Tim Wallace entered the
room. It had a beige motif which included a beige chair, beige
wall paper, a brown table and a beige sofa. On the sofa sat, a
slender woman with a green t-shirt and blue jeans. Her blonde
hair was almost limp and her blue eyes were almost dull to a point
that they looked cobalt. She exhaled the smoke from a lit cigarette
that almost dangled in her hand.
evening, Ms. Edwards. Are you ready? The woman shook her
head as she extinguished her cigarette. Tim placed a black tape
recorder. The recorder clicked as he pressed a button.
June 15, 2004. Interview with Ms. Christine Edwards. Tim
nodded toward Christine to begin talking.
name is Christine Harrison Edwards. I give Timothy Wallace permission
to tell my story to the world. She looked toward the black
and white clock that hung on the wall.
day was July 13, 1998. I lived with my aunt, Mrs. Tina Thompson,
at 435 Hopkins Road. I was 18 years old. Sam Edwards and I were
involved for two years
Christine Harrison stood
on the front porch of her aunts cerulean one story house.
Her blonde hair hung off her shoulder in a low ponytail. Sam Edwards,
her boyfriend, stood in front of her, holding her slender hands.
Come in here now! a voice shouted from house.
shouldnt treat you like that, Sam said as he looked
into Christines shimmering blue eyes.
is my aunt, Sammy.
know what mean.
have lived here for six years now. I think I can handle it.
just worried about you.
worry. Ill see you later. The two kissed quickly.
Sam walked toward his gray Monte Carlo. Christine walked quickly
inside and straight into the foam green Formica kitchen. There
standing by the counter was an older woman. Her brown hair was
limp and beginning to gray. Wrinkles began to form on her face
but she still looked young. She wore an oversize pull over and
did I tell you? she said after a puff of a lit cigarette.
was coming back to do the dishes, Christine said starting
the water and pouring dish washing soap into the porcelain sink.
I tell you something, you do it immediately. Not when you damn
feel like it! the older woman said, extinguishing her cigarette.
I also told you to cut these tomatoes.
you want me to do them now?
I want you to do them now, she said mockingly. Christine
dried her hands and picked up a large steel knife and began to
slice the delicate tomatoes.
better get your mind out of all of this romance crap and on to
your housework. This place is a dump and it smells like a pig
sty. I dont know how you use to live but in this house,
I live clean. Christine continued to cut the ripe tomatoes
as anger grew inside of her. Just stay calm. Just stay calm.
how you cut them damn tomatoes. You dont know how to do
nothing, do you? I have to
. Christine couldnt
stay calm any longer. She lifted the steel utensil into the air
and with a swish of air, plunged it into the chest of her aunt.
She quickly pulled it out, with rage in her eyes. Her aunt fell
to the floor with a thud. Christine began to breathe heavily until
she realized what she had done. She released the knife from her
grip and let it fall to the floor with a clang.
I forgot to tell you
Sam walked in to find the horrid
scene as blood pooled on the floor. Christine looked up to see
a puzzled look upon his face.
didnt mean to do it, she said. Sam crossed over the
corpse, trying his best not to step in the blood.
okay. Its okay. Lets think. Tell me, where do you
keep the towels and do you have any gloves? Christine pointed
to a drawer near the sink.
are you about to do? Christine said, covering her mouth
in horror. Sam removed yellow washing gloves and slipped them
on. He then removed a towel and began to wipe the handle of the
she left or right handed?
Christine said, removing her hand.
Sam placed the knife in Tinas left hand with the blade parallel
with her legs.
squeezed her fingers around the handle and release.
did you do that?
it looks like a suicide, he said, removing the gloves and
holding them tight in his hand with the towel.
on. The two of them hurried outside to Sams car. They
drove off to Sams apartment to wait to hear from the police.
Christine sat in the cold
metal chair in the dark, gray room. Across a stainless steel table
sat two men. A tall but portly man stood in the corner in a light
blue button down shirt with navy blue slacks. The second man was
a thin, agitated man in a lavender shirt and mauve slacks. He
sat in a similar chair with folders scattered over the table.
evening, Miss Harrison. I am sorry that we have to call you hear
on such a terrible occasion. You do know why you are here?"
sir. It is just a terrible thing. Do you know how she died?"
That is what the forensics found so far," the portly man
said still standing in the dark corner.
But why.... She would never have committed suicide. She loved
life. She was a wonderful person, you know. She took me in when
my mother was sent to the insane asylum. She was my only family."
is why we wanted to talk to you. Did you see any signs of depression
in her? Did she take anti-depressants at all?"
not that I know of. She was always busy. She always said if work
isn't done right, she will have to do it herself." Christine
looked into the skinny man's brown dewy eyes.
thank you. Is there any other information you will like to tell
I just want her to rest in peace." Christine stood and proceeded
to walk back to the lobby where Sam sat waiting.
isn't it?" the thin man, whose name was Detective Brown,
said, standing and walking to the open doorway to watch the couple
if you like bedtime stories."
he said, turning to his partner, Detective Moreau, as he walked
up beside him.
it funny how she talked about her aunt in past tense? It is well
known that the close members of a suicide victim talk about them
in present tense."
it really matter?"
she wasn't very hurt by the news of a suicide."
are you saying? She killed her? What about the evidence?"
far, it is a suicide. We have to wait."
Three weeks passed since
Christine's aunt's funeral. She was back at work a week after
stood in the kitchen of the Katmandu Rest Home in her white and
navy blue golf shirt and blue shorts, the uniform, pouring water
into a cup of tea leaves.
I'm going to see what Dana wanted. This is the tea for room 425,"
Christine yelled to a stout woman in all white in a connected
room. The woman nodded as she continued to stir the pot. Christine
walked out of the low building to a courtyard with a pool and
afternoon, ladies," she said as she walked past two elderly
women in tropical color smocks. She then spotted a girl with the
same frame of body as her with brown mousy hair.
Hey, what did you want?" she said running up to the girl.
didn't want anything."
Tanya told me you want me to do something."
that was earlier. I did it already." Soon a plump girl with
a single ponytail quickly walked by the two.
that for room 425? I finished making that like three minutes ago."
was busy," the girl said, looking back as she kept going
rookies are something else. Look, Im going to the café
for lunch. Want anything?
I have to go make some rounds.
Christine went back to the kitchen and grabbed her bag and hurried
across the street to a small café.
found herself once again in the same small dark room with the
two detectives who now have on different but the same style clothing.
Harrison, how are you doing today? asked Detective Brown.
am fine. Why am I back here? Is there something new with my aunts
Miss Harrison. You see there was a murder at the Katmandu Rest
Home, where you work, Detective Moreau said, sitting next
to Detective Brown.
were wondering if you knew a Mrs. Emily Whitman.
resided in room 425 of the rest home.
room 425! You see we on the staff dont call the residences
by their name because there are too many. So we call them by their
Well, it seems that she died from the ingestion of oleandrin and
nerioside with an herbal tea.
had her afternoon tea. What is oleandrin and nerioside?
toxin from the oleander plant, Detective Brown said, showing
the crime scene photo of the tea cup and of a white oleander.
you know who fixed the tea?
did but, you dont think I killed her? I didnt even
I think you did know her. You see, Mrs. Whitman was Sam Edwardss
his grandmother died.
his fathers side, yes. This is his mothers mother.
still doesnt explain why I would kill her.
see, Sam was to inherit 300 thousand dollars when he reached twenty-five,
and if she died before then, he would get a third of it, 100 thousand.
He told you this, and he wanted a way to get rid of her. So he
supplied the poison, and you supplied a way to get it to her.
There was silence.
have no idea what you are talking about, Christine said
as she thought about the day before when Sam handed her a small
vial of chopped green leaves and she placed her into the tea cup.
said you made the tea.
but I was not always around it. Cook boiled the water for it.
I came in and poured the water over the tea leaves.
put in the tea leaves?
dont know. I was busy before I poured the water. I then
told Cook I was going to see my supervisor, Dana. Then a rookie
to the place took the tea to room 425, she explained.
will check it out.
May I leave? Detective Moreau waved her out.
is just something not right, he said.
do you think?
dont know. Until we get more evidence. I have no clue.
at the one bedroom apartment, curled up on the overstuffed couch
that made for her bed at night. Sam walked in carrying an envelope.
here, he said, plodding down beside her.
know we cant spend it yet, she said, staring at the
the cops see we spend the money, they get suspicious. I think
one cop is already.
what are we to do?
and see, she said. Just wait and see.
Christine was leaving the
apartment when the phone rang.
Harrison, this is Detective Brown from the police station.
I didnt do anything wrong.
just want to ask you a few questions.
Im bringing my lawyer, she said, hanging up the phone.
She then began to dial her lawyer.
At the precinct, Christine
became very familiar with the room where she sat. Next to her
was a family friend, Gina Douglas, who was also the family lawyer.
Mrs. Douglas wore a black dress suit that matched her black hair
to her ebony skin.
afternoon, Miss Harrison, Mrs. Douglas. We just have a few questions,
Detective Brown said. This time, he was alone yet not alone. The
room where they were had a one-way mirror. Behind the mirrors
façade stood Detective Moreau.
Harrison, it has come to our attention that Mr. Edwards has received
his check from his grandmothers will. It also seems that
only half has been placed in an account. Mrs. Whitmans will
specifically says that 25 thousand dollars be used on her funeral
and only Mr. Edwards inherited the money.
is true. 25 thousand dollars is being given for the funeral.
happened to the rest? Any extravagant spending?
sir, as a matter of fact, 25 thousand was sent to his mother.
mother? Is she living with his father? Why did she not inherit
any of Mrs. Whitman money? Did he give it to his father and mother?
she isnt with Sams dad. She left.
dont have to answer that, Christine, Mrs. Douglas
said as she wrote notes.
okay. He didnt give to his dad. Just his mom. She left when
he was young.
left because his dad beat her. He beat him, too. She couldnt
take it anymore, so she left. Leaving him to take it. Every now
and then, he sends her money to take care, but for some reason,
he cant leave.
Thank you. You may leave. Christine slipped on her glasses
and walked out with her lawyer close behind.
is said that those from a home of abuse will abuse, Christine
said, dragging on her second cigarette. She rolled up her sleeves
to show blue and purple bruise on her arm.
did those? Tim asked.
said he did it because he loved me. Piece of crap.
Sam walked up to the shabby
house carrying the heavy box containing many parts of an engine.
He knocked with his foot against the wooden door. An overweight
man opened the door with a snort. He wore a stained undershirt
and khaki pants. He moved to the side as Sam made his way inside
and set the box down.
are the parts you wanted, he said quietly.
you got some money, the man said in a gruff voice.
and I know grandma didnt want you to have any.
dont want none. I know you gave some to your mother.
gone, Sam said, walking to the door.
aint done talking to you, boy! the man said. Sam stopped
in his tracks.
you just like your mama. Cant do nothing for ya self.
Sam turned around with his mouth turned up.
given me the eye, boy? The man stepped to him. I should
knock you to next week, he said, holding up his hand.
it. The man slapped Sam across his face. Sam stood his ground.
He pulled out a handgun and pointed to the stout man.
a big man. You go shoot ya old man?
tired of you. Im leaving, Sam said as he turned.
aint goin nowhere. The man grabbed Sams
wrist. They struggled with the gun still in Sams hand. They
fought until a shot was fired. The man looked into Sams
frightened eyes. Sam stepped back slowly and stood. He stared
at the man, still hunched over, as a red spot began to form under
his shirt. The man fell to the hardwood floor with a thump. Sam
stared in disbelief as the man slowly died.
Christine walked into the
apartment to find Sam sitting on the couch holding a gun.
Whats wrong? she said, slowly walking toward him and
sitting down next him.
Go pack you things. He said looking at the gun. Christine
stood and hurried to the bedroom and packed. Once she was done,
she brought in her bags and saw that Sam was still looking at
the gun. Christine sat down next to him looking at the gun.
what happened? There was silence.
killed my father. Christine looked at his face and saw that
tears began to fill his eyes.
its going to be okay. He shook his head.
Not this time. They are coming to find me. They know you killed
your aunt, and they know we killed my grandmother. They are coming
to get us. He looked up into Christines blue eyes,
which now filled with tears.
will never find us. We will never tell. Will we? he asked
grabbing the sides of her face. Christine shook her head and grabbed
his hands, holding his hands onto her face.
I will never tell, she said.
on, he said, grabbing her hand and their bags and rushing
to the car.
Two police men kicked in
the door of the now-empty apartment. They entered with their guns
drawn and searched each room.
they yelled. Detective Brown and Detective Moreau walked in.
gone, Detective Brown said, placing his gun back into its
holster. Moreau walked to the coffee table
to find a picture. In the picture were Christine and Sam smiling
as Christine sat on Sams knee.
and Clyde, Moreau said. All he could do was scoff. He then
threw the picture across the room, smashing it against the wall.
to pour down onto the funeral. Detective Moreau stood near the
open hole as they lowered Frank Edwards's body into his grave.
Frank and Moreau were high school friends but lost touch as Moreau
graduated from police academy and Frank turned to a life of petty
small framed girl placed a small bouquet of flowers on the casket.
A black raincoat covered her as her hood was pulled over her head.
Moreau watched as she stood near the grave. She lifted her head
slowly and met eyes with the detective. A shocked and horrified
look came upon the detective's face. The girl then turned and
began to walk to a black car. Standing near the open passenger
door was a tall man with a black fedora on his head. The girl
slipped into the car as the man closed the door. He then walked
around to the driver side and got in. The two drove off out of
Christine smoked the last
bit of her cigarette before putting it out.
says here that it took the FBI five years to find you two,"
Tim said, shuffling through papers. Christine giggled.
the Most Wanted list for all five years. WE were famous,"
she said, smiling.
also says that Sam Edwards escaped from Angola prison two months
ago. Do you know his whereabouts?" Christine lit another
cigarette. She took a long drag from it and blew out the cigarette
smoke with a smile.
will never tell."