Meanwhile, Max realized
his shirt is soaked through with perspiration. The stress and anxiety of his
missing daughter, the reporter ambush, and now talking to the police was taking
a toll on his nerves. He thought he was coping, but apparently he was wrong.
Max hated to sweat. He hated how it felt as much as how it looked. Sweat made
people look like liars. Just ask Richard Nixon. Sweat cost him the debate with
Kennedy and ultimately the election. Almost as though his car had a mind of its
own and could read his thoughts, the car turned right onto the street where Max
lived. At least the car tried to take him home.
The street was blocked
by police cars, an ambulance, two fire trucks and the fire chief’s SUV. A
uniformed policeman stepped up to his car to say “You can’t come this way,
sir.”
Max pulled over to the
curb and got of out of the car. “I live on this street, officer. Which house is
on fire?”
“The fifth house from
the end on the other side of the street.”
“That’s my house!” Max replied.
“Sorry, sir. The fire department
is doing everything they can. You’ll have to stay back.”
Max debated with himself
about what to do next. That officer wasn’t going to let him get any closer.
There was nothing to do but wait. Should he go to the precinct as planned? At
least now his soaked through shirt was understandable of a man who’s daughter
is missing and whose house is burning to the ground. He returned to the car and
pulled a small notepad from the glove compartment. He wrote down his name and
phone number which he quickly crossed through and wrote his cellphone number.
There wasn’t any point in giving the man the phone to the house under the
circumstances.
“Shit!” The page tore
into instead of tearing off the pad. He wadded it up and tossed it to the
floor. He wrote the note again but without the earlier mistake. Everything
happens for a reason after all he cheered himself. The notepad easily
relinquished the second page. Max found the officer and handed him the note.
“Here’s my name and cellphone
number. I’m on my way to the precinct to meet with Detective Hathorne. Please
call me when the fire is out so I can try to salvage some of my things.”
“Will do, sir, but it
may be a while.”
With only a nod, Max
returned to his car and drove away. As he parked his car, Max saw Detective
Hathorne waiting in front.
“I was beginning to
think you had had an accident.”
“I was in a way. I
passed my house on the way here. Fire trucks filled the street. My house is on
fire.”
“How awful. No wonder
you were late. Do they have the fire under control?
“Controlled I think, but
not extinguished. The police officer guarding the street said he would call me
when I can go back to see if there is anything I can salvage. I mentioned I was
coming to see you. I also gave him my cell number.”
“Fine, fine. This
shouldn’t take long. I know you must be frazzled by the day you’re having.”
“I am. The house is
insure of course, but still, there’s the little irreplaceable things you
collect―.”
“There is that, Max. I
may call you Max? However, I was referring to your daughter’s disappearance
without a clue, or even any possible reliable witnesses. A house can be
replaced, but a little girl?”
“All the more reason I
hope to find a photograph of her and some of her toys and things. Those are the
things I referred to, Detective. I couldn’t care less about the rest of it, but
I have to save something for Daphne to have when she is found.” Max’s voice
trembled and his eyes welled up as he spoke.
Detective Hathorne was
about to say something when the door opened after a quick double knock. Officer
Lewis said, “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but could I speak with you a minute
outside?”
“Of course, Officer.
Sorry, Max. I‘ll be right back.” Detective Hawthorne stood up and was behind
the closed door before Max could think of a response.
A few minutes later
Detective Hathorne returned. His demeanor was a lot more serious. “Mr. Winters,
would you mind following me please? We need to continue our conversation in a
more accommodating setting.”
“Sure. It’s all the same
to me, Detective.” Max wondered what had changed, why he was now Mr. Winters
instead of Max. Somehow he knew he really didn’t really want to know the
answer, so he kept quiet.
The two men followed
Officer Lewis down a hallway and into a formal interrogation room. Max was
directed to a seat facing the requisite two-way mirror. The shirt that had
dried out began to stick to his back again.
“Are Alice and the Mad
Hatter on the other side there?” Max asked with a tone of forced cheerfulness.
“What?” Hathorne asked.
“Take a seat, Mr.
Winters,” Officer Lewis instructed.
Max promptly did as he
was told. He didn’t like this woman Lewis and tried very hard to not show it.
“Oh! I get it!” said
Hathorne. “You were referring to Alice and the Looking Glass. No, Mr. Winters,
I’m afraid this is not a fairytale no matter how much you may wish it to be.”
Max sat there and
wondered what was to happen next. Lewis and Hathorne stared at Max as though he
was expected to say something. So he did. “Have you found my daughter? Is that
why we’re here?”
The two stone faces on
the other side of the table maintained their silence.
“Is it bad news? Is
Daphne, is my little girl―?”
“Your daughter has been
found, Mr. Winters,” Detective Hathorne said while Officer Lewis scowled.
“Is she all right?”
“She’s a bit shaken up,
but she seems to be fine. She’s at the hospital now being examined.”
“Oh, thank God! Thank
God!” Max said with tears rolling down both cheeks. “Where was she? Where did
you find her? Was anyone with her?”
“You can cut the
grateful, happy father act, Mr. Winters,” Officer Lewis said. “You know where
we found her so why don’t you come clean and tell us the truth about how she
got there.” Officer Lewis spat her words like she was ridding her mouth of an
unpleasant taste.
“We found your daughter
in you basement, Mr. Winters. Do you want to continue the story from here?”
Hathorne asked.
“In my basement? How in
the hell did she get in the basement?”
“Are you really going to
continue this innocent act, Mr. Winters?” Officer Lewis accused.
“Innocent act? What act?
I’m happy you found her of course, especially ―. Wait. Was she in the fire? Is
that what you’re telling me?”
“Firefighters found her
once they had knocked down the flames.”
“But she is all right?
You said she is all right. She is all
right?
“She is fine as far as
we could tell without a thorough medical exam, Mr. Winters.” Officer Lewis
answered. “What we want you to tell us is why you had your daughter handcuffed
to a chair in your basement while you were running around telling everybody she
had been abducted. That’s the big question here, Mr. Winters.”
“Handcuffed? I don’t
know what you’re talking about! I swear to you I took Daphne to her friend’s
birthday party. When I went back she was gone and nobody around there knows
anything about anyone living in the house or the party. I’ve been worried sick.
And now you have the balls to sit here and accuse me of some kind of scam while
I kept my little girl handcuffed in my basement and set the house on fire? You
people must be out of your fucking minds!” Max stopped when he heard the f-word
fly out of his mouth. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t usually swear like that. I
apologize, Office Lewis, especially to you.”
“Save it, Mr. Winters,”
there was that knife edge tone again which Max could slap her for using to him.
“You know, Officer
Lewis, when someone is apologizing to you the least you could try to not be
such a bitch!” There. Max had finally told her what he thought about her.
“All right. Let’s cut
the name calling,” Hathorne said. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Officer
Lewis, perhaps it would be better if you left the room. I see no point in you
two antagonizing each other. That’s not the reason we’re here.”
“Fine,” Officer Lewis
said as she stood up and left the room.
“Mr. Winters, let’s get
back to how your daughter ended up handcuffed in your basement.”
“Detective, I’ve already
told you. I don’t know.”
“Okay, Mr. Winters.
Let’s watch one of the videos we also recovered from the fire and you can tell
me about it.”
Hathorne stood and
walked over to a video monitor and pressed the play button. The video showed a
young girl sitting on a small chair.
“Is this your daughter,
Mr. Winters?”
“Yes. That’s Daphne.
What is this?
“Let’s see keep
watching. I think things will become clear to you as we go along.”
A man’s voice instructed
her to take off her shoes and socks. The girl began to cry. She said no. The
man told her if she did what she was told she could go outside and play
afterwards. So the girl removed her shoes and socks. Hathorne stopped the
video.
“I don’t think we need
to see any more to understand where this is going, do we, Mr. Winters? How long
have you been abusing your daughter, Mr. Winters?”
“I have never touched my
daughter, not like that.”
“Is that not your voice
we hear coaching her in the video?
“I will tell you again,
Detective Hathorne. I have never touched my daughter.”
“You just display her on
video and sell her online to men who get their rocks off with children, Mr.
Winters?”
“I want to call my
lawyer. I’m entitled to legal counsel. I’m not saying another word until my
lawyer is here.”
“Fine. I’m happy to
offer you one of our guest suites. Just answer me this: what is it with guys
like you who would trade anything for sex with a child?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You have to know this
isn’t the only video we saved for you. You will go to prison for child sexual
abuse and maybe even arson.”
“Why would you guys even
think to look at some videos from a burned out house, Detective?”
“That so called crazy
wife of yours. She finally got someone to listen to her. She didn’t stab you in
your sleep as you claimed. She was protecting the little girl. She told us
about your movie business.”
“And you believe her?”
“Wouldn’t you if you
were me? You look tired, Mr. Winters. Let’s get you checked in so you can lie
down and get some rest.”
Two male officers
entered the room. One of them handcuffed Max as Hathorne advised Max Winters of
his rights. After being photographed and fingerprinted Max asked if he could
wash the ink off his fingers.
“The ink will wear off.
Besides, your cellmates will all have dirty fingers anyway,” Hathorne said.
Max was put into a cell
with three other men who seemed to take no notice of him. One of them pointed
to one of the lower bunks and told Max, “That one’s yours.” Max laid down
facing the wall.
“Hey, Mister Sociable!
Wha’ did ya do?” one asked.
“They say I set my house
on fire.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Know who did?”
“Sorry. I’m really
tired. I need some sleep,” Max replied without ever turning to face the other
men. He quickly drifted off to sleep.
“Did you really think no
one knew about you and your little jerk circle of friends, Max?” Rebecca asked.
“How could you do that
to a child, especially your own daughter, Mr. Winters?”
“Mrs. Danvers, I wouldn’t
do anything to harm Daphne. You know me, Mrs. Danvers. Do you really think I
would hurt her? This is all Rebecca’s insane accusations. We’ve all somehow
gotten trapped in her vengeful madness. I-I’m not what you think.”
“That’s what we’re all
discovering Max. You need to take some time for self examination. You need to
see your sin, repent and ask God’s forgiveness.” Catherine now had joined the
group. The same Catherine Rebecca envied for her beauty, her better husband,
and for Max’s affection was now one of his accusers.
“Catherine, you of all
people should know I am not guilty of this! We’ve taken our daughters on
outings together numerous times. Did you ever see anything that would make you
join forces with Rebecca to punish me?”
“You really out to
confess your sin, Max. God can’t forgive you if you don’t acknowledge what you
have done,” Rebecca said.
“And if I don’t?”
“If you don’t, we all
have knives. Show Max your knives everyone.” Rebecca, Catherine, and Mrs.
Danvers displayed their weapons. “We will kill you right here.”
“If I confess I’ll go to
prison. You’re not giving me any choice.”
“It’s more of a choice
than you ever gave Daphne, Max. So what’s it going to be?”
“I cannot confess to
something I’m not guilty of.”
“Max, just say the words
and get it over with,” said Giles who had arrived late. The smell of alcohol on
his breath filled the room. “Confession is such a simple statement to make,
Max, and it’s good for the soul.”
“Mr. Winters, this is
the classic case of damned if you do and damned if you don’t. You’re getting to
chose how and when you die. Not many people get such an opportunity.”
“Mrs. Danvers, please be
reasonable here. You’ve been in my home. You’ve taken care of Daphne. Did she
ever even hint that I had hurt her?”
“Drop the act, Max,
please. You were willing to stage a kidnapping so you could go on television
and tell people how you don’t have any money for a ransom. You even rehearsed
tearing up with a brave face. You thought people would send you money to get
your little girl back. That’s you idea of a loving father?”
“Catherine, you’re
twisting what I said. I was only thinking out loud. You know what I’ve been up
against. Geez, Catherine! Help me out here. Don’t toss me an anchor and tell me
to swim! I can’t. No one can.”
“So we’re back to the
poor me’s, is that it, Max? You touched our daughter and filmed it. Your hands
are dirty, Max. You’ve made our daughter dirty.”
“We tried to purify her
with the fire, Mr. Winters, but some busybody call 9-1-1.”
“You? Mrs. Danvers? You
set my house on fire?”
“I told her to, Max.
While I’ve been away I’ve had nothing to occupy my time except writing letters.
I wrote to our friends and neighbors and told them all about you and your
filthy proclivities,” Rebeca announced with the pride of a master chess player.
“It took a few tries, but as you see, they eventually came around.”
“I can’t believe this. I’m
in an episode of the Twilight Zone! You’ve all gone mad.”
“Maxwell Winters, you
stand accused of the worst kind of sinful behavior with your daughter. Will you
confess your crimes and be forgiven by God and man? Or will you persist in your
lies which serve only to increase the magnitude of your wrongdoing?” Giles
asked as acting judge.
“I told you before. I
cannot and will not confess to something I didn’t do.”
“You have left us no
choice,” Giles replied. “Everyone raise your knives.”
Max woke to being pulled
off his bed onto the floor. He looked at his finger tips to see if the ink was
still on them. His fingers were clean. His relief led him to the mistaken
impression he had been dreaming and was now awake. He opened his eyes and saw
his cellmates standing over him. Metal glistened from their cocked fists.
“You lied, motherfucker.
You messed with your little girl. That’s why you’re in here. Here’s how we
clean scum outta our cell here.” All three of the men planted their weapons
into Max’s chest and stomach at once. The only sound Max made was like the air
being released from a yellow balloon that tried to pass itself off as the sun
one day at a party.
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