The Giant of Hampton Bays

The police found Simeon hiding in the house his deceased mother had left him.  It was located across the street from the inn where I was staying. They discovered him lying on the bathroom floor almost dead from liver disease.  When arrested, Simeon informed the officers that he wanted to take advantage of a special arrangement he’d heard about that was being offered by a local hospital to terminally ill prison inmates.  That is how he wound up at the Vincent-Marcus Center.

Simeon’s story did honestly grip me.  However, as soon as the police officer finished telling it, I remembered Mitch and bolted back to his room.  But it was too late. Mitch was no longer writhing – nor breathing.  I bent over his body, pressed my forehead into his shoulder and began to sob. Moments later I was pushed away by Dr. Marcus who appeared suited up for surgery.  I had no strength to protest the matter.

I left the hospital and drove and cried for hours. Eventually I returned to the inn and fell asleep, exhausted from so much weeping. The following afternoon, while still lying in bed, I heard banging on the door accompanied by an authoritative command. “Open up, Keenan, this is the police!” The herniated discs in my back made it impossible for me to quickly travel from the bed to the door, so the police opened it themselves with a key supplied by the inn manager. My eyes were then splashed with the visual of several police officers pointing their guns. As they pushed me against the wall I heard one say, “We are arresting you for the murder of Dr. Henry Marcus!” I was handcuffed, brought to the police station and hurried into a room for questioning. A short man with a wolverine-looking haircut and a pubescent-looking moustache approached me and introduced himself, “I am Detective Trulick.”

The he barked, “You participated in Karate tournaments years ago, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

He continued, “And isn’t it true that you were trained by a guy who used to break cement blocks on the Tonight Show?”





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