MONALISA (CHAPTER 10)
I was in total shock, could not do nor say nothing to her. One thing with detectives is that you can never tell them otherwise even if you are wrongly accused. They create a story and make you believe it like you don’t have a choice after all. In my case, Monalisa had her own analogy that it wasn’t just a coincidence possessing a gun that killed her boyfriend and still met at the bank. She alleged that I had been spying on her for quite long and that I knew more than enough. Well, that was her story, a story she created to answer the so many life questions, I didn’t blame her though, that was her job and perhaps trying to find her deceased boyfriend’s killer.
I bet being a cop is the hardest of all careers. Not that I loathe them but I know myself. Imagine me as a police officer, I bet everyone in my neighborhood could have been behind the bars by now, for instance my neighbor Ian. He is an Arsenal FC fan, every time the new season kicks he tweets and retweets that “This is our season.” Me as a cop would be on him every season like, “You are under arrest, you have the right to remain silent for anything you say and tweet can and will never happen.” Just like that. It’s a profession that requires a lot of self-control, proper anger management and high level of tolerance.
Silence sometimes is the best answer, I hear so. I just remained silent and maintained that I needed an attorney, who in the real sense wasn’t a necessity at the moment. She was really trying to get answers, the fiercer she thought she was the more desperate I saw her. She looked broken and tired, definitely needed a shoulder to lean on. As a psychology student (I dropped out in my third year) I think I saw a lot. Her juniors were outside waiting for her to come out with the best results, they believed in her, while inside the grilling room she felt so fragile, that is the moment I wished we were on the same page but neither of us could cross so easily. She’d soon leave without a word, what followed was through dismantling of my jawbones and ankles, I was hit so hard that I had to let ‘masculinity toxic’ roll out as I wailed on top of my voice till they stopped. Therefore, I take back my words, silence isn’t the best answer.
After a week I underwent a polygraph test whose results remained disclosed for the whole period. It was just a matter of days before I was brought before Judge Nolan. The most loved and hated judge in equal measure in history. Unverified sources back in the remand had it that he only showed his teeth while brushing and never took complements even from colleagues. His posture and height alone were already intimidating, he naturally had a hoarse voice. He attended the army two years before joining the law school and was sent to a mission in Afghan where he lost his dearest friend. That was the judge that would handle my case. Before then, I went for the last check, the psychiatric examination. I just hope Monalisa didn’t include the gun in her investigations. Not that I was economical with my answers but I had nothing to say about it, it’s a gun that I had bought down town, I didn’t even see the face of the guy who sold it to me since he had mask and a black jacket. He or she didn’t see mine either. I saw the sense in the nature of that business.
