Not Much Ambiguity
A blackmailer is the one with the most to lose, not the other person.
Mama said that to me once, a long time ago and the brief flash of memory nearly made me cry.
The rain had settled into a thin drizzle when the loud sirens announced two patrol cars whose tyres screeched as they swung into my driveway.
I hugged my elbows and watched in a daze as the rain washed most of the blood into the gutter. The neighbours gathered in clusters across the street, whispering to each other while looking at me.
I must have looked a sight—my wet brown hair plastered to my face and neck, my dressing robe torn at the sleeve and hanging loose at one shoulder.
“Ma’am, did you see who did this?” the investigating officer whose name I can't remember asked, his gaze fixed on me.
Marcus lay face down beside my roses, a side of his head bashed in, his neck twisted in a sickening angle and his fingers curled like claws.
Just then a sleek black SUV drove in and Richard stepped out, and strode toward me. He was calm, unbothered as always. “Officer, I'm her husband. What's going on?”
His voice, smooth and authoritative, drew the officer's attention away from me. “Mr Elton, I was just taking Mrs Elton's statement—”
“I saw everything,” I muttered before either of them spoke again. Their gaze fell on me but the flowing mix of rain and blood was more fascinating.
“Ma'am, everything?”
Now I looked at the officer. He seemed intelligent enough, surely he must have heard me the first time. “There’s not much ambiguity about what happened.”
Marcus met me at a bar one night, in a weak moment. Richard and I had a quarrel and I got out of the house. He seemed harmless, a stranger, so I told him things about my marriage and a little of my buried past.
I returned home and Richard apologised. All was well again until the phone calls started.
Marcus dug into my past and threatened to expose a sealed record unless I gave him money. That would have destroyed Richard's position on the board of his company. I paid once but he returned again.
Then I remembered my mama's words and did not pay again. Marcus did not expose the record. He came to the house instead, bypassed security and found me in my bedroom.
There was no fear or panic. I'd never been stronger that night when I pushed him off the balcony.
“Officer, he fell off the balcony. Look up there,” Richard cut in sharply, irritated, pointing to the damaged railing outside our bedroom where forensics were already taking pictures.
“Sir, I need this from your wife directly.”
“She's been through a lot and stressed. For the record, I filed a police report this week about a man stalking us. Refer to that,” Richard said, holding my hand and guiding me back into the house. I hid my shock well until we were far away from the police.
“You knew?” I asked quietly.
“I don't know the whole story but I'm aware he was digging into your past. He tripped a few digital alarms I placed on your sealed record. Also, he has done this to some women but never been arrested. So I filed the report as a precaution. Didn't expect this to happen so soon.”
I stared at my husband and whispered, “But I….I pushed him.”
Richard placed his finger to my lips, silencing me.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "not much ambiguity".
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