Chapter 61 Chapter 61 Police Arrived
Gabriel’s POV
I scattered everything on the table. I yelled at the wall, kicked it as if it were a person.
“Fuck you, Luke!” I screamed, as if he could hear me loud and clear—or better to say, live and direct.
His game was obvious to me now. He was willing to do the dirty job for me not because he was not new to something like this but because he saw an opportunity to keep blackmailing me for as long as he needed money!
Wasn’t it just yesterday he came to me finalizing this job? Just yesterday I paid him his balance—a whopping $30,000! Where the fuck did it go?
What the fuck did he buy with it that he needed more money between yesterday and this morning? Just this morning?
My entire body was laced with beads of sweat, like morning dew clinging to blades of grass after a humid summer night.
I clutched my phone in my hand like a lifesaver. If I was told that Luke would eventually decide to be a thorn in my flesh after this, I'd argue it.
Immediately, I called him again. I was breathing fast, my heart racing as I paced around the living room, quickly dialing his number.
“The number you are trying to reach is not reachable. Please try again later. Thank you,” the robotic voice answered before the call dropped.
“He has fucking switched off his phone,” I muttered loudly, knowing that was the only logical reason his line wasn’t connecting. Wasn’t he the one who called me just a few seconds ago?
My blood was boiling when I suddenly heard a knock on the door.
I froze immediately. “Who could it be?” I murmured.
I darted to the window and slightly pulled the curtains to the side. Dread lodged in my throat when I saw a policeman standing right at my door.
My eyes widened as if I had no control over them. My chest heaved in maximum fright. The police were at the door.
A number of thoughts rumbled in my mind about how to escape. But with each one, I found a flaw that would lead to me being apprehended.
My heart still racing, I pulled the curtain slightly again and surveyed the environment.
“There’s no police backup, just a police car. That means...”
"Knock. Knock!" The knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
“This is Officer Kingsley, Mr. Moretti. Open the door now!” His voice was filled with authority, as if he knew I was home and that if I tried anything funny, I’d regret it.
“I know you’re home. I watched you let in the journalist. Now, open up this fucking door!”
Hearing the officer, my heart raced even more. There was no hiding now. Reluctantly, I opened the door.
He stepped in like he owned the place. He didn’t say anything at first but kept looking around as if searching for clues.
My heart pounded, but I summoned the courage to ask, “Is there a problem, officer?”
He turned to look at me, hearing my words. “Yes,” he answered bluntly, as if he knew something. He proceeded into the living room, shaking his head at the mess.
“You know, there was something that didn’t add up about the hotel thingy,” he chuckled, his tone suggesting he definitely knew something.
"Why would a total stranger, someone who was obviously having a nice time in a lounge, want to be with your wife? someone everyone knows was married to you?" He chuckled the second time.
Then a whirlwind of thoughts rumbled in my mind. If he knew something and came to my place alone, it meant he was only investigating further. If not, he’d have shown me a warrant and arrested me on the spot.
“I just need to maintain my act,” I thought to myself.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, officer,” I said firmly.
“My wife just died, and you’re in my home, telling me this? Have you no empathy?”
“Empathy?” he chuckled darkly.
He turned to me, sitting down on a chair in my living room. “I’ll tell you what,” he began, then continued, “I know what you did. I know you’re behind your wife’s murder and the others before her.”
“I know you hired a certain Luke. I looked him up, and trust me, his past is as dirty as the evil inside your mind,” he said. Then, to back up his claims, he pulled out his cellphone and played a video.
I immediately grabbed the phone from the table where he tossed it and watched the video.
I saw Luke clearly in it. I saw him arriving at my doorstep, our sidetalks, and then Emmanuella coming downstairs before he drove her away.
It was incriminating. I was doomed.
I wanted to run, to escape, but something seemed off. If he had all this evidence, why didn’t he have a warrant? Why wasn’t I arrested already?
“What do you want?” I asked boldly, though my breath caught in my chest.
“You see, Mr. Moretti, you’re smart,” he smiled. Then, gesturing for me to sit, he tapped his palm on the chair.
“You’re very rich today not just because of luck or hard work, but because you’re a smart motherfucker,” he said, chuckling visibly now.
I sat down, fixing my gaze on him, unimpressed by his words.
“I’ll be straight with you, Mr. Moretti,” he said again.
“Those videos? There are more of them. Footage showing your hired thug visiting Roy and Cassandra. You know how much these murders connect to each other.”
“There are many copies of these videos. All kept in check, in case you won’t cooperate. So, I’ll ask: are you going to cooperate and make us both happy?” He smiled venomously.
“Yes,” I replied, my gaze on him, my tone sober.
“I want money. $80,000 to keep my mouth shut and destroy the evidence,” the officer declared.
My eyes widened. “What?” I exclaimed.
“Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?” I blurted out, knowing my account was draining fast, and no money was coming in.