The Last Confession: Chapter Sixteen, “Are you Marcos Duendes?”

Detectives Johnson and Contreras asked the man who came into his wife’s parents’ living room after her father called him out of the bedroom in the back of the small house on First Avenue in the barrio where the man lived with his wife and three year old daughter and her father and mother, “Are you Marcos Duendes?”

“Yes. I am. What do you want?” Duendes responded to the two police detectives.

“May we speak with you in private?”

Marcos looked at his mother and father in law and at his wife and then asked them to excuse himself and the detectives who he then invited into the bedroom that he shared with his wife, Priscilla.

When they were in the bedroom, Detective Johnson notice the birth certificate for Dolores laying on top of the dresser with Dr. Ugliski’s name on it.

Det. Johnson began, “Do you know Doctor Ugliski?”

“Uh, yeah,” Duendes answered. “He delivered our daughter three years ago when I was away in the Army.”

Duendes looked right at Priscilla with a slight bit of rage in his eyes when he saw her there standing behind the two detectives after she had followed them and her husband back into their bedroom uninvited. Priscilla looked puzzled and scared and, even, slightly hopeful all at same time.

“Did you know he had been shot in the doorway of his house this morning?

“What?” Duendes asked with his best pretense at surprise and dismay.

Priscilla looked horrified.

“Yeah . . . and we just got an anonymous tip that you shot him.” Detective Contreras told Duendes.

“What! NO WAY! WHO SAID THAT?” Duendes demanded, this time with fear in his eyes.

“Could we go to the station house and talk about who you think would say such a terrible thing about you?” asked Detective Johnson.

“Of course! I want to clear this shit up as fast as possible.” Duendes choked.

“Good. We do too. That’s a terrible thing for someone to say and in such a cowardly way on our “Anonymous Witness” line. We hate when people do that to other people.” Detective Contreras lied very sincerely.

“You can ride with us in our car,” Detective Johnson offered. “Would your wife like to come too? Maybe she knows who would try to hurt you two like this with a false accusation.”

“Yes. Sure.” Duendes answered softly, answering for Priscilla and darting her a quick inquisitive glare at the same time. “We can have Priscilla’s parents watch our little girl.”

[DISCLAIMER: Remember how I told you? THIS is all made up. There’s nobody written about here who is either you or anyone you know. Keep moving, please.]

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