153 comments/ 305801 views/ 112 favorites A Circumstantial Case By: A Circumstantial Case "Here are several good recent photos, detective. Take your pick." She had returned to her seat on the sofa, and the detective sat beside her as she opened the album. The last page in the book contained several very good photos for his purposes, with perhaps the best one including Mark's wife standing to his right, while a tall, well-built, sandy haired man stood close by to his left. "This one would be good," said the detective as he indicated the group photograph. "We can crop out you and this other fellow." A couple of seconds later the detective selected another photo, a very good head and shoulders shot of Mark Evans. "These two photos will be more than sufficient for our needs." When Lisa had removed the two photos from the book and handed them to the detective, he took another look at them and asked, "Would the fellow in this photo with you and your husband be a relative of his? If he has a sibling or parent available for providing a DNA sample, it might be helpful if they can't get anything usable from the razor or toothbrush." Lisa quickly replied, "No, that's Blake Moore. He's my husband's best friend, since grade school. My husband doesn't have any relatives who live near here." After thanking her for the photos, Detective Nesbitt went out to join the others in the garage. He left Lisa sitting at her kitchen table looking forlorn and on the verge of tears. He was beginning to think that he felt sorry for the woman, and the position she was now in. Her husband was missing, and may or may not have been involved in a serious shooting. The fact that she didn't know he was even in town, though, made the detective wonder what exactly was going on. The detectives, along with their two forensics experts, soon concluded the search of the garage and car. It was while the technicians were carefully going over Lisa's car that they noticed something potentially important, and certainly suspicious. Both the accelerator and brake pedal showed staining by what turned out to be blood, when it was tested chemically. It was immediately decided that the car would be towed back to the garage for extensive examination and testing. While the two technicians packed up their equipment, and prepared to leave, the two detectives stepped aside to discuss their feelings about the case. Detective Nesbitt, standing so that he could look back at the side door of the Evans house, said to his partner, "What's your opinion of Mrs. Evans? I've been back and forth in my thoughts about her, and this positive test for blood on the pedals in her car really has me wondering." "Well, you have the advantage on me, as regards Mrs. Evans. I've just been here for the search. She seemed like a typical worried wife, but you know how that kind of thing can go. Right now I wouldn't want to put money on whether she's involved in something here, or is simply what she seems to be." Nesbitt suddenly started walking towards the side door, saying as he went, "Come with me, Dave. Let's both see how she reacts when we tell her about the blood we found, and that her car is being towed." The two detectives walked up to the side door, knocked, and entered. Lisa Evans was on her cell phone, and looked very startled when the two men stepped into the kitchen. She quickly turned off the phone, without even saying a word to whoever was on the other end of the conversation. "You're back! I thought that you were all finished here." Peter Nesbitt stepped aside, so that his partner would have an equal opportunity to observe Lisa Evans. "We thought we were done here, too. However, the forensics technicians have found what appear to be smears of blood on both the brake pedal and accelerator of your car. Where taking your car to the impound lot so that we can give it a thorough inspection. I hope you don't mind." Lisa appeared genuinely shocked when she said, "Blood in my car! How would that get there? I didn't see any blood anywhere." The two detectives were watching her closely, as he replied, "That's a question we're likely going to want an answer to. We have no way to know at this time whether it's related to the incident in the park, but if it turns out to be a match for the blood found there, you can be sure we're going to insist on some answers. Oh, and we're going to need the shoes that you were wearing today." "I wasn't anywhere near the park. I haven't been there in weeks. I don't see how there could be blood in my car; certainly not any of the blood that you described was in my husband's car." As she was speaking she reached down and removed the shoes she was wearing, handing them to Detective Nesbitt. When that was done she slumped in her seat, covered her face with her hands, and began sobbing. The two detectives, realizing that there wasn't very much more they could say or do without more information, said goodbye to her, leaving her in the same position, slumped in her kitchen chair. "What do you think, Dave? Is she what she seems; a wife worried sick about her husband? Or do you think that maybe she's just a very good actress? Did you notice that she was on the phone when we walked in, and hung up on whoever it was?" David Klein shook his head and said, "I just don't know Pete, I just don't know. She seems genuine enough, but you know how these things go. If the blood in his car turns out to be the husband's, there's a good chance his spouse is involved. We see that over and over. Maybe we should make some background checks on this couple; talk to their friends and neighbors. Somebody may know something that is relevant to this whole business. As for the phone call, she was probably talking to her best girlfriend. Women always seem to turn to their best girlfriend when things go wrong." "Yeah, I guess you're right. Some good old-fashioned digging just might lead somewhere. What I'd really like to find out is why he came into town two days earlier than expected. That might be the key to this whole thing." When he got to his car, Detective Nesbitt pulled out a plastic evidence bag, slipped in the pair of shoes, and firmly sealed the bag. Since the two partners had arrived separately, each had his own car. As they drove back to the station, each in his own solitude, they individually tried to figure out the clues they had so far been presented with. Unfortunately, neither of them had enough to go on to come up with anything better than what they had already discussed. Both of them were busy completing reports and other paperwork until the end of their shift. No new information had come up from the lab before they departed for their homes, so the two of them were left to consider only what they had already learned during that day. +++++++++++++ The next morning both Peter and Dave arrived a half an hour early. It was obvious that the Mark Evans case was high on both of their agendas. Fortunately their dedication to their jobs was rewarded; a stack of reports from the forensics department and the medical examiner were there to greet them. It took them an hour to read the reports, passing them back and forth between each other as they digested the information that was being presented. After they finished what had been waiting there for them, they both realized that there were still going to be a number of further reports to come. As he looked over one particular report, Peter Nesbitt said to his partner, "These certainly seem to be pointing in one direction, don't they? Is seems there are a few more reports we can expect this morning, though, so I don't think we should jump on this too quickly. I'd rather not go off half cocked." David Klein was nodding his head as his partner spoke, and replied, "I think you're right. Let's see if they can get some more out of the computer. We could go out in the meantime and talk to his lawyer, and some of the people that he worked with. I'm not certain that we have enough for an arrest yet. We're going to need to take some official statements as well, before we talk to the DA." The two men were in complete agreement, and left just after 9 a.m. for the office of Mark Evans' lawyer. Like all members of the legal community, Robert Graham didn't want to seem to be biased against the police, especially during an investigation. He quickly gave them a few minutes of his time. "You realize that I can't discuss anything pertaining to my client's legal situation? That said, let's hear what you want from me, so that I can decide whether or not to answer your questions." The lawyer leaned back in his chair and waited expectantly. Detective Nesbitt quickly spoke, not wanting to waste too much of the lawyer's valuable time. "We have several email messages here, messages that we obtained under a search warrant from Mark Evans' computer. Could you please confirm receipt of them for us? We simply need to know that the messages were actually sent to you over the past couple of weeks. We want to be sure they weren't just draft copies." He proceeded to hand over four sheets of paper to the lawyer, who quickly glanced at each of them, before he replied, "These do appear to be genuine. I can confirm receipt of each of them." He handed them back to the detective who immediately stood and said, "Thank you, Mr. Graham. That's all we need. We couldn't very well make investigative decisions based on what these emails tell us, without some confirmation that they were genuine." The two detectives left the office, exchanging a smile as they headed back to their car. As they drove to ABC Industrial Peter Nesbitt said to his partner, "Like you said yesterday, in situations like this it's usually the spouse that's involved. We've still got a few more bridges to cross, though." When they arrived at Mark Evans' place of employment, the two detectives were quickly shown into the office of his immediate superior. This time it was Detective Klein who did the speaking. "We're investigating the discovery of a car in George Washington Park yesterday. You probably read about it in this morning's paper. The car involved belonged to one of your employees, Mark Evans. We have a few questions that you may be able to help us with." Mark's boss quickly assured them that he would do anything he could to help them out. He said that Mark was considered a very valuable employee, and anything that could be done to help solve the mystery of his abandoned car was most certainly acceptable. "First, I'd like to know whether Mark was expected to stay in Pittsburgh past Friday evening. There are some reports that he was scheduled for seminars throughout Saturday and Sunday. We need to know if that's correct." His boss quickly replied, "Mark was most definitely not scheduled for anything on the weekend. I fully expected that he would have returned on Friday night." Detective Klein nodded, made a note in his notebook, and continued, "Have you noticed anything about Mark that seemed a little off lately? We're wondering if he seemed to have something on his mind, something that stood out." The man sitting at the desk thought for a moment, and then replied, "Mark did seem to be carrying more weight on his shoulders lately. A couple of weeks ago, I asked him if there was a problem. At the time he said that everything was fine. I also noticed that he seemed to be lost in thought a lot of the time. I just assumed that he was hard at work, solving our problems, but I guess he could have had other things on his mind." The detectives thanked him, and then they quickly headed back to their car. A picture was taking shape, and both of them knew that by the end of the day there was a good chance that they would have made a major dent in this case. By late morning they were back in the office, and discovered that some preliminary DNA results had returned. As well, there was a strange looking little box with wires dangling from it, sitting on the top of a report from forensics. The two detectives found it particularly interesting, especially when combined with some of the printed maps the computer technician had given them. Another blank had been filled in, and a picture was becoming clearer. The two men took their accumulated information, printouts and notebooks with them when they went to spend a couple of hours in one of the empty interrogation rooms. By the time they emerged they felt they had a pretty good handle on what had happened in the park, although there were some very large gaps still remaining. They did agree it was time to make another visit to Lisa Evans. This time they felt they had enough information to ask her some hard questions. Depending on the answers they received, there might be cause to bring her in for an official statement. The detectives pulled up outside the Evans residence at just after three in the afternoon. They hadn't phoned ahead, for fear of letting her prepare for their arrival. They really wanted to catch her off guard. They went to the front door and rang the doorbell like any normal visitor would. Lisa Evans did appear to be startled when she saw the two of them standing at the door. "Detectives! Have you found my husband? I've been phoning the desk sergeant every couple of hours, and he keeps telling me that there's nothing to report." Detective Nesbitt responded, "No, we haven't found your husband yet. We have made some progress, though. We'd like to come in and ask you a few questions, if you don't mind." Lisa Evans seemed a bit confused, but then stepped back and said, "Certainly, come on in; I'll do anything I can do to help you find Mark." She walked into the living room with the two men following close behind her. As she sat on the sofa, each of the detectives took a seat in one of the chairs facing it. Detective Klein began the conversation, after opening his notebook, by asking, "Is there anything you care to tell us about your relationship with Blake Moore?" The two detectives had decided that asking this very much 'in your face' type of question might be the way to rattle Lisa Evans enough to make her reveal something she might otherwise prefer to keep hidden. The decision was immediately rewarded, when Lisa Evans quickly turned white before saying, "Wha... What do you mean, my relationship with Blake? He's my husband's best friend. He's always hanging out with Mark, but he's just my friend." Her eyes darted back and forth between the two detectives. Detectives Nesbitt now joined in, "Are you, or are you not, having an affair with Blake Moore?" The detective had asked the question in a calm, level fashion, and now sat waiting for a response. It hardly seemed possible, but both detectives later agreed that it seemed she became even paler with the second question. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly several times before she said, "Absolutely not! How can you come in here, asking me that kind of question?" The two detectives immediately stood, and Detective Klein said, "I think you're going to have to come down to the station. We're going to take an official statement from you." Lisa was clearly beginning to panic now, as she said, "What? Am I under arrest? Why do I have to go down to the station with you?" "You aren't under arrest... yet. We have reason to believe you haven't been truthful with us, and we want to get an official statement from you. You'll be able to request a lawyer if you wish." Lisa was frantically looking back and forth from one detective to the other and quickly said, "I don't need a lawyer! I haven't done anything. If you want me to come to the station for your questions, then fine, I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes to help you find my Mark." Lisa Evans quickly got up to accompany the two detectives out to their car for the trip downtown. She was walking in front of them so she didn't notice when Pete gave Dave the thumbs up signal. After helping her into the back seat, the two men took their places in the front and then drove silently back to the police station. After arriving back at the station, the detectives slowly walked Lisa Evans upstairs to their squad room, and then into one of the empty interrogation rooms. They chose the starkest one they could find, a room that needed a paint job and could have used some new furniture as well. They wanted the most negative environment they could create. "We're going to have you wait here for a few minutes, while we get our files together. You're sure that you don't want to speak with a lawyer?" Detective Nesbitt was giving her every opportunity to make that decision, but this time she declined with a quick shake of her head. In the drab surroundings she still looked very pretty, even though her blue eyes were brimming with tears. She sat down heavily in one of the chairs, while the detective left the room, closing the door behind him. "Be sure both cameras are on for the full time we're with her. I want a good record of everything that is said in there. I have a feeling we're going to break this case wide open, and I don't want to lose a word of what she has to say." Detective Klein was speaking to his commanding officer, the man who would record and bear personal witness to what was said in the interrogation room. Just then Peter Nesbitt walked up with the files they had accumulated. He had been thinking about their pending interview with Lisa Evans, and said, "Let's go grab a coffee first; let her stew a while." There was quick agreement, and the three men left to spend the next 20 minutes in the staff coffee room discussing the case and how they would handle her interrogation. ++++++++++ Life does not take place in a single linear progression; innumerable events occur in overlapping time frames. While the two detectives were out that morning, speaking with Mark Evans' manager, on the other side of town a volunteer answered the phone at Crimestoppers. "Good morning, this is your local Crimestoppers office. We pay up to $1000 cash for good tips on outstanding crimes. How can you help us fight crime? Please be aware this call is being recorded." There was no reply for several seconds, making the volunteer manning the phone think there was no one there, but just before she hung up, her older male caller said, "Ah... is this the place where I can get money if I help the police?" "Well sir, that depends on what you tell us, the type of crime involved, and how much the police feel you contributed to solving it. Do you have some information on a crime?" There was silence again for a few moments before the caller spoke, "So, I don't get no money now? I gotta wait? What if the cops want to cheat me out of my money? Then what, huh?" "Well sir, we need to know for sure that you helped. The money doesn't come from the police, so there's no reason for them to try to cheat you, sir. Why don't you tell me what you know, and I'll give you a code number for later. You can call me back in a few days, and I will tell you whether the information has been a help, and what it would be worth." The man was a little indignant as he said, "I want some juice now! I need the money now." "Well sir, that's just the way it works. What do you mean you need some juice? If you're homeless, and need food, I can give you the addresses of a few shelters that provide meals." "I don't need no damn food; I need juice! You know, grape juice, the kind they sell for five bucks a bottle." The woman chuckled to herself, but said to the man, "I'm afraid I can't help you with that, right now. If your information is good, though, you could probably afford a lot of those bottles of grape juice." "OK, then. I'll wait. What I seen was someone throwing away a gun. In the river. I was under the Third Street Bridge, just mindin my own business on Sunday morning, at least I think it was Sunday morning, when a fella pulled up into the public access lot. When he got out he was carrying a gun, and two shovels. He threw them all in the river, right there practically in front of me. I was scared, let me tell ya. I figured for sure he was going to see me and use that gun on me." A Circumstantial Case The operator was mildly interested in what the old man had to say, and so she asked, "Was that at the parking lot on the east side of the Third Street Bridge? Did he throw them way out in the water?" "Yup, that's the place, and no, he just sort of dropped them over the end of that little dock that's there. Them guys should have no trouble finding the gun." He hesitated before adding, "I can describe him too. He was big, and had light hair. Not blond, just kinda light. And his car. It was dark blue, and the license number started with AZSS, but I forgot the rest. Jimmie showed up with some juice, and he shared, so I forgot some of it. But the rest is right. I lived in Arizona, and one time I owned a Chevy Impala SS. That's how I remember." The woman had written all of the information down, and was now ready to end the call. "Well sir, I have everything we need, I think. I'm going to give you a number that you need to remember. The number is 127. You call back in a few days and tell me that your calling about tip number 127, and I'll tell you if it has been a help to the police. We might even know how much the information is worth. If it's worth some money for you, we'll tell you where you can pick it up anonymously." The call was quickly ended, and the Crimestoppers operator phoned the information in to the police liaison officer she reported to. He figured they would send a diver out very shortly, as keeping guns off the streets was one of the mayor's top priorities. As it turned out, the police diver was on the scene in not much more than an hour, and it only took minutes to find the three items that had been thrown into the river. The proper reports were filled in, and then filed with the Crimestoppers report. By 2:30 the shovels were with the property clerk, and the gun had been dropped off at the forensics lab for eventual testing to see whether it matched any of the outstanding crimes in the city. When the gun was checked in, it was quickly noted that the caliber and type of jacketed ammunition that was still in it matched perfectly with the recent crime scene in George Washington Park. Within minutes the gun was being checked over in detail, and a test bullet had been fired for comparison purposes. It was immediately shown to be a match for the slug removed from the block of firewood discovered at the Park. A report was immediately sent upstairs to the attention of the detectives in charge of the case, and a technician was dispatched to pick up the two shovels from the property clerk. ++++++++++++ Just as different chains of events can run in parallel, they can also eventually intersect, and that is exactly what happened when the detectives and their commander walked out of the staff coffee room. They were met just outside the door by the clerk who was delivering the ballistics and Crimestoppers reports. "Detectives! I was just bringing this information up to you. We've got the gun from the George Washington Park shooting. There is some information for you in the attached Crimestoppers report as well. It just might even lead you right to the perpetrator." The grinning clerk from the forensics lab handed the two reports to the surprised detectives, and headed back to his own department. Detectives Klein and Nesbitt took turns looking over the two reports. Within seconds, they were seated side-by-side in front of a computer terminal, calling up records from the vehicle registration department. When they were finished doing that, the two of them held a quick conversation. "Pete, I'm going to suggest we split up on us. If you'd like, I'll start the questioning of our guest in the interrogation room, and you can take a uniformed officer and go call on Mr. Moore. We should have him in here for questioning as well." "That sounds like a plan, Dave. Things are coming together nicely, aren't they?" New parallel lines of action were formed as Detective Klein picked up their accumulating stock of reports and information and headed for the interrogation room where Lisa Evans continued to wait. As he did that, his partner spoke to his commanding officer, asking for a uniformed officer's assistance on a surprise visit to Blake Moore. He was soon out the door with a patrol car scheduled to meet him at the Moore residence. When Detective Klein entered the interrogation room, Lisa Evans was sitting quietly at the table, her face a mask displaying neither sadness nor fear. She seemed to be stoically awaiting her fate, whatever that might be. "I'm sorry we kept you waiting, Mrs. Evans. I'm ready to get started now. Please be aware that this room is under the surveillance of two video cameras, and everything we say and do is being recorded." She looked at him with a bit of surprise evident, and said, "I don't mind if you tape us; I have nothing to hide." As he shuffled papers, he replied, "That's good. We should be able to get started then." He sat back and looked at her briefly before taking her on directly. "I'll start where we ended it when we spoke at your home. Once again; are you having an affair with Blake Moore? Yes or no." His decision to once again drive to the heart of the matter had a noticeable effect on her. Her shoulders slumped a bit and she turned her head so that she could no longer meet the eyes of the detective. After a few seconds she said in a soft voice, "Yes." Detective Klein pulled a couple of pages from the pile of papers in front of him. "It's a good thing that you decided to be honest with me. We have proof of your affair right here, printed from your husband's laptop." His statement seemed to shock her, as her head jerked up, and she once again stared directly into his eyes. "What do you mean, you have proof? Nobody knew about Blake and me." "Your husband certainly knew, as you can see in these pages. Here's the email he sent to his lawyer almost a month ago, telling him that he wanted him to start preparing papers for a divorce on the grounds of adultery. Here's a map from two weeks ago, clearly showing the route you drove that day, complete with time stamps that show you spent two hours at Blake Moore's residence. Here's a copy of the email your husband sent his lawyer that day, telling him how you had lied when he called you that afternoon, when you told him you were at home." The pieces of paper slid across the table one at a time, each coming to rest in front of the seated woman. She looked back and forth between the papers and the detective several times before picking up each of them and confirming that each appeared to show exactly what the detective had said they did. Finally she spoke, "How... how did Mark do this? How could he know where I was? This map..." She picked up the detailed map, and traced the route that was clearly marked upon it, showing the route she drove from her home to that of her lover. "I don't know how your husband first found out, but something made him install this device in your car." He picked up a small black device, smaller than a package of cigarettes, and slid it across to her. On its side was embossed PT--200, and below that was Rocky Mountain Tracking. "He bought this off the Internet, along with an unlimited tracking option, and has been able to use his laptop to get a complete, real-time, location history for you, with full addresses, as well as date and time stamps. He could tell where your car has been every minute of every day since he installed that device under the dash." She stared at the small, innocent looking electronic unit like it was a scorpion about to sting her. "You mean, Mark has known about us for weeks? Oh God...And he wanted a divorce!" She began to cry again, and the detective took a moment to reclaim the papers and tracking device, which he stacked in a separate pile beside him. "He certainly did, along with the time and place for all four of your liaisons with his friend over the last month. The last map was created at just after midnight Saturday night, the night he went missing. That was the same approximate time that he sent an email to his lawyer, telling him how he was going to drive over to Moore's place and confront the two of you. He told his lawyer that he was concerned he would be arrested if he broke into the house, or ended up in a fight with your lover, his supposed friend." She looked up again at the detective, and said, "But, but he never came over there. I... I spent the night there, but Mark never showed up. Something must have happened to him before he got to Blake's house." The detective appeared to be well-prepared for that claim, as he quickly said, "I'm sure something happened to him, all right. Preliminary DNA results confirm that the blood in the park is his, and we've just found the gun that was used. We can tie the gun to your lover, and the only question now is how long you intend to cover for him." "Blake... Blake never did anything to Mark! I was with him the whole time, and he never left that night." Her eyes once again broke contact with the detective as she continued, "We were together all night in his bed." The detective pulled more pages from his stack and said, "We have more, you know. The blood in your car and on your shoe as well, I might add, is also your husband's. Right now my partner is on his way to pick up Mr. Moore, and we'll soon find out whether his story matches yours. There is also the little thing about prosecutorial discretion. Whichever of the two of you tell us what really happened, and where we can locate your husband's body, will be offered a better deal at sentencing." He slid the blood analysis reports across the table to her, but she barely glanced at these ones. "Mark isn't dead! He can't be dead! I love him; I need him." She was sobbing again and clearly very upset. "Blake is going to tell you the same things that I have. If my husband was hurt in the park, we didn't have anything to do with it." She continued to hide her face with their hands as she cried, a wrinkled and very damp handkerchief in her left hand. Detective Klein gave her a few minutes to compose herself, during which time he again reclaimed his reports from in front of her, and selected several more that he intended to shock her with when she regained her composure. As she seemed to recover a bit, he said, "There's no doubt your husband is dead. The medical examiner carefully went over the scene, and judges that from the blood loss that is evident, combined with the fact that your husband has not been given any medical attention at any facility in the area, it points to a greater than 95% chance that he is dead." He slid the associated report along with several 8 x 10 photos of the bloody scene across the table to her. One of the photos slid into contact with her elbow, and she removed her hands from her face to look at it. It seemed to her that there was blood shown in every square inch of the photo, although in truth it was somewhat less than that. She immediately went back into her crying state, and the detective once again straightened out his documentation before putting everything together, picking it up, and heading for the door. "I'll leave you for a few minutes so that you can compose yourself. You really aren't doing yourself any favors by failing to accept your responsibility in this." Detective Klein set the pile of evidentiary reports on his desk, shook his head as he passed his commanding officer, and walked to the break room for a fresh cup of coffee. His commanding officer continued to periodically glance at a monitor that displayed the interior of the interrogation room, making sure that the detained woman remained safe and secure. ++++++++++++++ When he left the station, Detective Nesbitt was deep in thought about the Mark Evans case. It appeared that they had received enough information from the forensics department to soon solve it. He was wondering as well whether Blake Moore would still be in town. If he had any inkling of how much evidence the department already had, he would probably have been tempted to flee their jurisdiction. He arrived at the Moore residence at almost exactly the same time as the patrol car that was to provide his backup arrived. The two policemen knew each other, and exchanged pleasantries as they headed to the front door. Detective Nesbitt was almost surprised when their knock quickly resulted in the door being answered by Blake Moore. The man looked curiously at the two strangers at his front door, one obviously in a police uniform while the other was holding out a badge and identification. "Yes, officers. What can I do for you?" The detective quickly responded, "I'm Detective Nesbitt, and I'm here regarding the disappearance of Mark Evans. We'd like you to join us back at the station for some questioning. We have Mrs. Evans there now, and questions have been raised that will require your participation." The tall, well-built, and ruggedly handsome man quickly asked, "Am I under arrest, or something? I know Mark is missing, as I've spoken to his wife. I don't really know what you think I can tell you about it, though." "We have a number of questions that we think you will be able to help us with. If you don't mind we'd like to have you accompany us now, although you aren't under arrest." Blake Moore seemed too shocked to put up any real resistance to their request, and quickly joined them on their way back to the unmarked car that Detective Nesbitt was driving. Once there, he quietly accepted their invitation to get into the back seat, and didn't seem at all surprised that both the detective and the uniformed officer got into the front seat. Department protocol required that when dealing with a potentially violent suspect, two members of the force had to be involved, for backup purposes. The detective first turned his attention to his uniformed partner. "We'll get one of the squad cars to bring you back to your patrol car later." When that formality was over, Detective Nesbitt directed his attention to Blake Moore as he asked, "Tell me, Mr. Moore, how well do you know Mrs. Evans?" Their passenger quickly replied, "She's just Mark's wife to me. I've known her since he met her. Why do you ask?" "Just wondering, sir. What is it that you do, anyway, Mr. Moore?" Blake Moore seemed to relax a bit when the question was asked, and replied, "I own a small landscaping company, Moore's Landscaping. We do a lot of commercial work. You've probably seen some of it, as we've even done work for the city." Their conversation continued until they arrived at the police station, where Blake Moore was escorted to the interrogation room beside the one confining Lisa Evans. He too was asked to wait alone, while the detective collected the files that had been placed on his desk just moments before by Detective Klein. In just a couple of minutes a conversation commenced between Blake Moore and Detective Nesbitt that closely paralleled the just completed questioning of Lisa Evans. At first he denied any affair with Lisa Evans, but the emails and tracking reports soon made him change his tune. He quickly conceded that they were having an affair, one that had been going on for almost four months. He adamantly denied that they had done anything to Mark Evans, and insisted that neither of them had left his home the night that Lisa's husband had disappeared. As Detective Nesbitt continued to hammer at his suspect's emphatic denials of any involvement in Mark Evans' disappearance, a new theory was advanced about what had happened in the park. "I had nothing to do with anything that happened in that park. If Mark knew about Lisa and me, he would have probably gone ballistic, and there's no telling what he might have done. He might have even hired his own killer, and paid him to make it look like Lisa and I were involved. He and I had a history about things like my relationship with Lisa." "What do you mean by that, Mr. Moore? We have the gun that was used, and a witness described you, and your car, and states that you were responsible for dumping the gun in the river. He even gave a major portion of your license plate number. Don't try and introduce some fairytale about Mark Evans committing an elaborate suicide to frame you and his wife." Blake Moore got greatly agitated as he responded, "You don't know Mark. He and I have been the best of friends, ever since grade school in fact, but I have known for years that I had better not get caught messing around with his girlfriends or now his wife. We were seniors in high school when I once did that. I took out one of his girlfriends behind his back, and when he found out later that I was screwing her while they were dating; he got so angry that he scared me. I'm a lot bigger than him, and I've always been stronger, but he scared me. He warned me then that he'd never put up with it again, and that I'd be a dead man." The detective listened to the statement with faint amusement on his face. "You're telling me that you were actually scared of what he would do if he found out, but that you were screwing his wife anyway? Man, that doesn't make much sense." Blake was more sedate now, as he said, "Stupid, isn't it. I just couldn't resist her; it's been slowly building up between us for years, and I finally put a serious move on her a few months ago. We've been getting together periodically ever since. I don't have a clue how he could've ever caught on. We've been so careful." The detective sorted through his pile of reports before continuing, "Yeah, it was stupid. Sometimes I think half of our homicides and suicides involve stupidity like that. The old eternal triangle. The only thing is, in this case I think we have you and Lisa dead to rights as the perps. You may as well tell us what happened. Did he surprise you, and things got out of hand? Or maybe you two planned this all along so you could be together and wouldn't have to worry about whether he found out or not. I don't buy the idea that he arranged his own murder; that's just too bizarre. He already had his lawyer arranging his divorce, so why would he suddenly resort to that?" "I don't know what happened. I just know that Lisa and I had nothing to do with it. As far as the two of us wanting to be together, that wasn't in the cards. She and I both knew it was just a fling, and it wouldn't have lasted much longer at all. The bloom was already off the rose, as they say." Detective Nesbitt leaned forward before saying, "We've got enough probable cause to get a warrant to search your house, car and office. I wouldn't be surprised if that was already taking place. You had better come clean on this before we drive the last nail in your coffin. I'm going to make you the same offer that I'm sure your lover has been given by my partner. Be the first to tell us what happened, and you'll get a break at sentencing. There's no sense in both of you keeping your mouths shut and getting a maximum. Use your head, and do yourself a favor." Blake Moore was indignant. "I never had anything to do with whatever happened to Mark. Maybe Lisa arranged something on her own, but if she did, I don't know a damn thing about it." The detective picked up his papers without responding to the suspect's latest theory. As he left the room he said, "That figures. Whenever we have two perps working together, one always tries to blame the other. You may as well relax for a while, because I don't think you're going to be leaving anytime soon." When he came out of the interrogation room, Detective Nesbitt found his partner waiting for him with another report in his hand. "It gets better and better. The two shovels found in the river are both stamped as belonging to Moore's Landscaping. What a maroon! Why do these guys always think that we're never going to figure out what happened."