Chapter 2

Sofia was pissed. She had been arrested by a dark-suited detective by the name of Wilson, who worked for Internal Affairs. Judge Alder had been found dead in his bed from gunshot wounds a few hours earlier. Wilson maintained that she was the shooter which was totally preposterous. Sure, she was angry about the trial, but that didn't mean she had hunted down the judge and shot him while he slept. After Wilson and the uniforms had barged through her front door and tackled her to the floor like a criminal, Sofia was then perp-walked through Central Booking and dumped in an interview room. There she sat alone in the room with except for a Uniform who was guarding her, waiting for the interrogation to begin.

The time passed slowly and as Sofia sat there she tried to retrace her steps from the previous night. It was no use, she was drawing a complete blank. She had no idea how she made it back to her place after the bar. She didn't remember talking to anyone other than the barman and she had no idea how long she spent there drinking. If IA did have evidence to link her to Alder's murder she was going to have a hard time putting up a plausible defense.

Suddenly the door swung open and Wilson strode in. He was followed rather sheepishly by Sara Sidle who was the CSI assigned to Alder's case. Sofia's eyes widened when she spotted Sara. She and the CSI didn't exactly see eye to eye and Sofia was sceptical that Sara would be on her side.

"Detective Curtis," Wilson said as he took a chair at the opposite side of the table to Sofia.

Sofia didn't reply, she just continued to sit there, stony-faced, staring at Wilson.

"I'm sure you know CSI Sidle," continued Wilson. "She's here to take some samples..."

"I know the drill!" snapped Sofia.

Wilson cocked his head and clucked his tongue at the outburst. He hadn't even asked her a single question and already Sofia was rattled. She scolded herself inwardly for losing control so easily.

"So let's get started," said Wilson opening up a manila folder. "Where were you between the hours of midnight and two a.m. last night?"

"What's all this about?" asked Sofia.

"I'm asking the questions here," replied Wilson sharply. "So I'll say again, where were you last night?"

Sofia paused for a moment, rolled her eyes, and sighed, "I went to a bar, I think it's called Cody's. I had a few drinks, then I went home."

"Did you go there with anyone?" asked Wilson.

"I wasn't in a sociable mood," came Sofia's sarcastic reply.

"So no-one can corroborate your whereabouts?" asked Wilson.

"Well," replied Sofia, "There was a barman there, I don't know his name, but he served me all evening."

"What did he look like?" asked Wilson.

"About five ten, two hundred pounds, forty-ish, scraggly beard, greying hair tied up in a pony-tail," replied Sofia.

Wilson jotted down some notes before continuing, "And what time did you leave?"

Sofia hesitated and shifted in her seat. Wilson jerked his head up from his notebook and looked at her intently. Sara was also surprised by Sofia's reaction and stared at her.

"It's a simple question Detective," probed Wilson.

Sofia narrowed her eyes and replied, "I'm not exactly sure what time I left the bar. I had a few drinks and lost track of time."

"Really?" said Wilson, clearly not convinced by Sofia's answer. "And how did you get home?"

"I don't remember," sighed Sofia.

"So let me get this straight," said Wilson, "you went to a bar alone, don't know what time you left or how you got home? It sounds a little convenient, don't you think?"

"It's not a bit convenient!" Sofia's voice was trembling with anger, "None if this is convenient. I mean you barged into my home, man-handled me, dragged me through my own precinct in front of my colleagues, cuffed like a criminal. And you haven't even the decency to tell me why the hell you're holding me here! What the hell is going on?" Sofia banged the table and gesticulated wildly.

Wilson sat back in his chair and smirked. He really had her rattled and he wondered what she was hiding.

"We found evidence that places you at the scene of Judge Alder's murder," he said.

Sofia shook her head, "Wha... what evidence?"

"Have you ever visited Judge Alder's house?" asked Wilson.

"Of course not," replied Sofia bruskly.

"Well we found your prints in his room," said Wilson.

"That's impossible," snapped Sofia.

"We also recovered a weapon at the scene." Wilson looked over a Sara, "CSI Sidle, would you do the honors please?"

Sara stood up, reached into her kit bag and removed a swab. She walked over to Sofia, "Can I have your right hand please, Detective?" she asked coldly.

Sofia scowled at her and reluctantly offered her hand. Sarah ran the swab across Sofia's palm, the back of the hand and wrist before capping the swab in a vial of solution. After a couple of minutes blue specks appeared on the swab.

"The test is positive for GSR," Sarah said clinically.

Sofia's face contorted when she saw the swab. "What is this, are you setting me up Sidle?" she roared.

Sara was shaken by Sofia's verocity and took a couple of steps back. The Uniform stiffened, ready to jump in.

Wilson raised his hand towards the Uniform and motioned to Sarah to sit down. "Do you understand how much trouble you're in, Detective?" he asked.

Sofia searched around the room looking confused. "I don't understand, what exactly are you saying?"

"Come on Curtis, you know what's happening here," said Wilson. "You went to Alder's house, fueled up on alcohol, still pissed over the mistrial. You broke into his house walked into his bedroom and shot him twice while he slept."

"No!" shouted Sofia.

Wilson was on his feet now, pacing the room.

He continued, "Then once you were sure he was dead, you retraced your steps, cleaning up the evidence as you went. Only you were drunk so you made mistakes and left some evidence behind." Wilson was towering over Sofia now and she flinched when she felt his breath on her neck.

"No, that didn't happen. There's no way I could do something like that, I'm a cop!" pleaded Sofia.

"A cop who lost a case, blamed the Judge and sought revenge," shouted Wilson.

"That's not true," argued Sofia.

"Then how do you explain this?" Wilson reached across Sofia and grabbed the manila folder. He slammed down a picture in front of her. Sofia's eyes widened as she studied the photo, the realisation finally dawning on her. It was a picture of the shirt she was wearing yesterday, spattered in blood.

"Do you recognise this, Curtis?" growled Wilson. "You should, we found it in your laundry basket. It's in the lab being tested as we speak and when they match the blood stains to Alder, you'll be history."

Sofia was reeling, she couldn't believe what was happening. There was no way she could possibly have shot Alder, but she couldn't explain the evidence in front of her. She straightened up in her chair and her face hardened.

"I want a lawyer."