The Real Story
One man framed for a murder he didn’t commit. Another knew the truth but refused to come clean.
There had been many theories about why she had been murdered.
All of them were wrong. Only Malcolm, her agent, knew the real story and he wasn’t talking. At least not to just anyone.
His shrink knew the story.
“Malcolm, I thought we had everything out in the open, but there seems to be this overriding issue of guilt that I can’t seem to place my finger on. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Malcolm’s analyst shifted patiently in his chair waiting for a reply.
“Yes, yes there is,” Malcolm replied nervously. “Are you sure we have complete doctor patient confidentiality?”
“Of course we do. Nothing leaves this office. Now tell me what I don’t already know.”
Malcolm got up from the couch. “I can’t lay down right now.” He fumbled for a cigarette, lit it, took a deep drag and began.
“Do you recall the sensation about Gretta Levine’s murder? It was in all the papers.”
“Of course. Seems they found their man but he never confessed. Claimed he was innocent. He died of a massive stroke. Isn’t that right?”
“Part right. He did die of a stroke, but he wasn’t the murderer. I know who is and I know why it happened. That’s what has me in knots. I don’t know what to do with this information.”
“Why don’t you take it to the police?”
“I can’t do that. I’m responsible for this persons safety. If he goes to prison he’ll die there.”
“Well than tell me this. Why did this person do it? We’ll start there and see what develops. Is that OK?”
“OK, I’ll tell you that much. Gretta was at the peak of her acting career. I being her agent had nurtured her to this point. She was having a hard time handling the fame. Too many people trying to pull her in too many directions, plus the Paparazzi were relentless. She couldn’t take it. She wanted out. I tried to talk some sense into her, but she kept babbling on about disappearing somewhere in Idaho. Said she wanted to find her center, whatever the hell that means. She wanted to work on her art. Did you know she was one hell of a painter?”
“No, Malcolm, I didn’t.”
“Well she was. But there’s no money in that. People were depending on her. She couldn’t just walk away. She was under contract.”
“So you’re telling me she was killed because she wanted out of the business. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. Those who depended on her still lost out.”
“It wasn’t intentional. It was an accident. The person responsible framed the guy who was arrested. Why do you think he fought the charges so hard?”
“I see, so now that we’ve determined the why, maybe you’ll consider telling me who did it?” questioned the analyst.
Malcolm considered his reply. “I did.”
© Copyright 2018 by Scott A. Gese All Rights Reserved.