Page 48 of Secrets in the Dark
Mason nodded to him.
They watched as he stepped from the observation room and in to sit across from Gary Hudson in the interrogation room.
“You!” Hudson said. “You know that I’m innocent! And that bi—that witch of a woman is just trying desperately to prove that she’s up to par with a man! That’s a serious problem these days. She has something in her head. I am being persecuted because she’s inept and feels that she must prove something. My God! She attacked me! They’re claiming that they just wanted to talk to me because I was in the cemetery, then—”
“Why were you in the cemetery?” Edmund asked.
“What?” Hudson was startled by the question and looked confused.
“What were you doing in the cemetery?” Edmund repeated.
“I was just... Well, the cemetery is beautiful! I like to go there.” Hudson quickly regained his indignant behavior. “I like the peace of the cemetery, the landscaping. I walk and I just enjoy the peace before heading to the pub and being the barman. Believe it or not, my work at the pub is much harder than you can imagine. Everyone wants to tell you about their problems. I need to get some time that’s just sweet and clear. Sometimes it’s good just to feel the air, see the sweep of the landscaping, why even smell the earth.”
“Hmm. You know,” Edmund said, “I’m from London myself. And I love to feel the air and enjoy nature. We have forests and parks for that.”
“Well, you know, Manor Park—”
“Is a cemetery,” Edmund said.
Mason nodded to Della and the others, and headed in to join Edmund, sitting across the table from Gary Hudson.
“Ah, look!” Hudson said. “Here he is, the lapdog for the witch!”
“Ah, well, pretty hot witch, huh?” Mason said.
“I keep explaining to them that they’re American. They cannot arrest a Brit. That wicked witch of the west has no power here,” Hudson said to Edmund.
“Technically, you were arrested and taken into custody by a Detective Inspector Watson, the good fellow who brought you in from the cemetery,” Edmund told him.
“You can’t hold me! You have no evidence. You have nothing to charge me with. It isn’t illegal to walk around a cemetery!”
“Wait, even I, an American, know the answer to this. Oh, by the way, much of our law is based on British law, going way back. But that’s neither here nor there at the moment—I know that you can be held for twenty-four hours before being charged.”
“So, I bloody well sit here for twenty-four hours!” Hudson said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Then I do something very American! I sue for police harassment!”
“Good luck with that,” Edmund said, shrugging.
“And here’s the thing,” Mason said. “If you were in the cemetery so innocently, I’m just curious as to the reason you like to hide behind funerary angels,” Mason said.
“I wasn’t hiding behind any angel!” Hudson protested.
“But, um, hmm, yes, you were,” Mason said thoughtfully, his eyes unwavering as he stared at the man and assumed his position, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “You were watching us when we were at the grave. And you pulled a knife and set it against Della’s ribs.”
“No! She attacked me. I was just coming up to say hello!” he protested.
“And got your butt kicked by a woman,” Mason said pleasantly.
“No, I didn’t want to hurt her!” Hudson cried, trying again to appear to be sincere and innocent, a man who could explain everything.
“Well, I secured the knife you were holding on her. And your fingerprints are all over it,” Mason said, shrugging.
“Yeah. ’Cause it’s my knife,” Hudson said.
Della decided it was time to make her entry to the interrogation room.
She opened the door and walked in, smiling. “Yes, but you see, your fingerprints will be on the handle and my blood will be on the tip.”
“You attacked me! I defended myself,” Hudson said. He didn’t sound quite so wounded. She had stirred something in his temper.
