Page 11 of Kill For Me Kill For You
Mosley smiled then turned and opened the door to Ruth’s hospital room. Two people came inside. One man, one woman. One tall, one short. Both wore black suits and woollen overcoats. The tall one introduced himself as Detective Andrew Farrow, and his partner was Detective Karen Hernandez. The smaller one had a tattoo of a bird on the back of her hand, the same hand that held a pen. She sat and opened a notebook, ready to take notes. Farrow approached the bed. He walked stiffly, as if in pain, and swept a lock of blond hair from his eyes as he looked down upon her. He was still a young man. Early forties, maybe.
‘Mrs. Gelman, do you mind if I call you Ruth?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Ruth is fine.’
‘Thank you. I’ve stood by a lot of beds in a lot of hospitals. Each time it’s different. A lot of people can’t talk about what happened to them. If you are able to answer some of our questions, it would be a big help. If you need to stop for a while, my partner and I can go kick back, drink coffee and eat donuts.’
Then he leaned over a little, and whispered, ‘One of the perks of being a cop.’ He winked. ‘So please don’t feel under pressure to talk for too long. I just want to ask a few questions now, and then we’ll let you rest.’
Ruth nodded. Farrow seemed to wince a little as he straightened up, his hand reaching for his lower back.
‘I want to ask you about the attack. We have it recorded as occurring on Friday, September fourteenth. Your 911 call came in just before midnight. What do you remember about that night?’ he said.
She licked her dry lips, and remembered Scott going out and leaving her alone in the apartment. Watching a movie. Wine. Then bed, then it was all a little hazy until . . .
‘I woke up late that night. I heard a noise downstairs. Glass breaking. I thought it was Scott at first. I went downstairs and I saw the back door had been broken. The window I mean. Then I saw a reflection . . .’
Farrow nodded but didn’t say anything.
‘A man was standing behind me. He had blue eyes; I know that. They were really clear and bright. He had high cheekbones. They sat out, sharply. And a square jaw. Dark hair. He grabbed me, put something over my mouth and I blacked out. Whatever it was had a strong, chemical smell. I remember waking up, and he was gone. There was blood everywhere. I crawled to the table in the hall and I got the phone, but I don’t remember much about that.’
Nodding, Farrow said, ‘I know this is hard, but it’s important. Can you remember anything else about him? Any facial scars? Birthmarks? That kind of thing?’
Ruth thought hard, her jaw trembling, her gaze rigidly fixed on the ceiling.
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Could you describe his clothing?’
‘It was dark, black. I don’t know what kind.’
‘Did he speak or threaten you before he grabbed you?’
Ruth gasped at the memory.
‘He did say something.’
Farrow looked to Hernandez. They exchanged a glance before he turned back to Ruth.
‘What did he say, Ruth?’
‘He-he said, “Hi there, sweetheart.” Or something like that . . . God.’
Her free hand covered her mouth, and Scott took her by the shoulders, held her, as if he were bracing her for an earthquake.
‘Do you remember what time you went downstairs?’
Ruth shook her head.
‘Do you think you would be able to recognize this man if you saw him again?’
She nodded.
‘Thank you, Ruth. We will need to do a further interview when you’re feeling a little better. Is there anything else you can tell us now?’
She shook her head again, sobbing into her palm.
‘Have you found this guy?’ asked Scott.
