The Interrogations...

Of course, the police were very interested in talking to me. One member of the local police force had leaked to the newspapers that an arrest was imminent, and that they were looking very hard at a family member. I was furious, as well as mortified. I couldn't imagine anyone really believing I had actually stabbed my Mom to death. I was a "flower child", and I was totally non-violent. And I knew I hadn't done this thing...so I told the cops to go to hell. Then I was paid a visit by the local Chief of Police, who informed me that the officer in question had been suspended for what he did, and he apologized on behalf of the entire department. He told me that the sooner they were able to rule me out as a suspect, the sooner they could focus on finding who was really responsible for my Mom's murder. That made a lot of sense to me, and since I knew I hadn't done anything anyway, I agreed to meet with the police the next day. I never even thought about a lawyer...I thought I'd be done with it in an hour or two, and then the police could concentrate on finding the real killer. I also thought they would allow me the time and the luxury of grieving for my Mom. I couldn't have been more wrong about that. Every morning for the next two months, I would be picked up at my house by two State Police detectives. They would then take me to a small room in a barracks...a bare room except for a table, three chairs, and a tape recorder...and for the first week, for eight hours a day...all they did was make me tell them over and over and over again, what I had done and what I had seen from the 24 hours prior to the murder...right up to the moment when I called the police...and they had arrived...and asked about the knife. Here I am, trying to forget the most horrible thing I had ever seen, and these guys were doing everything in their power to burn it into my memory forever. They kept trying to get me to change my story...but it didn't change, because it was the only one I knew, and it was what I was sticking to. I had eleven people who had been with me the night my Mom was killed...(although the police have never released the actual time of death, they did tell me it had happened some time the night before, while I was at the club.) The police questioned all eleven people, and they all verified that I had been with them exactly as I said I had been. At first, the theory was that all eleven were lying to protect me, but as it became increasingly clear that theory was preposterous, they developed a "new" theory...and the new one was even more far-fetched...