Chapter Eight - Stale Night, Fresh Coffee The Police removed C.C. from the apartment. They had a long night of interrogation ahead of them and I was to meet them at the precinct first thing in the morning. Whether the police had feared for me or distrusted my involvement in the day’s murder, they had kept watch on my apartment. They saw C.C.’s shadowy figure enter from my balcony. He immediately became a suspect, and nothing I could share with them lessened their suspicions. I knew he could never have killed anyone, but tonight he was going to have to convince them of that. I was alone now and exhausted, but as I looked around at my usually comfortable, familiar surroundings, my apartment seemed a foreboding, dangerous place. The police believed they had a villain in custody. I knew better. Whatever villain was responsible for the murder in my apartment was still loose and perhaps very near. Somehow I’d make it through the rest of this night and find someplace safe to stay. I carefully checked all of my locks and curled up in my chair with a kitchen knife in hand to keep vigilant watch. As day broke, light poured in to my apartment. By then I had made myself a fresh cup of coffee and traded my knife in for a pen. The pen was actually far more helpful than the knife. The list of things I needed to do became as clear as the morning sky. C.C. had not intended to involve me; nonetheless, I was involved, deeply involved. Whether it was the coffee, the morning sun, or the high one gets from knowing that this day was not going to be a usual day, I was refreshed, even exhilarated. I knew my home would not be safe until CC. and his family was safe. I would need to take leave from work. C.C. needed to be bailed out. He and I would find a safe, comfortable place to sort through the problems facing us. Hopefully Detective Pearson would become an ally and not a hindrance. I dressed quickly and headed downtown.