The Giant of Hampton Bays

“Yes.”

“Well, it seems pretty obvious – at least to me – who murdered Dr. Marcus early this morning.” Detective Trulick held his fist close to my face.  “It’s still too early to tell for sure, but my buddies at forensics say that Dr. Marcus’s sternum and heart were destroyed by what looks like a powerful strike from a clenched hand.” He paused and grinned, “You know anybody who can punch like that Johnny?”

Irritated by Trulick’s incompetence, I shot back, “Why would I want to kill this guy?!”

The detective’s voice became smarmy.  “No doubt you blame him for the death of your – um – friend.  Come on, Johnny, you know you want to confess.”

The combination of him implying that Mitch and I were gay and his certainty that I had killed Dr. Marcus made me despise him.  After several hours of grilling me, he became frustrated and I was put in a cell for the rest of the day and the entire night.  The following morning a fat, smiling officer sauntered up to the cage I was in, unlocked it, and proclaimed in a loud voice, “Keenan, you are free to go!”

“Not until I know what’s going on!” I demanded.





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