Yes, people, I KNOW that this story is not the same without proper formatting…………..BUT……………arrggg. I don't want to get into it. GOD I COULD KILL…………………anyway. Enjoy! Remember: FIRST PERSON IS FLASHBACK, THIRD PERSON IS PRESENT DAY.

**************************************

"Well, I guess that clears everything up. Wife says it's her husband. Adams, make a note of it." O' Connor says.

"Yessir." The little man scuttles off to his desk.

"Now, Mrs. Kelly……….you are going to have to come with me now." The older officer says, leading her to a small office up the stairs and to the left. She sits in a hard wooden seat, glancing around the windowless room, mind not on the ugly walls and chipped furniture.

She is thinking about the body downstairs. Jack's pale face, a smear of dark red on his cheek. White bandage around his head, soaked with blood. Eyes closed forever. Lips ice, skin clammy, body oh-so-silent…………..

"Mrs. Kelly, please." O'Connor says. "We must conduct a routine investigation here. That means I have to fill out a lot of paperwork and ask you a lot of questions. I'm sorry," he says for the third – or is it fourth? – time that night, not really sorry at all.

"It is…………quiet alright." She says, snapping back to attention. "Please begin."

"Thank you." The man says brusquely, shuffling papers and removing a pencil from behind a dirty coffee mug. "Black will be here monetarily with your husbands things, stuff we don't need as evidence."

"Yes………."

"Lets begin. Where was your husband born?"

"I honestly have no idea, Officer." She says in wonderment. "He never told me…….."

"He never told you?" He asks in disbelief.

"His past was always………..something of a mystery with him."

"I see………well, then, what year was he born in?"

"I suppose sometime around 1882."

"So that would make him around 28?"

"That is correct."

"And when were you married?"

She falters for a minute before answering.

"In 1903."

"Quite young, for both of you." He looks piercingly at her, watches at the blush in her cheeks grows.

"Yes, yes we were………………"

"No problems in your marriage? All was well?"

The question hangs in the air, a black weight. She pauses a minute before answering, reflects.

"No, Officer, none at all………….."

********************************************************

Once Emily pointed it out to me, the truth was glaringly obvious. Jack was having an affair.

How stupid I had been! All the signs were there, staring at me in the face. Once I got home that night I watched Jack extra carefully, into the next morning. With each minute my conviction grew. My husband was cheating on me, and I was determined to find out with whom.

I followed him at first; the amateur I was at the time. When he left for work, I would wait around 10 minutes before leaving as well, a basket on my arm as an excuse. I cut through an alley I knew cut straight into Jack's route to work, and followed him from there.

He must have suspected something. He never went anywhere those morning – straight to the World office and back. Never varied. Occasionally, he would stop at a street vendor to buy a bun or something, but that was it.

I kept it up for a month before abandoning the plan and deciding on another course of action.

I hired a private detective. Race, in fact, Jack's old friend. He had started a practice a few years back, and he was the only one I felt comfortable going to. He had always liked me, and charged me almost nothing for his services.

Sashaying into this office one Monday morning, I was greeted with a huge smile.

"Sarah Kelly! Never though I would see you again!"

"Anthony." I shook hands with the short Italian, grinning as well. It was good to see him again; he had always been my favorite newsie, so long ago – besides for Jack, of course.

"Please, sit down! Tell me everything! How's Jackey-boy doing? Does he know you're here?"

"No, he doesn't." I said seriously. "And he's the reason I'm here in the first place. Please don't tell him, Higgins."

"Why happening?" He asked, mystified. Lighting up a cigar, he regarded me with his intelligent brown eyes.

"I think he's having an affair." I stated, bluntly. "Actually, I know he is. I want you to find out with who."

"Whom." He corrected absentmidly, fiddling with his cigar. "What makes you suspect this?"

"There are all the typical sings of an affair here." I said coldly, all business. "I am not going to be a beaten little 'unknowing' wife. If he is cheating on me, then I want out of this marriage."

"Always knew you were a feisty one inside." Race smirked.

"Can you do it, Anthony? Please?"

"Alright." He said, shaking his head. "If Jack ever finds out about this – "

"He won't." I assured him, all smiles. "Another thing – about the price – "

"Don't worry about it. Consider it a late and ironic wedding present to both of you." He said wickedly.

"Race! You are terrible!" I screeched, mock-slapping him on the face.

"I know." He smiled. "Alright, I'll get started right away. Come back to me in two days, I'll have the information by then."

Those couple of days passed by in such antagonizing slowness I thought the world would end. Jack was still cold and distant, kissing me out of habit and late for dinner every night. He bought a new cologne, one he had never worn before, and his clothes often smelled of a perfume I know I wasn't wearing. Two days later to the minute I was back in Race's dingy office.

"Got the goods?" I asked anxiously, pacing the room.

"Ah, well…………."

"Race! Tell me everything!" I yelled, pointing a shaking finger at him. "I've been in hell for two days! Don't make me wait any longer!"

"Alright." He sighed heavily and sucked on his cigar. "Jack is having an affair – "

"I knew it, the bastard – "

"With a woman named Angelina Specks. Do you know her?"

"No, I don't." I said thoughtfully. "Who is she?"

"She's another reporter for the World. Apparently, the only woman there. Quiet a sex goddess, so I hear. They have been seeing each other for the last five months, meeting in an apartments on the West Side. Here's the address – "

He rattled off some numbers that meant nothing to me.

"Higgins, I want details. Evidence."

Shrugging, he produced a pink slip of stationary, a hair comb, a bill and a pair of panties.

"This," He said, pointing to the stationary, "Is a note from this Angelina to Jack. You can read it for yourself. I found it in the pocket of his pants."

"How did you get to his pants?" I asked, confused.

"In your apartment. I picked the lock. As I was saying, this hair comb I found in his sock drawer, filled with black hair. Neither you nor Jack has black hair; Angelina does. This bill is for the Hotel Plaza back in May, registered under the name Mr. And Mrs. Spock. And these panties," he held up the pink garment with a devilish wink, "I somehow cant picture you wearing."

I was so mad the world was red for a minute before I gained my bearings. "I am going to kill him." I said through clenched teeth, snapping up the evidence and flouncing out of there after a hasty thank you to Race.

Revenge was not long in coming.

***************************************************

The questions continue; she is growing tired of them but forces herself to stay awake. Officer Black has joined them, standing next to her chair.

"Do you know of your husband had any enemies?"

"I don't think so………." She says faintly.

"What could a possible motive for the murder be, do you have any idea?" He looks at her again, with a harsh gaze.

"I'm sorry, Officer, this has been a stressful day…………I don't suppose we could continue tomorrow?" She asks.

"I'm sorry, better sooner than later. Did your husband have any relatives?"

"Yes, his father was Matt Sullivan. He is in prison now."

"Interesting………….." O'Connor mutters. "You realize that your husband was shot with a .45, pretty hard to come buy in these parts. It was a decorated one too, handmade, expensive. We found it right next to the body."

"That's……horrible." She whispers.

"I think that's enough for now." O'Connor says, realizing he is not making any headway. "I will get back to you within the next couple of days. Don't worry," he says comfortingly, "we'll find the man who killed your husband."

They would never find the man who killed Jack……………….

*****************************************

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It means the world to me! *sniff*

Bottles: Yeah, I tried saving this as HTML. Still didn't work – I guess it's too long. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it! And I'm glad Sarah don't make you wanna vomit. I actually like Sarah. *blushes*

Rumor: Here's more, my dear! I got this idea from a very weird convo, though I have never been married.

Omni: But don't we all love Jack when hes……..bad?

Spotted One: ????cant imagine what happened here.??? I kinda miss the ???, too. You ????know??? Ha, I was laughing my a—off. Hehe. ?????

Black Fire: Don't give the whole thing away! *slap* Keep your mouth shut! Lol, just kidding, your just too smart for me.

Ember: Darling, here's more, just like you asked for!

Appolliana: Maybe Jack gets snuffed out, maybe not. Hehe, I'll never tell.

Thumbsicker Snitch: No! Not Snitch on my sorry a--! He's supposed to be on Skittery's sorry a--! (sorry, I couldn't resist.)