me with what I suspected was a smile on the edge of his lips. He looked like he was in his early forties. Crow’s-feet radiated from his eyes, and deep lines around his mouth gave him a permanent frown. Mulberry took up most of the other side of the desk. He wasn’t fat but wide. The guy looked like he was made of boulders.
“If you don’t stop calling me Missy, I’m going to—” I could feel my face flushing red.
“You won’t do anything. All you will do is answer my questions.” I had been sitting across from this machine of a man for over an hour already, answering the same questions. His voice remained even. His green eyes held onto me. I was pretty sure he hadn’t blinked since my arrival. I pushed my thumbnail into my palm, trying to calm down. “You said that you met Mrs. Saperstein for the first time yesterday, and yet you are her dog-walker. How is this possible?”
“I told you already. I just started this job. I got it from a woman named Charlene Miller. Mrs. Saperstein is the only client I’ve met. I walk people’s dogs because they are at work. Hence, them not being home and me not meeting them.” I rolled my eyes and threw my hands in the air to point out how obvious an observation this really was.
“Tell me again about this Charlene.” The Detective looked down at a piece of paper in the center of his crowded desk.
“She was a friend of my friend Nona’s friend, whose information I’ve given you. Charlene left town on business. I already gave you her address. What more do you want?”
“Mrs. Saperstein was distressed when you saw her, correct?” He didn’t take his eyes off the paper under his face.
“Distressed and drunk,” I told the top of his head, then stuck my tongue out at it.
“Did she mention her affair?” Mulberry made a quick mark with his pen and then looked up at me. I sucked my tongue back just in time.
“Yes. I already told you this.”
“And do you know who she was having the affair with?”
“Yes.”
“And could you tell me his name, please?”
“I already told you.”
“Yes, and I want you to tell me again.” No anger, just fact.
“Julen.”
“And his occupation?”
“He is the doorman at her building.” I felt like I might start crying.
“You know Mr. Saperstein was having an affair, too.”
“Yes.”
“And how did you come to know this?”
“Mrs. Saperstein told me.” I shifted in my chair. It was old, wooden, and creaked with my movement.
“Why would she tell you that if you just met her?”
“I already told you she was drunk.”
“Do you know the name of the woman that Mr. Saperstein was seeing?”
“No.”
“Don’t you find it strange that she would mention her own lover’s name and not her husband’s?” the Detective looked back down at the paper.
“I already told you she was wasted. She probably doesn’t even remember our conversation.”
“I guarantee you she does.” He shuffled the paper around a little, then pulled out a pencil and erased something. I sighed loudly. Mulberry stopped erasing and asked:
“How long have you had this job?”
“Three days.”
“An exciting three days.” I wanted to hit him.
“That’s not how I would describe them.” He looked up at me, his face blank, and his eyes empty.
“Do you like excitement?”
“What?”
“Did you know Charlene Miller socially or professionally?”
“Seriously, I meet her 15 minutes before I took over the dog route. I would hardly recognize her on the street.”
“She was a beautiful woman. Recognizable for sure.”
“Oh yeah, did you know her?”
He sat back and cocked his head. “How long had you known Mr. Saperstein?” he asked.
“I told you I never met him.”
“Yes, and I don’t believe you.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“Did it occur to you that if you are mixed up in this, you could be next?”
“Whoa, what the fuck are you talking about?” I jumped out of my chair and backed up toward the wall. “I'm
“If you don’t stop calling me Missy, I’m going to—” I could feel my face flushing red.
“You won’t do anything. All you will do is answer my questions.” I had been sitting across from this machine of a man for over an hour already, answering the same questions. His voice remained even. His green eyes held onto me. I was pretty sure he hadn’t blinked since my arrival. I pushed my thumbnail into my palm, trying to calm down. “You said that you met Mrs. Saperstein for the first time yesterday, and yet you are her dog-walker. How is this possible?”
“I told you already. I just started this job. I got it from a woman named Charlene Miller. Mrs. Saperstein is the only client I’ve met. I walk people’s dogs because they are at work. Hence, them not being home and me not meeting them.” I rolled my eyes and threw my hands in the air to point out how obvious an observation this really was.
“Tell me again about this Charlene.” The Detective looked down at a piece of paper in the center of his crowded desk.
“She was a friend of my friend Nona’s friend, whose information I’ve given you. Charlene left town on business. I already gave you her address. What more do you want?”
“Mrs. Saperstein was distressed when you saw her, correct?” He didn’t take his eyes off the paper under his face.
“Distressed and drunk,” I told the top of his head, then stuck my tongue out at it.
“Did she mention her affair?” Mulberry made a quick mark with his pen and then looked up at me. I sucked my tongue back just in time.
“Yes. I already told you this.”
“And do you know who she was having the affair with?”
“Yes.”
“And could you tell me his name, please?”
“I already told you.”
“Yes, and I want you to tell me again.” No anger, just fact.
“Julen.”
“And his occupation?”
“He is the doorman at her building.” I felt like I might start crying.
“You know Mr. Saperstein was having an affair, too.”
“Yes.”
“And how did you come to know this?”
“Mrs. Saperstein told me.” I shifted in my chair. It was old, wooden, and creaked with my movement.
“Why would she tell you that if you just met her?”
“I already told you she was drunk.”
“Do you know the name of the woman that Mr. Saperstein was seeing?”
“No.”
“Don’t you find it strange that she would mention her own lover’s name and not her husband’s?” the Detective looked back down at the paper.
“I already told you she was wasted. She probably doesn’t even remember our conversation.”
“I guarantee you she does.” He shuffled the paper around a little, then pulled out a pencil and erased something. I sighed loudly. Mulberry stopped erasing and asked:
“How long have you had this job?”
“Three days.”
“An exciting three days.” I wanted to hit him.
“That’s not how I would describe them.” He looked up at me, his face blank, and his eyes empty.
“Do you like excitement?”
“What?”
“Did you know Charlene Miller socially or professionally?”
“Seriously, I meet her 15 minutes before I took over the dog route. I would hardly recognize her on the street.”
“She was a beautiful woman. Recognizable for sure.”
“Oh yeah, did you know her?”
He sat back and cocked his head. “How long had you known Mr. Saperstein?” he asked.
“I told you I never met him.”
“Yes, and I don’t believe you.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
“Did it occur to you that if you are mixed up in this, you could be next?”
“Whoa, what the fuck are you talking about?” I jumped out of my chair and backed up toward the wall. “I'm
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