Shattered 15
Laney had spent the flight reading through those papers her colleague had taken the trouble to research and print. At first, when Sandy noticed, she had mixed feelings. She was ashamed for her behavior last night, though under the circumstances she still felt justified. It was embarrassing for everyone-- but the fact that her friend was showing some interest in reviewing the incriminating pages was a bit hopeful. Ignoring the empty seat between them, Sandy leaned in.
"Pretty horrible, isn't it?"
Laney shot her a sour glance and went back to scanning the pages.
"I think it's sad." she sighed.
"Hmm. Sad's a good way to describe him."
"Oh have a little sympathy, Sandy. It's obvious-- if you've bothered to read all this-- Norman wasn't in his right mind when all this happened."
"Oh? And he's cured now?"
"Honestly, you're such a jerk sometimes."
"I'm a jerk? You're the one who was--"
"Alright, alright, leave it alone. You don't know him like I do."
"Laney, you were kids! You don't know him at all. All this stuff happened years later-- his head was messed up--"
"I know Sandy! He went through hell, but he's different now, I'm sure. He told me about it. He'd never hurt me."
Sandy shook her head in disapproval and disbelief. She was certain every one of that guy's victims probably thought the same thing. Even if he was somehow miraculously better now, Ms Chandler had no desire to ever see him again-- even from a distance.
The contents of those pages tugged at Laney's heart; the murders were awful enough-- murders always were-- but Norman's tortured mental condition, his inability to help himself, or even stop, and then being sentenced to live with the guilt. She almost felt responsible herself, if only for not being able to be there for him when he started losing it. Could she have made a difference? A moot point now, but she had vowed to be there for him once the tour was over. He was trying to do the right things, though some people would argue that 'cheating' on a pregnant wife' was a poor way to show it.
No, they couldn't understand. He was entitled to happiness, since he was proven to be mentally incompetent when he took those lives. If he had been sane, deliberate and without remorse, it would be different of course-- he'd be in for life or on death row someplace. But that wasn't Norman. He had been a victim, too, and she would stand by him now, as if she could make up for being absent so long.
The papers were put away, they arrived in LA and prepared for another whirlwind of interviews, appointments, dinner and book signings. There was an evening with the California Children's Book League to get through, and it wasn't until Laney retired to her room at midnight that she switched on the TV for background noise and relaxed.
She was coming out of the bathroom, drying her hair after a soak in the tub, when the television caught her attention.
"Our top story this evening, police have detained a suspect for questioning in the murder of an elderly Irving California resident." The screen was filled with an old stock news photo of Norman, from his arrest years ago. Laney stare in shock. The narrator's voice droned on. "Norman Bates, twice committed to high security mental facilities for a series of brutal murders spanning two decades, was apprehended by police earlier this evening on Interstate 60."
Laney shook her head from side to side, dumbfounded and afraid to hear anymore. It wasn't possible! The camera switched to a scene of Norman in handcuffs, dazed and muddied, surrounded by police as he was led into the station. It was soon replaced by two newsmen and a woman sitting at a studio desk.
"Bates' neighbor, retired school teacher Gloria Harrison was found this morning in her home, a victim the most vicious killing ever reported in this affluent and comfortable community. A Sherriff's department spokesperson gave the estimated time of death at less than six hours prior to discovery, but would not comment on specific cause of death."
A second newscaster took up the thread.
"Some of our viewers may remember the name of Norman Bates being in the news as recently as 5 years ago, when he was committed to the state psychiatric hospital following a killing spree that left four dead."
The third newscaster-- the woman-- interjected with an editorial of her own.
"Bob, Ray-- one has to wonder what he was doing out on the street again, with his violent past."
"Apparently, he was judged restored to sanity, and released into the care of a doctor who became his wife."
"He's married?" It was obviously news to the newsmen.
"Bates has not been arrested." the narration continued for the viewers. "However, police claim he was not fully co-operative when stopped by patrols. He is being questioned regarding his whereabouts during the time of the murder, and why his fingerprints were found in the dead woman's home."
Laney lowered herself onto the couch and was only vaguely aware that her phone was ringing. It was Sandy.
"I just heard." Ms Chandler's voice had a bite to it. "Do you still think he's harmless?"
"He wasn't him." Laney's voice was distant but certain. "The police said the victim had only been dead a few hours-- and Norman was with me last night, hundreds of miles away."
"Come on, Laney! It's just too wild of a co-incidence. He could have murdered her before he ever came to Oakland! Time of death was estimated at the scene-- they'll know more after an M.E. does an examine."
"Stop it, Sandy! It couldn't be him--" Laney had a sudden idea. "I'm his alibi, Sandy-- I have to call the sheriff's department."
"Are you out of your mind?? You can't go public! Your career would be over! You! One of the most popular children's authors in the country-- in the world!! How is that going to look-- admitting you spent the night with a married man, suspected of murder!" "Suspected-- not guilty."
"Even if he had nothing to do with this, by some bizarre chance-- he is still a murderer-- the world knows it."
"I've got to help him. I'll send a lawyer--"
"Don't get involved! He's got other proof he was out of town when she was killed-- IF that was the case. The hotel will have a record, a credit charge or something on file-- even a surveillance tape from the front desk."
"To say nothing of a security guard and a couple of cops, thanks to you."
"Look, I'll make some calls-- you just stay out of it!"
There was no way in hell Laney would stay out of it, career or not, but she let Sandy hang up thinking she'd be a good girl. Until she could think straight, she just sat and stared at the screen. Those geniuses of the media had wasted no time; a hasty collection of photos and newsreel records of Norman's haunted past and crimes had been assembled for a 'retrospective'. Guilty or not, he was being crucified.
Norman sat alone in an interrogation room, elbows resting on the table and wrists stiff in cuffs. Knotted hands hid his face, shutting out the sight of the mirror on the opposite wall. Through its one-way surface, several police and investigators studied him. Some came for a quick look at the celebrity madman, others observed him more closely for their own purposes. None of them could imagine what was going on in his mind.
No, no, no….it can't be real-- this isn't happening! How can Mrs. Harrison be dead?? Where's Connie? What do they want? Dear God, please let it be a bad dream. Oh Laney, Laney, Laney. If you were here everything would be alright. Please don't hate me-- I haven't done anything--
The door opened suddenly, and two men walked in. Norman didn't dare look up. One set a small recorder up and then left. The other took a seat opposite the prisoner and waited in silence.
Norman sniffed a few times, and timidly peered over his fists with red-rimmed eyes.
"Good evening, Mr. Bates. I'm Detective Brian Ackley. I'm working on the investigation."
"W-what investigation?" Norman's mind was too troubled to focus.
"The murder of Mrs. Harrison. Remember? Your neighbor?"
"W-what do you w-want with me? I didn't d-do anything."
"Well, that's what we're here to find out. You've got to admit, with your history and your prints being found in her house, it does look bad for you."
"M-my prints?"
"All over the kitchen. Any idea how they got there?"
Norman shook his head slowly, and this gradually changed to a nod.
"I h-helped her. Last week. A c-cabinet d-door was coming off the h-h-hinge…:
Outside, another man shook his head.
"I don't think that was the only thing coming unhinged."
"Have one of the boys at the scene check it out. See if a hinge looks like it's been scratched or replaced."
Ackley made a note in his book at the same time. He knew even if a cupboard had been repaired, it was a far cry from an alibi.
"Helped out a lot, did you? Around her house?"
Norman lowered his hands, keeping fists balled but setting them on the table.
"S-sometimes. She d-doesn't have anyone to l-look after her, and do little th-things like that."
Ackley glanced at his tablet again.
"You have a stammer." the detective observed. He hadn't noticed a mention of that in the records.
"S-since I w-was little. Not all the time, Only when I'm n-nervous."
"And you're nervous now?"
"W-wouldn't you b-be? I d-didn't hurt Mrs. Harrison. It w-wasn't me."
"Who was it? Your mother?"
"W-what?"
"That was your problem in the past, wasn't it? When you were arrested the first time, it was your mother who told the police everything."
"I w-was sick. Not in my r-right mind."
"And five years ago. When you killed that old woman, those girls and your employee? What was it then?"
"I was…s-sick." Norman wouldn't dare mention that he had willfully killed Duke, in self defense. Or Mrs- Miss- Spool in a moment of-- what was it? You've killed on your own, without mother's help. They know that.
Outside the one-way glass, another investigator shook his head.
"This is going to take all night, if he keeps stuttering."
Ackley leveled his grey eyes at the prisoner.
"Where were you last night?"
Norman tensed. He didn't want to implicate Laney in anything, and tried to sort out the situation without having to get her involved. Something else, just as troublesome, came to mind.
"W-where's C-Connie?"