Jack In The Box

Detective Alicia led me to a room that was now set up with a bunch of equipment and there were a lot of people in the room being questioned, others were going through files and papers, typing on their MacBooks. A young officer looked up from his laptop towards me and back at the screen.

“Please have a seat, Miss. Frazier.” Detective Alicia pointed at the chair as she settled in the chair across from it. She had a memo pad and a pen in her lap. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m good, Detective. Thanks for asking.”

“I have some questions so let’s get it over with.” She said. “How was David’s behavior usually?”

“He liked to pick fights with the other patients. Harassed most of the staff. Frankly speaking, I don’t think anyone here would miss him in the slightest.” There, I said the truth. Just because Dave was dead, didn’t mean we had to pity him. He got what he deserved.

Detective Alicia nodded, scribbling something in her notepad. “When he had a fight with Jackson Wolfe, you were a witness. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” I responded. “I saw how Dave mocked Jackson about his mother and that put him in a rage.”

I was momentarily disturbed by her scrawling so I stopped talking which is when she glanced up from her writing pad. “Go on please.”

“Jackson pummeled Dave to the floor and he was bleeding.” I said.

“And then?” She pressed.

“He was taken to the isolation room where he was kept for about four or five days while Dave was getting treated for the injuries.” I informed her. “I honestly think it wasn’t Jackson’s fault at that time. Dave liked to pick on Jackson every chance he got.”

“So you think killing Dave was a genius option?” She asked and I was caught off guard with that question.

“Of course not.” I said. “But is it really Jackson who is responsible for this?”

“We are not sure, but the investigation is going on. As soon as we have information, we will take him into custody.” She pushed a manila file towards me. “These are some of the murders that happened a year back and supposedly, Jackson is responsible for them although there’s no evidence. If it really is Jackson who committed those murders, he is clever enough not to leave any traces.”

I scanned the top of the file, flipped it open and I instantly wished I hadn’t. On the first page was a picture of a woman. Her arms weren’t in the right angle, but when I looked closely, her right hand was attached to the left arm and her left hand was attached to the right, sewed together. Her eyes sunken back into hollows. The eyeballs placed neatly in her outstretched palm. The body looked like a Barbie doll that was badly played with. Another picture showed a man crucified against the wall, his eyes as usual were the same; empty and hollow.

Alicia flipped more pages and pointed at another picture where the same woman was lying face down with bite marks over her back.

I shuddered. “Isn’t this confidential?”

Alicia waved her hand in dismissal. “This stuff is all over the news and the internet. It’s not confidential information anymore.”

“I see.”

“Since Jackson is under your care, I want you to check his behavior and inform us if he says something out of the ordinary. Any valuable information that may help us because we are pretty sure he is the one.”

The problem was Jackson was never normal.

Jackson was seated in a hospital room. A Blood pressure cuff was wrapped around his arm to record his pulse, along with rubber tubes places over his chest abdomen to check his breathing rate and finally, two metal plates attached to his fingers to check if was sweating due to nervousness. The wires were connected to the laptop which was attached to another rectangle box shaped device. I instantly knew it was a polygraph test. It was a device that instantly proved if the accused person was lying or telling the truth by checking their heart rate or pulse but Jackson seemed relaxed, like he wasn’t just going to answer a lie detecting test, but ready to watch a movie on his couch. I wondered how a person accused of such atrocious crimes could act so laid back.

Or maybe it wasn’t an act at all. Maybe Jackson wasn’t really scared.

His dark eyes flicked towards me and stayed there, his hair was brushed perfectly. A smug expression plastered over his face, a condescending look like he was the master of this game and we were his pawns. The overconfidence radiating through him as usual. My mind preoccupied by thoughts of Jackson murdering all those innocent people.

Everyone was present in the room, including Aaron and Paul who were closely assessing Jackson like he was a rare species from another planet. Paul, specifically was scowling at him and it proved how much he hated Jackson’s guts.

Polygraph test began, and a Polygraph examiner began asking him questions. “Is your name

responded and machine made a sound indicating that he was lying. “It is Michael

“You’re supposed

don’t ask me

Twenty-seven

“Yes.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No.”

you been diagnosed with Psychopathy due to the

trace of nervousness in

with David the night

“Yes.”

“Did you kill David?”

straight at Paul.

the laptop screen. That meant he wasn’t lying. Everyone in the room was confused including me. If Jackson did

you kill David?” Paul

“No.”

Green signal.

Wolfe, did

“I said NO!”

Red signal.

can ask me the same question thrice just

you kill Laura Wolfe

have to

your mother, yes

the signal was

He

say

what the results

examiner exchanged glances from Aaron to Jackson. “May I continue the

“Yes, you may.”

towards

examiner noticed this but his expressions

“No.”

Red.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Red.

pushing a different picture towards him,

of an open suitcase. The contents weren’t for someone with a faint heart. A heart placed nicely in the center of the suitcase, along with

lunged out of his chair and attacked Paul, “I will kill you, you sonofabitch!” His teeth barring out as he grabbed for Paul’s

Aaron

and screamed, his eyes met mine for just a split second before I injected the tranquiller into his vein. I had no idea how I’d done it, I’d never dealt with a more