Джордан Шор - The Search

Jack leaned forward and dragged his elbows across the large table. “What did you call me?”

“I didn’t call you anything.” The dark, short man had a superior smile.

Just then, the tall, pale man put his right arm across the table, similar to what a boxing referee would do when separating fighters. He cleared his throat loudly before he reached for a small notebook from the inside pocket of his jacket. “You were seen wearing Kevin’s jacket.”

“I get it. You’ve been talking to Julie, and she told you about the jacket,” Jack said, and shook his head. “That information is inaccurate. I was not seen wearing Kevin’s jacket. I was seen wearing a black blazer.”

Jack looked to his left. “Much like the one you’re wearing, Agent Coleman,” Jack said, and tilted his head. “Well, except for the small size.”

The superior smile on Agent Coleman’s face suddenly vanished. The tall, pale man beside him appeared to be biting down on his lips.

“As I said before, I took the blazer off a dead body floating in the lake.”

“Was there any blood on the jacket? Did the body have any sign of injuries?”

Jack looked to his right. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Where’s the jacket now?” the tall, pale man asked.

“I left it at the house.”

“In the house that so conveniently burned to the ground, and thereby destroying the evidence proving it was Kevin’s jacket,” Coleman said. “How convenient.”

“No, it’s inconvenient. Because it wasn’t Kevin’s jacket,” Jack insisted.

“Why did you take it off in the first place?” the pale, tall man asked. “People usually wear blazers indoors. Much as you pointed out a minute ago.”

“It was bloody.” Jack sighed. “It wasn’t Kevin’s blood. The jacket didn’t have any blood on it until…”

“Until you slit Jean Laponte’s throat,” Coleman quickly added.

“While his brother was about to rape, Julie.” Jack’s voice was firm and decisive.

Once more, the tall, pale man put his arm across the table, and cleared his throat loudly. “Did the blazer have any distinctive marks? Anything that might help us to identify the person it belonged to?”

“No, it was just a black blazer. I can’t tell them apart. They all look alike to me.”

“They all look alike to you,” Coleman said and stared aggressively at Jack.

“Wait, there was a note in the inside pocket,” Jack said.

“There was a note?” The tall, pale man looked surprised. What did the note say?”

“I think it was a funeral speech,” Jack said. “I think the man who wrote the note was a victim of abuse. And it would appear that the man planned to reveal his secret at a funeral, and he made a reference to a man with no name. I think that’s the man who abused him.”

“A man with no name,” the tall, pale man said. “Every person has a name.”

“Yes, I’m aware every person has a name, Agent Smith,” Jack responded. “But he didn’t write the man’s name, instead he wrote say his name . I figured the guy probably hated the man so much, he couldn’t bring himself to write his name.”

“I see. And was there any other reference to this man with no name?” Smith asked. “For example, did he describe the man’s physical appearance?”

“No, but he described himself as an overeater.” Jack had a look of shame.

“I see… But he didn’t describe his own appearance in detail?” Smith asked.

“Why would he describe his own appearance?” Jack countered. “The note was intended for his eyes only.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you found a note in the inside pocket of the blazer you wore. And the note appeared to be a funeral speech written by an overweight man of unknown ethnicity, describing a secret he was about to reveal at a funeral,” Smith said. “Does that sound accurate?”

“I guess.” Jack looked uncertain.

“Tell me, Agent Coleman,” Smith said. “Was Kevin Anderson a big fellow?”

“I believe he was, Agent Smith,” Coleman responded in, a superior tone. “According to his family, he did have a problem with his weight, and his mother had apparently pleaded with him on numerous occasions to lose weight.”

“I see. And tell me, Agent Coleman, did his family tell you the purpose of his trip to Anchorage?”

“Well, yes they did, Agent Smith. According to them, Kevin Anderson was on his way to attend a funeral.”

“It wasn’t Kevin’s jacket,” Jack said loudly. “Check the surveillance tapes from the airport and look for an enormous man with sweatpants and a black blazer.”

“He could have taken his blazer off, once he boarded the plane,” Smith said. “Just because he wore a black blazer when boarding doesn’t mean the blazer isn’t at the bottom of the lake.”

“So, drag the lake,” Jack said. “Make sure every blazer is accounted for, and you’ll discover one is missing.”

“But if even if one blazer is missing,” Smith responded. “Who’s to say, Kevin is still wearing his.”

Jack displayed a look of defeat.

“What about Andrew Townsend?” Coleman addressed Jack.

“I told you, he’s dead. Didn’t you find his body?”

“I meant what you kill him for? He wasn’t wearing a jacket.” Coleman quickly responded. “Please don’t tell me, you killed him for his ring. Did you?”

“You were seen in possession of his wedding ring,” Smith quickly added.

“The ring was in his pants, so I gave the ring to Julie for her to hold.”

“His wedding ring was in his pants pocket?” Coleman asked.

“Yes, it was in his pants pocket,” Jack responded. “And not on his finger.”

“According to his wife,” Smith said, “Andrew Townsend never wore his wedding ring on his finger.”

“Well, there you go, then,” Jack said. “Problem solved.”

Agent Smith glanced at Jack’s fingers before he flipped through a few pages of his notebook. “According to his wife, Andrew Townsend always wore the ring on a chain around his neck. That way, his wedding ring would be closer to his heart.”

Jack chuckled. “That’s sounds about right.”

“So you admit to removing the ring from his neck chain?” Smith asked.

“What?” Jack looked startled. “No, I didn’t say that.”

“For a little piece of gold.” Coleman shook his head.

“How would you describe your relationship to Mr. Townsend?”

“I didn’t care for him,” Jack said. “As I’m sure Julie already told you. And she didn’t care for him, either, by the way. But I never laid a hand on him, and I certainly didn’t kill him.”

“You never laid a hand on him,” Smith said slowly, and looked at his notebook. “So you deny grabbing Mr. Townsend by his neck?”

“I didn’t grab him by his neck. I grabbed his collar. It was nothing.”

“But you admit to having an altercation with him?”

“He made some demeaning remarks about Nancy, so I told him to stay away from her and to leave her alone.” Jack exhaled heavily.

“So Nancy belonged to you?” Coleman quickly commented.

Jack frowned and looked to his left. “What did you say?”

“But Andrew wouldn’t back off, so instead, you killed him,” Coleman added.

Jack exhaled deeply and looked at Agent Smith. “As I told you before, when Julie and I found him, Andrew was already dead. It must have been an accident. Either he startled Nancy, and she hit him with a rock, or he could have slipped, and hit his head while he chased after her. And as I told you earlier, Nancy had his cell phone in her pocket.”

Agent Smith flipped through his notebook. “Nancy’s clothes weren’t in the proximity of her body. Is that correct?”