[ WP ] You are an actor , hired by parents to pretend to be a troubled boy 's imaginary friend .

“ Have a seat Mrs. Gordon. ” 
 “ Thank you, um, officer? ” Mrs. Gordon glanced around the room. As a member of the PTA she probably had never had seen the inside of an interrogation room the detective thought. 
 
 “ It ’ s detective Horafeson ma ’ am. ” 
 
 “ Ok. ” 
 
 “ Let ’ s start with the basics, first, you are being recorded. ” 
 
 “ Ok. ” 
 
 “ Also, you ’ re aware you can stop this interview at any time, and that you are entitled to have an attorney present. ” He had been surprised when she informed him that she didn ’ t need an attorney. These types usually showed up with an army of lawyers and the interrogations were generally annoying. She had shown up alone. 
 
 
 “ Yes offi…detective. ” 
 
 “ Ok, so tell me about last Friday night. ” 
 
 “ We had dinner, chicken and corn, then helped Brian with his homework and then we went to bed around 10:00 pm, after Nightline. ” 
 
 “ Do you and your husband always *both* help Brian with his homework? ” The detective found it was helpful in interrogations to trip up the suspects early on, put them on their heels. 
 
 
 “ Yes, it ’ s nice family time, and Brian seems to appreciate it. ” 
 
 
 “ But always? ” 
 
 
 “ Oh, I guess not always, Herbert, my Husband, missed two nights last month because of work. ” The detective stared at the pastel clad woman sitting opposite him. She was wearing a light blue skirt and a yellow blouse. Her legs were crossed and she sat up straight in the chair. 
 
 
 “ Do you keep a log of when your husband misses homework nights? ” 
 
 
 “ No, I just have a great memory, I won an award for it back in high school. ” She smiled again, but the smile didn ’ t extend to her eyes. It was a syndrome the detective saw all too often here in the hills of LA, it often went with red-soled shoes and Spanish handbags. 
 
 “ How old is Brian? ” He decided to change track, try to ask her about her son. 
 
 “ He ’ s seven, going to be eight in a few days. ” 
 
 “ Great age, so curious then. So last Friday, anything happen after you went to bed? Hear any strange noises? ” 
 
 “ No detective, my husband and I are sort of heavy sleepers. ” 
 
 “ You didn ’ t hear any bumps, unusual creaks? ” 
 
 “ No ” 
 
 “ What about before bed, when you were watching TV, any noises? ” 
 
 “ We heard Brian flush the toilet around nine-thirty, I remember asking my husband to go check on him, because he usually sleeps all through the night. ” The detective glanced down at his notes, the husband had told the exact same story. 
 
 “ And did he? ” 
 
 “ Yes, he went upstairs for a few minutes, and came back down. ” 
 
 “ Are you sure about the few minutes part? ” 
 
 “ Oh yes, he waited until the commercial break and he was back before the show came back on. ” 
 
 “ Ok, so let ’ s back up a bit, how did you know Howard Watts? ” 
 
 “ Who? ” 
 
 “ Howard Watts, the actor found dismembered in your bathtub. ” He ’ d been waiting the entire interview so far to pop this question and was left totally baffled by her lack of emotion. A veteran detective, he ’ d seen hundreds of bodies, but this one had given him nightmares he thought he ’ d left behind in his rookie years. Hell, even the ME had been disturbed by the scene. But this woman just stared impassively at him, answering his questions like she was chatting with a friend. 
 
 
 “ Oh, Howie, we hired him to kill my sons imaginary friend. ” 
 
 “ Excuse me? ” 
 
 “ Well, Brian ’ s been having some nightmares the past few months, and he invented an imaginary friend, and I spoke to one of the other moms at PTA and she recommended hiring an actor to play the imaginary friend, and then staging a fake death, so the friend would die. ” She did air quotes when she mentioned friend and smiled at the detective. 
 
 
 “ Wait a second, you wanted to get rid of an imaginary friend by showing a bloody corpse to your six year old son? ” Thirty-four years on the force and two kids and he ’ d never heard of this method to get rid of imaginary friends. 
 
 “ Seven, my son is seven. And he wasn ’ t supposed to die that way. He was going to choke on a fishbone next week at dinner. ” 
 
 “ Ma ’ am, if you don ’ t mind me saying so, that seems like an insane way to get rid of an imaginary friend. ” 
 
 “ I don ’ t mind, Brian ’ s therapist recommended against it as well, but some of the other mothers told me that grief is easier to treat than imaginary friends. ” 
 
 “ Brian has a therapist? ” 
 
 “ Yes, we go together to the office on Wednesdays. ” 
 
 “ You two are in therapy together? ” 
 “ Oh no, Brian sees Dr. Loncroft, I see Dr. Quinzel. ” 
 
 “ What do you see Dr. Quinzel for? ” 
 
 “ I ’ d rather not talk about it. ” She smiled across the desk at the detective and suddenly the detective felt afraid, in the middle of the police station, with hundreds of other cops all around. But it was just him, in the room with this woman. 
 
 
 He took a second to shuffle through his notes, he hadn ’ t anticipated getting this far without some sort of break. The working hypothesis was that there was some sort of love triangle and the husband had committed the murder. His plan had been to crack the wife, get her to disprove the husbands alibi, but he was failing so far, everything she had said lined up perfectly with the husband, the TV, the homework, the flushing toilet. He took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes before launching into another line of questioning. 
 
 
 “ Mrs. Gordon, have you ever seen a dead body? ” 
 
 “ Yes detective. ” He swore there was a slight curl to the edges of her mouth, but when he looked again, it was gone. 
 
 “ When? ” 
 
 “ Well, when I was eleven, my father died, he choked on a fish bone. I went to his funeral. ” 
 
 “ Ok… ” She interrupted him before he could continue. 
 
 “ And last Friday when I found poor Howie in Brian ’ s bathroom. I assume he was dead then. ” 
 
 “ Yes, he was missing his head and his arms. ” 
 
 “ Well, I ’ m not a medical expert, I just saw the blood and called the paramedics. ” The detective glanced down at the report. A 911 call had originated from Mrs. Gordon ’ s cell phone at 10:03. He ’ d listened to the recording, she sounded totally flat, he ’ d attributed it to shock at the time, now he wasn ’ t so sure. 
 
 
 “ Mrs. Gordon, did you kill Howard Watts? ” He hadn ’ t planned asking her the question, because based on the level of damage and violence, they ’ d assumed it was a guy. 
 
 
 “ Why would I kill Howard Watts? ” He noticed that she did not answer the question. 
 
 “ Were you and Howard having an affair? ” 
 
 “ No, we simply hired Howie because he was an actor. ” 
 
 “ But you have to admit he was a good looking guy, tall blond hair, Australian accent. ” 
 
 “ I do not appreciate your insinuation detective, I find my husband attractive. ” 
 
 “ Hell, even I found Howie attractive and I ’ m a straight guy. ” He thought he ’ d seen twitch, something in the corners of the mouth when they ’ d started the questioning. 
 
 “ Well, detective, if I recall, the only time you saw him was when he was dismembered, so perhaps you should see a therapist if that ’ s what you find attractive. ” He laughed, and she responded with another dead-eyed smile. Perfect white teeth peeked out from behind her pink lips. 
 
 “ Good point Mrs. Gordon. So do you think your husband could have mistakenly suspected you were having an affair with Howard? ” 
 
 “ No, my husband trusts me completely. ” 
 
 “ No marital discord in the Gordon household? ” 
 
 “ No. ” 
 
 `` Excuse me ma'am, have to run to the bathroom.'' 
 
 
 The detective excused himself. Occasionally he ’ d leave the suspect in a room alone for a few minutes, usually ten did it, and they were a lot more talkative when he returned. He went to the bathroom and googled Dr. Quinzel. Her website showed a smiley blond woman and a bearded man beside her, Dr. Loncroft presumably. Dr. Loncroft had an entire page devoted to his child-psychiatry philosophy as well as testimonials about bed-wetting and night terrors. Dr. Quinzel ’ s just said that she had worked in the clinic for five years. He did a quick search on court ordered psychiatric evaluations, see if Dr. Quinzel seemed to specialize in anything specific. He had been expecting addiction, or family counseling, instead he found that she was had testified in several trials regarding the sanity of psychopaths. He sat for a second and let the pieces fall into place in his head, then he stalked off across the station back to the interrogation room. 
 
 
 “ Mrs. Gordon, how did you kill Howard? ” The detective slammed the door and sat down across from Mrs. Gordon. It was the only piece that did n't fit. She didn ’ t bat an eyelash, didn ’ t even blink. He thought he saw the slight smile again, but it was gone just as quickly. 
 
 “ Why do you think I killed him? ” 
 
 
 “ Because you just seem so damn calm about it and you ’ re seeing that psychopath doc and he was killed in your bathroom and… ” The detective stumbled, that really was all he had. 
 
 
 “ But still detective, it seems like it be awfully hard for me to tear a man ’ s arms off, let alone do it with my son sleeping next door and my husband downstairs, don ’ t you think? ” 
 
 
 The detective looked down at his notes. He sighed and slumped down a little further into the chair. She was right of course, they hadn ’ t found any blood outside the bathroom, and he sure as hell couldn ’ t figure out how she had torn the man limb from limb in the confines of the bathroom. Hell he didn ’ t even know how much force was required to do such a feat. 
 
 
 `` Am I under arrest detective?'' 
 
 
 `` No'' He reached forward and turned off the recorder. `` Look, I know you did it, and I'm going to prove it.'' 
 
 `` That's nice detective.'' She got up and smiled at him, only this time the smile shone in her eyes. “ A hundred and ninety-five pounds detective ” 
 
 
 “ Excuse me? ” She had crossed the room and had opened the door. 
 
 
 “ It takes about a hundred and ninety-five pounds to rip a man ’ s arm from his socket. ” She walked out. The detective jumped up and grabbed the door before it shut, but in the two seconds it had taken him to follow her, she had disappeared into the crowd of police officers. 

