They could never measure what went on in her mind. The odd serenity that reflected beyond the blank countenance. There was no pleading, crying, screaming, confessing, not even a word. It was as though she was ready to take on the road to a mystical world beyond the known realms of life, without any hesitance. Her last meal was a glass of water and a single apple, left half-eaten in the cell. Surer than enough, she went empty stomached to death with arms wide open in its acceptance.
Hazel Zelensky walked in the empty hallway with two guards at her side. One of them was Warden Finley, lean, assured, eyes fixed on the culprit with an odd sort of fear, he was trying to smother. The other was the inspector, spending years on the case, which was far complex than most he had encountered in his life. It had appeared shallow at first but a deep dive into the details seemed to have left him boggled. And even though the criminal lay in front of him, it was far from solved.
They had concluded the mystery after a grueling year that was spent in solving it. He was still unhappy with the result but little would the officer complain. The sooner they were over it, the better. Of all the uncertainties and theories, one thing was as clear as it could be- the one with the death penalty on her head was guilty. If he had the slightest confusion about her innocence, the probe would have gone on forever but that wasn’t happening. In the trial, she had confessed her guilt, almost too willingly. On the first hearing itself, Hazel had given the unvarnished account of that day, which matched exactly with the details as if she was trying to get convicted. It all had sounded fishy at first but then, the location of the body and the murder weapon and even the minutest of the facts were put down by her. Now, if she was pleading to die, who was he to pull her back?
And yet, after everything, the head of police believed it to be unsolved. There was no way the night had gone down so simply. She hadn’t killed her sister in a fit of rage over the petty issue and hid the corpse. It was something planned well in advance and executed perfectly. How much ever he put his head into the case, there was no end to it. The links, the shady suspects, the initial investigation. Proofs were more than he could imagine Hazel would have left. If she was getting framed, why was she accepting it?
He just sighed.
The air was cold, even in the midst of summer but they were also sweating profoundly. He felt like the prison walls were screaming at him that this wasn’t justice. But she asked for it, Quinn wanted to yell back at them. His eyes shifted to the lady in handcuffs, as calm as still water but inside was a raging waterfall. She was no more than twenty-five or so, with short-cut black hair, a metal nose ring, right arm with more ink than skin, and a scar on her back. There was no better example of a stereotype criminal than her but those eyes, dark brown and devoid of warmth, still had a sense of being blameless. She stared into the other’s pupils every time she answered during the taxing interrogation, so confident as though, she felt no guilt of the crime… if she had done it.
