Stepford Meat Swap
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Kris looked up when he saw movement in his peripheral vision. He was at work. He'd never locked the front doors of the station while he worked. He'd never even thought about it. He saw Mitch wave, through the glass wall of the broadcast booth. He was writing while another of the endless supply of pre-recorded tapes wound through the pickups and sent music, like magic, through the air outside. He got up and opened the door.
"Surprised to see you here," he commented.
"Haven't seen you around for a day or two," said Mitch.
Mitch had decided to deliver Harper's request for interview in a slightly different way than he would have it if had involved a "normal" citizen of Pembroke. He wanted to use this opportunity to shake Kris' tree a little bit, just to see if anything fell out of it.
"I need you to come down to the station tomorrow, after lunch," he said.
"Oh?"
"A detective from New York City called me. He wants to talk to you."
He let it lie there, watching for any signs Kris might display. He was not disappointed. There was obvious angst, almost immediately.
"Why?"
"You don't know?"
Kris opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally he said, "Is he going to arrest me?"
"Does he need to arrest you for something?"
Somehow, this wasn't as much fun as Mitch had thought it would be. He wondered why that was, and realized that he liked this man. Then He wondered why he liked him.
"You're still suspicious of me," said Kris. He frowned.
Mitch quit playing games. He wanted to keep probing, but, as far as he could tell, Kris was a decent sort of guy. Whatever was bothering him would come to light sooner or later. It always worked that way.
"Your apartment was broken into," Mitch said. "He needs to interview you."
"My apartment?" Kris looked obviously curious. "I have an apartment?"
"You live in New York City," said Connel. "Everybody there has an apartment."
"And he didn't say I did anything ... wrong?"
"Are you SURE you don't want to talk to me about whatever it is that's eating at you?" asked Mitch. It wasn't his interrogator's voice he was using. It was just one man asking another man if he wanted to get something off his chest.
"It's complicated," said Kris. He thought about Lulu and how well things were going with her. "There are other people involved now. I don't want to mess things up."
"You mean Lulu?"
"How'd you know?" asked Kris.
"Jessica is about to bust at the seams with a secret she knows that Lulu won't let her talk about. It seemed to involve you. I see how you look at her and I see how she looks at you. I'm surprised the betting hasn't started yet."
"Betting?"
"On whether you'll come out of this with your whole skin or not. Nobody's ever seen Lulu interested in a man before. Not like you. Some people think she's a dyke. There've been bets made about that too."
"You're shitting me," said Kris. "Does she know?"
"She knows they all talk about her and she knows about some of the bets they make in the diner," said Mitch. "I don't think she knows about all the bets. If she did, there'd be a lot more spilled coffee around there than there has been. Lulu is not the most patient person in the world when it comes to someone impugning her reputation."
It was quiet for a few seconds.
"So, does this complexity you were talking about involve her?"
"Indirectly," said Kris. "I don't want to hurt her. I'm almost happy that I can't remember things. What if I started to remember things and it turned out I'm a bad person? That would fuck up everything."
"I don't think you're a bad person," said Mitch. "You might have made some kind of bad mistake, or gotten involved with the wrong people, maybe, but your personality isn't that of a predator."
"How do you know?" asked Kris.
"I told you I was going to keep an eye on you," said Mitch carelessly. "I have."
"So ... this guy from New York is coming here to talk to me."
"Yeah. He's going to interview you as a victim, as far as I know."
"OK, I'll be there. What time?"
"He should be here around noon."
"See you then," said Kris.
Kris didn't really know what to expect, so he tried not to think about it. When he saw the man waiting to talk to him, though, he felt his stomach begin to roil. The man smiled, though, and his face looked more open than Kris had expected a New York City detective to look. Mitch stood off to one side, arms folded. He had apparently either asked if he could watch or just assumed it would be all right.
Introductions were made and Harper waved at a chair, across a table from him in the office. There was a tape recorder on the table, too, and he said the interview would be recorded, if that was all right with Kris. Kris had no problem with it. Harper turned it on and, for the record, stated his name and Kris', the date and the location of the interview, followed by a swearing in routine before he started asking questions.
Kris felt lost immediately. The detective asked him all kinds of questions to which he had no answers. As it turned out, he only had one answer, and that one didn't seem to help that much.
Yes, he did have a girlfriend named Lola, but didn't know if her last name was Henderson or not.
"You don't seem to remember much," commented Harper, who was already frustrated.
"I was in an accident," said Kris. "I lost almost all of my memory. The only reason I know my name is Kristoff Farmingham is because my picture is on the driver's license Officer Connel returned to me."
"Did you tell Lola Henderson she could break into your apartment if she needed to?" Jim waited.
"I don't think so," said Kris.
"Don't think so?"
"The few memories I have of her suggest I don't actually like her very much," said Kris, feeling like he was kicking a dog. "I can't imagine I'd tell ANYBODY they could break into my apartment. If I'd wanted her in there, don't you think I would have just given her a key?"
"I don't know, Mister Farmingham," said the detective. "I just know she was found in your apartment, having gained entrance through a window, which she broke, and that she claims she had your permission to be there."
"I'm sorry I can't be of much help," said Kris.
Harper said the interview was at an end, stated the time and date, and turned the recorder off. He looked at Mitch, who shrugged his shoulders.
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