Again I just did not know what to say. So again he continued.
Then I walked around your office, detective. I walked around trying to figure out where you might have stored that recording. Then I found your safe and I was in the process of trying to break it open when I heard the elevator ping. I looked up and I saw a woman come off the elevator and toward your office. My first glimpse of her, I thought: How pretty! Who knows, there might have been a moment when she thought that I was you.
And she spoke. She said: Hello? Art? That’s what she said. I won’t forget your wife’s voice, detective. She had a lovely voice. It was resonant, but contained octaves. With those words alone you could sense there was something sweet about her. That’s how my wife used to sound, detective, when I came home from work. That was before she got messed up with that lawyer of hers. Before you involved yourself in the mess.
I took a deep breath like I was about to say something, but there were still no words. There were still no words. So he went on.
Your wife stepped through your office door, detective, and she saw me kneeling by your safe, and she didn’t think twice about what she saw. She thought she saw you. In that moment I became, perfectly, you. I received her as you received her every day of your life together. When she asked how I was doing, I told her: Fine. Upon hearing my voice, she paused. I could sense her tense up and when she realized that I might not be you she backed out of your office and into the elevator foyer. At that moment, I was no longer you. The illusion was broken. And your Glock was right there. I picked it up and I shot her. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. I don’t know what got into me, detective. I’ve never shot a thing in my life. I never intended to shoot anything. But the gun was right there and I couldn’t stop. It just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like the gun just appeared in my hand. Like it shot itself. It’s a Glock. What can I say? I unloaded all seventeen rounds into her. She was lovely, really, in that black dress. It wasn’t my plan to kill her, but then it was. I wanted to make you feel what you seemed unable to understand. I wanted you to feel my pain, detective. My final shot was right at her face. Between her eyes to put her out of her misery. I will tell you that before the final bullet was shot, she suffered. After I shot her, I wanted to kill myself, but there were no more bullets. So I walked home. It was a long walk, so it wore me out. When I got home I took a nap because I was tired.
Again I didn’t know if it was my turn to talk, or if I could gain anything by talking.
Now my wife wants me back, detective. My wife wants me back. And she said so, only yesterday. So I wish I could return yours to you, but I can’t do that. And that’s why I’m here…to figure out what to do next.
I looked at the Glock 26 sitting on the table between us. It had a clip in it but I didn’t know if the clip was loaded or not.
Go ahead, detective, he said. If that’s what you want. Go ahead. Just shoot me. I’m OK with it.
I shifted in my chair, and maybe he thought I was making a move for the gun, but he didn’t do anything. I backed off.
No, please. Be my guest, detective. Pick up the gun and shoot me.
She was a wonderful woman, I told him.
I imagine so, detective. I heard it in her voice.
No. You can’t imagine.
OK, detective. Maybe I can’t. Tell me…
She was wonderful beyond what you can imagine.
Then I’m sorry for your loss, detective…
There’s no way for you to understand what you have done to me.
My wife tried to divorce me. I can understand a little of what it means to lose that.
That’s not the same. It’s not equal. This is worse. Much worse. I was only doing my job. I only asked you a few questions.
I’m sorry, detective. I never intended this. But I was possessed by you. And then of course, she walked through your office door. Can you believe that?
I can’t believe I’m talking to you. I should kill you.
You still can, detective. There’s your Glock. Go ahead and shoot. Put me out of my misery.
I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to call the police.
I called 911. I said: There’s a potential killer with a loaded gun sitting at a table outside the cafe.
After I called the police I looked at him.
Can I buy you a coffee or something? he asked. While we wait for the police, detective?
No. I can’t drink coffee right now.
I’m thirsty.
He reached for his glass of water, took a sip, and set his glass down.
I could hear the sirens in the distance. That’s what I remember, though it makes no sense. Maybe those sirens belonged to a different crime or injury.
Why did you shoot her so many times? I asked.
Do you want to know the truth, detective?
Yes.
Because she reminded me of my wife. My wife, who also wanted to destroy me. I also wanted to send a message. I wanted to let you and her and everyone else to know that it’s not OK to ruin a man’s life like you ruined me.
I didn’t ruin you. I was only doing my job. I have a daughter, you know. I had a family. I was put on earth to live in the circle of my family, happily. You took that all away.
It was a mistake, detective. Do you know, after the divorce proceedings, my wife asked to take me back! That’s when I knew—you and me—we had to talk. My wife said she didn’t like living alone without me. She couldn’t handle the kids alone. She apologized for putting me through this turmoil. She said she didn’t know what had gotten into her. She blamed it all on menopause. I don’t deserve her.
I don’t know why you’re telling me this. I think you should tell the cops.
I wanted you to just shoot me. But instead, you called the police. Like a coward! Are you sure that was the right thing to do? That gun…your wife was killed with it. They’ll see it was your gun. They’ll figure that out, in their investigation.
He stared at me and smiled.
You’re a detective. I can see you have a gun on you, too. Why don’t you use it? What’s the point, if you don’t use it? Instead, you just sit there like a fucking coward! What kind of man are you, detective, that doesn’t take his revenge? You could shoot me, but you don’t! You call the police instead! Sure, let them do your dirty work! Fine. Here, I’ll do it for you.
He moved swiftly and grabbed the Glock. He pointed it directly at me. I didn’t flinch.
Go ahead, just shoot me.
He turned the gun on himself and put the barrel in his mouth. Then he pointed up towards the back of his head and fired. POP.
There was a flash of red. His body flopped forward on top of the table. There was a thud as if a heavy weight had fallen and then his arm dropped. The gun escaped his hand and hit the cement with a clatter. There was his eye staring straight at me just below the hole in his head that was suddenly leaking blood. I looked at that eye, and it saw me until it stopped seeing me.