Read Online An Indecent Death by David Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: David Anderson
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heard his answer.
“I said ‘no’!” His voice was loud. “And I know how it looks!”
Drumm contemplated his suspect. “Have you got a temper problem, Mr. Noonan?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Noonan demanded.
“Detective Wesson?”
Karl read from his notebook. “Nine years ago, assault and battery. Man named Eric Pittman. You broke his nose and two ribs. Beat the shit out of him actually. You did six months for it.”
Noonan flushed. “Bastard deserved it. He was drunk and looking for a fight. He got one. That was nine years ago! I did my six months and I’ve done nothing since!”
Drumm continued. “I repeat, do you have a temper problem, Mr. Noonan? Anger management issues?”
“I do not have anger management issues!”
“Detective Wesson?”
Noonan’s head swiveled to look at the other detective as Karl once again read out from his notes. “A year and a half ago, in November, Sarah Noonan called 9-1-1 and said her husband was assaulting her.” Karl looked at him. “That would be you, Mr. Noonan. She had bruises on her arm. You were drunk.”
Noonan started to speak.
Karl interrupted him. “And three months after that, your wife called 9-1-1 again. That time she said you had hit her in the face and thrown her around.”
Noonan looked down at the table, then up at Wesson and Drumm. They were staring at him unwaveringly. “I’m not proud of what I did, okay? I was drinking too much and she pissed me off something fierce. So, yes, I hit her and I grabbed her and I may have pushed her too. I can’t remember too much about it now.”
Drumm asked, “And what did she do that got you ‘pissed off something fierce’?”
“She wouldn’t let me touch her! She’s so effing hot and she wouldn’t let me near her! A man’s gotta right to enjoy his own wife, doesn’t he?”
Karl said, “Not by assaulting her. No, he doesn’t.”
“She never filed charges! We got over it and moved on. We loved each other.”
“Until she left you, isn’t that right, Noonan? Until you hit her again and she finally had the sense to get out before you killed her.” Drumm was speaking in a tight, controlled voice. In fact, he was angry. Creeps like Terry Noonan who beat up their wives offended him. He’d met too many of them.
Noonan said, “So that’s what you think? You think I killed her? Am I under arrest? If not, I’m getting out of here. I’ve had enough of this!”
“Just a few more questions, Mr. Noonan, if you please,” said Karl.
“No! No more questions. Either charge me or let me leave!” Neither detective said anything. “That’s what I thought.” And Terry Noonan stood up, pushed his chair back and angrily left the interview room.
Drumm looked at Karl. He sighed. “That went well, didn’t it? It’s always nice to spar with a wife-beater.”
seven
Lori Singh and Lynnette Cranston sat in the latter’s kitchen, discreetly sizing each other up. Lori saw a pleasant-looking woman with a ready smile, but someone who looked a little rough around the edges. She noticed little things like untidy hair and a baggy sweatshirt, and an absence of make-up. Lynnette wore jeans and pink socks inside fluffy slippers. She was a fairly short woman, maybe five feet five, and she would look a lot better if she lost ten or fifteen pounds. Lynnette’s brown hair was swept back into a ponytail, held together with a pink scrunchie. Just now she was moving around the kitchen making tea for the two of them.
“How long did you know Sarah, Ms Cranston?”
“Please, call me Lynn, everyone does. Um, are you allowed to do that?”
“Sure.”
“Good. Well, we’ve worked together for three years now. We’re both – we were both –teaching seventh grade. Sorry, I can’t get used to it.” She sniffed a bit into a tissue. “We did a lot of planning cooperatively, and some team-teaching too. We’d combine the two classes sometimes and do a lesson together. We were doing more and
“I said ‘no’!” His voice was loud. “And I know how it looks!”
Drumm contemplated his suspect. “Have you got a temper problem, Mr. Noonan?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Noonan demanded.
“Detective Wesson?”
Karl read from his notebook. “Nine years ago, assault and battery. Man named Eric Pittman. You broke his nose and two ribs. Beat the shit out of him actually. You did six months for it.”
Noonan flushed. “Bastard deserved it. He was drunk and looking for a fight. He got one. That was nine years ago! I did my six months and I’ve done nothing since!”
Drumm continued. “I repeat, do you have a temper problem, Mr. Noonan? Anger management issues?”
“I do not have anger management issues!”
“Detective Wesson?”
Noonan’s head swiveled to look at the other detective as Karl once again read out from his notes. “A year and a half ago, in November, Sarah Noonan called 9-1-1 and said her husband was assaulting her.” Karl looked at him. “That would be you, Mr. Noonan. She had bruises on her arm. You were drunk.”
Noonan started to speak.
Karl interrupted him. “And three months after that, your wife called 9-1-1 again. That time she said you had hit her in the face and thrown her around.”
Noonan looked down at the table, then up at Wesson and Drumm. They were staring at him unwaveringly. “I’m not proud of what I did, okay? I was drinking too much and she pissed me off something fierce. So, yes, I hit her and I grabbed her and I may have pushed her too. I can’t remember too much about it now.”
Drumm asked, “And what did she do that got you ‘pissed off something fierce’?”
“She wouldn’t let me touch her! She’s so effing hot and she wouldn’t let me near her! A man’s gotta right to enjoy his own wife, doesn’t he?”
Karl said, “Not by assaulting her. No, he doesn’t.”
“She never filed charges! We got over it and moved on. We loved each other.”
“Until she left you, isn’t that right, Noonan? Until you hit her again and she finally had the sense to get out before you killed her.” Drumm was speaking in a tight, controlled voice. In fact, he was angry. Creeps like Terry Noonan who beat up their wives offended him. He’d met too many of them.
Noonan said, “So that’s what you think? You think I killed her? Am I under arrest? If not, I’m getting out of here. I’ve had enough of this!”
“Just a few more questions, Mr. Noonan, if you please,” said Karl.
“No! No more questions. Either charge me or let me leave!” Neither detective said anything. “That’s what I thought.” And Terry Noonan stood up, pushed his chair back and angrily left the interview room.
Drumm looked at Karl. He sighed. “That went well, didn’t it? It’s always nice to spar with a wife-beater.”
seven
Lori Singh and Lynnette Cranston sat in the latter’s kitchen, discreetly sizing each other up. Lori saw a pleasant-looking woman with a ready smile, but someone who looked a little rough around the edges. She noticed little things like untidy hair and a baggy sweatshirt, and an absence of make-up. Lynnette wore jeans and pink socks inside fluffy slippers. She was a fairly short woman, maybe five feet five, and she would look a lot better if she lost ten or fifteen pounds. Lynnette’s brown hair was swept back into a ponytail, held together with a pink scrunchie. Just now she was moving around the kitchen making tea for the two of them.
“How long did you know Sarah, Ms Cranston?”
“Please, call me Lynn, everyone does. Um, are you allowed to do that?”
“Sure.”
“Good. Well, we’ve worked together for three years now. We’re both – we were both –teaching seventh grade. Sorry, I can’t get used to it.” She sniffed a bit into a tissue. “We did a lot of planning cooperatively, and some team-teaching too. We’d combine the two classes sometimes and do a lesson together. We were doing more and
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