fit of sobs. Babbled words poured out, choppy but decipherable enough to make Alice flinch. "All my fault. This is all my fault. Nothing good can come of partaking in these foul, pagan things. I've doomed our family..."

"What is the meaning of this?"

The voice made Alice jump, and if she wasn't mistaken, Rick too. Her eyes veered from the grieving mrs. Mandarin to her husband who now loomed in the arched entryway to their sitting room. Dressed in the tailored suit of a successful business man, he was an imposing, broad shouldered figure whose shock of silvering hair only gave him a sense of authority. He stared them down with piercing blue eyes and stepped further into the room, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. Judging by the way his fingers dug in, Alice doubted it was an entirely comforting gesture.

"I will not have you continue to come in here and upset my wife. We've done our fair share of cooperating, but now it's time for our due grieving. You will leave. Now."

Rick stood, holding up his hands in a show of placation. "We appreciate all the information you have given us, sir. We want to catch this killer just as much as you want them caught. We're on the same side."

He gestured for Alice to stand, and she all too readily complied. There was an aggressiveness coming from the former father that she didn't like. With one hand, he gestured jerkingly towards the hallway. "If you have need to speak with us again you'll call us down to the police station. I don't want you coming into our home again."

Rick conceded with a nod, grasping Alice lightly by the elbow and all but steering her out the door. As they passed over the porch, she spared a glance over her shoulder. It was too fast to be certain, but she saw the silhouetted profile of the couple, and watched as mrs. Mandarin recoiled as though she had been struck.