Any investigator worth their salt knows the most likely culprit in any crime is someone close to the victim. A family member, a close friend. A spouse. I’ll cut to the chase, it’s usually the spouse.
This particular spouse had one helluva motive. A powerful man with gorgeous wife not paying any attention to him because she’s too busy banging the appliance. I’d scrap the damn thing too if I were him.
The tricky part to having this particular suspect is I have absolutely no access to him. Kinda hard questioning a man you have no shot at actually speaking to.
A bit of research showed that although the Kensingtons used the Robs for almost everything from cooking to cleaning to child rearing, the off brand search engine I used informed me that they had to hire an actual human security force. Of course that made sense, Robs were strictly programed so they can never cause physical harm to humans or other robots. No way around it. Humans however could gleefully beat back the unwashed masses with impunity.
I watched the compound for a few days, got to know the comings and goings. Noticed patterns, weak spots in security. There was a lot of turn over. My guess is old Ezra didn’t want any of the staff getting too familiar. There was a set shift change every day right at sundown. If I was going to get in that compound it was going to be then.
I meticulously planned my entrance, paid a hefty chunk of change to get a replica security guard uniform. Figured I could slip in during one of those shift changes. Easy, now I just needed to watch Ezra’s coming and goings, slip in on a night I knew he’d be home. Like taking candy from a rich baby, which I think is the right thing to do. Who gives candy to babies anyway? They could choke. People are dumb.
I had on my borrowed security guard uniform and I was about make my way out to their lake house when there was a knock at my door. Actually it was more like a furious pounding. There’s only one type of person that knocks like that; A cop. Probably looking for a payoff for something or other. Lucky for me Lady Kensington paid in advance. I could just swipe the card and be on my way.
I opened the door and found not one cop but what looked like a SWAT team, decked out in full riot gear. This could be more expensive than I thought.
“Hey fellas. They throw a douche convention in my hallway?”
I think I’m hilarious.
The first cop through the door slammed me face first into my desk while he simultaneously wrenched my arms behind my back. Tough room. I had to admire his multitasking though. Blood pooled on the desk in front of my face. Great. Nose broken again. At least my face had character. Wish it was a better one.
Cops filed in my cramped office and began unceremoniously dumping all my stuff, flipping my small cot in the back, cutting into the upholstery of my chairs. I recognized most of these guys from around town. You don’t get to be private investigator without running into your fair share of cops.
“Hey O’Doyle, Murphy, O’Brien, Irish Mike, Polish Mike…”
“Hi!” someone called from the back before being shushed.
“One of you guys wanna tell me what this is about?” I asked the best I could with my face being smashed into my desk. The pig that had me pinned down to the desk fumbled with something at his belt. To my relief he pulled out a folded piece of paper. I’m an open minded guy but this is neither the time nor the place.
“Shannon Jacobs…” He intoned.
“Call me Rex. It’s way tougher.”
“You are under arrest for the murder of Ezra Alistair Beauregard Kensington the third…”
“What?” I shouted.
He started to read my rights. One of the other guys thought it would be quicker to knock me out with his night stick. He was right.