The Interrogation

"It's not their fault that they trusted me, that's just what they pay for." She said as she stared at the table sitting in the 8'x 10' interrogation room with a clock over the door. She looks up at the detective sitting across from her "Can I have a tissue?" He reaches underneath the table to the box of tissues on the floor. He holds the tissue in front of her. She grabs a tissue out of the tissue box and starts to tear it into pieces. "So, how did this start?" as he puts down the tissue box.

"You want my opinion or the clinical explanation?" She said. "No, lets not play this game. I want to know how a dead body ends up on one side of town and the murder weapon in your house." Detective says. "It's easy I took it there." She smiles. "So, you're admitting to the murder?" The detective writes down on the notepad. "They pay me to help them get what they want, that's all." The tissue is now in pieces in front of her. She smiles, collects it all and rolls it into a ball.

The detective stops writing, "Did the victim pay you to kill them?" "Would that matter? It's not like you'd let me go if that was the case." She places the tissue ball in the middle of the table. The detective puts his pen down on the table "You know if you're going to keep going around in circles playing these games, then I can't help you." "What do you mean? I'm telling you everything without saying a word." She smiles.

"What the hell are you talking about?" the detective stands up and grabs the tissue ball. "The only thing you've done is making a mess with a tissue." He throws the ball back on the table and stands there. "We've got the body and the murder weapon at your house. " He walks around the table and hovers over her. "You're going to jail for a very long time." She starts laughing. "What's so funny?" the detective asks. "If I was going to jail for a long time...I'd be in handcuffs and a cell." She puts her hand over her mouth to contain herself. "You've gotta be kidding me." The detective walks over to the door and looks up at the clock. It's 4:54 in the morning.

The detective suddenly opens his mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. He has an unusual taste in his mouth. He grabs his neck and feels a female's hand. With the other hand he feels the pen that's gone through his voice box. She whispers, "I told you I was telling you everything. As a therapist my patients are born whole, life tears them apart and I pull them back together." The detective struggles as he falls on his knees and begins to black out.

"There has only been a few times where they've asked me to keep them in pieces permanently. Besides you should never leave a weapon in front of a criminal, but we all make mistakes." She giggles. The detective is now lifeless and she drops him on the floor. Suddenly a male patrolman bursts through the door with his gun drawn. "Drop the weapon and put your hands up!" She drops the pen. The patrolman holsters his gun and throws her against the wall. "What's your problem?" he asks. She starts laughing. "That's my line." The End.