The Amateur
On Monday, somewhat predictably, I got a call from detective Murphy.
"I hear you were asking about possible suspects?"
I explained I hadn't meant to bother him, that I had called the
police with the question, and they had transferred me to him.
"Mr. Bloch, we are conducting the investigation. Any questions
you have should come to me, and me alone. Several people we've
talked to say you approached them on your own. Mr. Bloch,
interfering with an investigation is a serious matter. Leave this
matter to us."
"Will you keep me informed?"
"That's not going to happen Mr. Bloch. You'll just have to be
patient."
The old me would have cowered and acquiesced. The old me would
have meekly apologized and hung up. But the old me would never
have been having this conversation in the first place.
"My wife was murdered, detective. We had our problems, but she
was my wife. For 22 years. You can investigate me all you like,
but from my point of view, any time you spend doing that is a
waste. Two people are dead. If my wife was involved somehow
with this other person, I have a right to know. I have a right
to find out what's going on."
"You don't have a right to compromise my witnesses. You don't
have a right to interfere with an investigation. I can get a
court order if I have to, Mr. Bloch, but I'll just say again,
anything that has to do with this case goes through me, do you
understand?"
"You want me to tell you what I find out?"
"We don't need your help, Mr. Bloch. Leave it alone."