The lights of the emergency vehicles lit up the darkened street casting streams of blue and red into the night. The noise from the idling engines drifted through the open window and mixed itself with the hushed voices of the strangers that filled the cramped apartment.
"Was the door open or locked?" The soothing masculine voice asked.
Daria replied with a blank stare. "Huh?"
"Was the bathroom door open, shut or was it locked, think hard this is important." he reiterated calmly.
Daria's brow furrowed as she thought. How the hell was she supposed to remember such a miniscule detail?
Her mind wandered back. Had she heard the gunshot? She could recall the sickening wet slap as the dead weight of his body connected with tile; presumably the floor. The high pitched wail as Jane burst out of the door, her face contorted with shock; her eyes wide and frenzied...
"Locked. No shut. I don't know if it was locked." Daria replied, as she rested her forehead against the heel of her palm and shook her head wearily.
"But it was definitely shut?" The tall black man responded. Daria nodded as he stood and scribbled in his small note book.
Daria watched his tall frame cross the small living-room and mutter something in his partner's ear. From her vantage point she was able to see most of the two bedroom apartment. At least a dozen faceless emergency service workers occupied the small space. Her eyes were drawn to the short hallway that separated the living and the bath rooms. He had been moved, now positioned on the white carpet. A crowd of five paramedics stood over him, working frantically to stop the bleeding.
Daria hoped the blood wouldn't stain the carpet.
The detective approached her once more and crouched down, "We need you to come down to the station. You're not being charged, we need a witness report." the detective reassured.
Daria nodded docilely and followed him down to his car.
She knew from the moment she met him that Jane's new relationship would end badly. She just wished Jane had known it too. After the Sloane affair in high school, Daria hadn't been able to give Jane an honest opinion of any of her boyfriends. It had seemed the more she had disliked them the more Jane had wanted them, so she had kept her opinions to herself and mouth shut about him. They had met each other over summer break between high-school and college; he was an artist, or so he claimed, and appeared to have a large chip on his shoulder. Jane reasoned he was misunderstood, and only she got him.
Daria sat in the sparsely furnished, cold waiting room of the Boston Police-Station. Her eyes set on the only other occupant; a haggard middle aged whore. Daria guessed her age to be at least forty-five, she may have been younger but it was hard to tell. The woman's face showed obvious signs of drug abuse; hollow tissue-paper thin cheeks, dark sunken eyes and sparse unkempt hair. The woman smiled at Daria and showed the few of her remaining teeth.
"Hey there sweetie, what are you in for then?" she gave Daria a curious look as she let her eyes wander over Daria's slight form, "Deny everything they're just trying to stir shit. They're pigs, the lot of 'em," she rasped. The woman stood and peered through the thick window of Plexiglass that separated them from the reception desk, "You hear that Filth?" she yelled as she hocked up a large chunk of phlegm and spat it at the barrier.
Daria recoiled as the woman's shrill cackling bounced around the room as she watched the discoloured bodily fluid creep slowly down the window.
"Miss... Morgendorffer?" Daria's head spun to face the voice that had beckoned her. "They are ready for you now." The fair skinned blond female officer led Daria through a maze of offices to a small interrogation room, situated at the back of the station. "Wait here please." She said stiffly and closed the door leaving Daria in solitude.
Daria paced the room with unease. This was surreal, it wasn't happening.
The bad vibes she had received from him over the course of the past year or so were purely instinctual. He had never actually done anything to Jane or her, but something never sat right. Daria had objected profusely at the suggestion that he move in with them, but had finally receded and allowed it during a fiscal slump. The night he had shown them the gun was the last straw, Daria had been furious and had given Jane the ultimatum- either he moved out or she would.
"Chill Daria, it's not like he's going to use it" Jane had said.
Jane had eventually talked her around and Daria had given him another chance. To say she regretted the decision was a massive understatement, if she knew then what he was going to do....
"Miss, Morgendorffer, please sit down." The dark detective had returned, he had told her his name but it has since escaped her.
Daria sat in the chair opposite and shot a wary look toward him. "Where's Jane?"
"She's fine; she is being questioned in another room," He replied calmly. "Now this conversation is going to be recorded, okay? Now I'd like you to start when you first thought there was something wrong between your flat mates."
Daria shrugged, "They fought a lot, it was a tumultuous relationship." she replied simply.
"What happened at the beginning of the evening?"
"We had dinner, I cooked. They had arranged to go out after for a date-night,"
"Where to?" He interrupted.
"I don't know" Daria shrugged. "A club I think, they left about eight thirty,"
"Had they been fighting before they left?" He interjected again.
"I don't think so, maybe a little-but that was normal. They got back about midnight..."
Daria's mind drifted back.
"Jesus Christ, I don't know why you're so worked up! He was a friend from class, he wasn't hitting on me!" Jane screamed as she stormed through the front door. She swung it hard behind her as she continued through to the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her.
"That's bullshit! he was fawning over you like you were Lady fucking Godiva!" He screamed back as he caught the front door and stormed through to the bedroom.
Jesus not again. Daria thought.
Moments later the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut resounded through the flat.
"So they were fighting when they returned?" The detective's voice brought her back to the dank, dimly lit interrogation room.
Daria nodded wordlessly.
"What about?" he continued.
"He was a jealous man; he thought a class mate of Jane's was hitting on her."
"Was this usual?"
"I guess, I don't know. I didn't speak to him much,"
"But you lived together..."
"It doesn't mean I had to like him."
"Please continue. Who called 911?"
Daria thought hard, had she? The vision of Jane's panicked face as it flew out of the bathroom flashed through her mind again.
"Daria, quick help...he...he... the...and the gun," Jane sobbed as she collapsed on the floor.
Daria glanced at the bathroom; she could see an arm, lying in a growing pool of blood, "Jane?" Jane looked up, her face void of expression and sobbed loudly. "Jane, what happened?"
Daria felt in her pocket and found her cell. She dialled the numbers for the emergency services as she stepped closer to the bathroom.
"911 emergency, what service do you require?"
Daria peered into the room and her voice caught in her throat. She was confronted with a scene that belonged in a horror movie; his body lay akimbo in the center of the small room. "Jesus Christ he's not moving, there's so much blood."
"What service do you require?" the female voice asked again.
"Uh, ambulance I guess. Holy shit!" Daria's breathing had quickened and left her mouth in short rasps.
"Ma'am I need you to calm down and tell me what happened, can you do that for me?"
"Sure, I guess." Daria's voice rose slightly as the reality of what had happened began to sink in.
"Now I'm going to tell you what needs to be done while you wait, what exactly are we dealing with? Who is the causality?"
"Um, male, twenty I think, he...he... he's been shot in the head, there's so much blood." Daria's normally cool voice cracked and the last few words were marred in breathy sobs.
She observed the scene before her, his body had dropped into a heap on the floor; the shower curtain had been torn from its holdings and now rested over his head. She groaned as she lifted the bloodied plastic cloth and hazarded a glance. Her breath caught in her throat, the only sound she could manage was a high whimper. Adrenaline surged through her veins willing her to run as far away as possible, she could hear the small voice coming from the cell in her limp left arm. She shook her head and slowly brought the phone to her ear.
"He's, he's oh my god," She managed, her eyes glued on the pooling dark puddle of blood that was collecting at her feet.
"Okay calm down, you need to find something to apply pressure to the wound; we have to slow the bleeding."
Daria nodded and grabbed the nearest towel from the rack and bent down, "Jane, I need your help." she cried as she wrapped the towel tightly around his head. Jane approached the room and knelt beside Daria taking his head in her arms.
"Okay great job now is he breathing?" the operator asked.
Daria held her ear over his mouth and listened for the sound of breath. Without warning he started to convulse.
"Miss Morgendorffer, so it was you who called the emergency services?" The detective asked again, his voice bringing her back.
Daria nodded as she looked down at her clothes. Dark stains of congealed blood covered most of the front of her; she realized for the first time, that the skin of her hands and arms had been also washed with dry blood. She cringed as she looked pleadingly at the detective.
"I need to wash my hands."
"Not yet, after the interview, we need to do a GSPR test; a gunshot powder residue test, to determine whether or not you have recently fired a gun,"
"I thought you said I was a witness," Daria asked warily.
"This is standard procedure," He assured. "Had their relationship ever turned violent?" he continued.
"He never hit her as far as I know,"
"So this is the first time you had seen him angry at her?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Would you describe Jane as aggressive?"
Daria frowned at the detective, "She didn't shoot him."
The detective smiled, "I think we've gotten all the details we need for now."
Daria was taken to a small office and asked to wait. The minutes crawled by and after what seemed like hours, she was summoned to complete the GSPR test. She watched with curiosity as the female officer dabbed her hands and wrists with the small potent solution then sprayed the areas with another liquid.
"Okay, you can wash your hands now,"
"Where's Jane?"
"Your friend is still being interviewed, then she has to be tested also, depending on the results the two of you will be free to go home in the next hour or so." She smiled pertly and showed Daria to the ladies bathroom.
"When did you know he had the gun?"
"When he put it to his fucking temple and pulled the trigger." Jane shot back, the first coherent words she had spoken since she had been escorted to the station.
The detective cleared his throat, "Miss Lane, this is a serious matter and I'll thank you to answer the questions seriously. Were you aware that he was in possession of the firearm prior to the altercation this evening?"
Jane nodded dutifully and directed her attention to the old metal table that separated them.
"In your own time I'd like you to tell me what happened."
Jane inhaled deeply and let out a shuddering sigh as she began.
"We had a fight. He was getting really possessive and I'd had enough. I told him we were over."
"Is this when you got home?"
Jane nodded, "Just before we walked through the door. I went straight to the bathroom to get away; I figured he wouldn't follow me in..."
"Is this what you want, after so much time and energy invested into our relationship, you want to call it off, just like that?" He spat as he shut the door to the bathroom blockading the only exit.
"Let me out, now." Jane said through gritted teeth.
"You're really killing me here Janey is that what you want?"
"Don't call me that," Jane's voice was laced with anger; she glared at him as she attempted to move past.
"It is, isn't it? You want me gone, I'm dead to you?" His face took on a maniacal glow as he stood firm and reached a hand into his back pocket.
Jane gave him an uneasy look, "What are..."
Jane's eyes grew wide at the glistening of metal that flashed under the fluorescent light as he held the pistol to his temple.
"What the hell? Don't fuck around like that!" she stuttered.
"I might as well be dead to everyone then," he let out a chilling hollow laugh as his index finger curled around the trigger and he disarmed the safety.
"Don't, dammit put it away." She replied as reached for the arm that held the gun.
"Aww Janey I'm just pl...."
The expansive crack shattered her eardrums, stunning her into silence. Everything moved in slow motion; she watched in horror as recoil action sent his arm flying. The gun dislodged itself from his slack grip and skidded across the tiled floor. Blood from the wound misted around the room covering the walls. His expression fell and morphed into one of pure pain as his body slowly collapsed and fell to the floor with a loud slap.
A throaty wail erupted from Jane's mouth as she flew through the door, "Daria..."
"He forced you to remain in the bathroom with him?" Jane looked at the detective blankly and shrugged. "Who called the ambulance?"
"Daria, he was okay for a bit, then... He started to shake, he was making these gurgling noises, like he was choking," Jane stifled a sob and continued, "We tried so hard, but his mouth... it wouldn't open. It was like his jaw had been wired shut. I thought that was it; he was going to..." the tears rolled freely down her cheeks and she held up her bloodied hands "I thought he was going to die right there in my hands..."
Bright thick blood oozed from his mouth as the girls attempted to loosen his jaw, but it was no use nothing they tried worked. Through their frenzied efforts the towel that had been hiding the initial wound was exposed, the two girls sat in shock as they viewed the mangled piece of meat that minutes earlier had been a functioning human head.
"Holy shit Daria this is it, isn't it? He's not going to make it." Jane's panicked voice inflected toward the end of her sentence.
Daria fashioned the makeshift tourniquet over his head and glanced at her watch; the last few minutes had felt like hours, she breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the faint wailing that signified the approach of the ambulance.
"The paramedics will be here soon. Jane, what the hell happened?"
"There was so much blood." Jane concluded as she rubbed her arms fervently.
"We have determined that the wound was most likely self inflicted. Pending the results of the GSPR test you and Miss Morgendorffer are free to go. We have received word from the hospital that the surgery wasn't as successful as they'd hoped it to be."
"He's dead?" Jane asked incredulously.
The detective stood and looked down at Jane, "It doesn't look promising."
***
The two girls stood in the bright morning sun outside the Boston Police department, eyeing each other carefully. A small smile crept across Jane's face.