The Glamorization of Susannah Shayle 2

The first day was uneventful as Detective Durango suspected. They just watched her perform her spousal duties of mourning a deceased husband. She donned on her black Victorian-like dress from neck down all the way to her feet and she hid her hands inside a sable pair of gloves while her face under a caliginous veil. She sat beside the dead body in the dismal room like a lady-in-waiting. It was as though her husband would rise from the bed anytime from his sleep.
Detective Durango glanced at her briefly when he passed. Officers Gocho and Mullek nodded with his approach.
“Anything to report?”
“No Detective, all’s well.”
The detective nodded and continued his gait own the stairs.
“I can’t believe they allow her to keep her husband with her after he’s been stabbed to death. No autopsy, no investigation, nothing. Uh uh.”
“Wow, she must really have some influence on the whole judiciary system,” Officer Mullek replied.
“She’s got a hold of everyone round her little finger.”
“So what’s this about her killing her husband?”
Officer Gocho licked his lower lip and tasted the delectable story which he was about to disclose.
“The maid saw her coming out of the bedroom with a cleaver that night when she murdered him. Her husband was chopped into god knows how many pieces as though he was meat for sale. The woman, Mrs. Shayle, tried to stop the maid but she ran out of the house and brought the police back. We all thought she was in a state of shock when we saw her holding the killing weapon beside her husband when we arrived. But I’ll tell you Frankie, she was as cold and ice and as calm as a bird of prey. She told us she didn’t kill me and insisted she had a way with this three day ceremony before she speaks up. Can you imagine that?” He nudges his colleague.
“She’s mourning for what’s left of that man.”
“That sounds freaky.”
“You think that’s freaky? You should talk t her. She makes you feel like you’re in hell talking to the demon. Mind you, don’t go near her unless you have to. I don’t like the looks of this woman.”
“Yeah, she does look odd.”
“Sick is what I’ll tell you. Sick. The medic put the pieces back together just for her.”
“Fuck, that’s a real fucked up shit alright,” he swallowed hard and caressed his neck with his hand.
They gaze at the composed woman who didn’t seem to have moved an inch since they started keeping an eye on her.

Detective Durango unlocked the door to his apartment and threw the keys onto the side table.
“James, you back?”
A handsome boyish-faced man popped his head out to the hallway to answer.
“Yeah, cookin’.”
“Great I’m starved.”
“How was you day?”
“Strange.”
“How was yours?”
“Stranger.”
James ran out to give his lover a peck on the cheek and ran back in.
“Good we’ll exchange tales at the dinner table.”
“Okay, I’ll go wash up now; I think I’ll have an early night tonight.”