Page 33 of Nothing Left

Fernando was still screaming at the top of his voice, even now that he was subdued and the cuffs were on. He was still struggling at a level where Wyatt had to force him into the corner of the room and hold him there.

"Get out of my house! You have no right to be here!" Fernando shouted, his eyes wild and his face red with anger. “This is my viewing room! I never allowed you in! My photos here are private!”

Juliette and Wyatt exchanged a glance, both of them breathing heavily, too, and then Juliette stepped forward, standing just inches away from the man who had just attacked her.

"We have every right to be here, Mr. Fernando," she said. "We’re investigating the murder of Heather Andrew. She was murdered two nights ago in her apartment. And I see there's a photo of her on your wall. Seeing that photo through the window gave us cause to enter and search your premises."

Fernando's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he looked almost scared. But then the anger returned, and he spat at Juliette's feet.

"Lies! All lies! I have nothing to do with any murder!"

"We're going to take you in for questioning," she said firmly. "And we're going to find out what you know about this crime."

***

Half an hour later, after a mammoth struggle that had attracted a crowd of interested bystanders as they wrestled their suspect down the stairs and into the police van, Fernando was in custody and being processed at the local police station.

At last, he was in the interview room, secured to the steel table with handcuffs that he was still struggling against. Juliette had no doubt this interview was going to be a challenge.

She needed to cut through the rage and the attacks and the denial and get to the truth about his whereabouts and his actions on the night of the crime.

Fernando’s phone had been in his jacket pocket, but he’d refused to open it. He claimed he’d forgotten the code, which Juliette knew for sure was an outright lie.

Now, Sierra was using a hacking program to gain access. Juliette hoped that it would work because the information on that phone could be vitally important, especially if he'd photographed Samantha on the night of the crime.

Walking in with Wyatt, Juliette took a seat across from Fernando. She watched, keeping her face expressionless as he wrestled with the cuffs, struggling and swearing. The smell of fresh sweat filled the small, warm room.

For a while, she and Wyatt simply allowed the silence to build. And after a few more rantings and threats, Fernando fell silent and stopped struggling. He was breathing hard, and she thought he now looked cornered. Finally, he was in a mindset where he might actually be ready to talk.

"We need to ask you some questions, and we need clear answers," Juliette explained to him. "You already have several charges against you. These are serious charges, so I suggest you cooperate."

"Oh, I know you, police! You just want to frame me for something and put me away! It's what you do. You're the criminals, not me!" he raged.

"You took photos of Heather Andrew," Wyatt accused.

He shrugged. "I take photos of everyone. It's what I do. It's my art. I won't be stopped because of your petty rules."

"Even if they involve trespassing and breaking and entering?" Juliette asked, and watched him flush darkly. Now he didn’t reply but just stared down at the table.

"Did you take it further?" Juliette asked. "You clearly get very angry when people surprise you. Were you angry the night before last? Did Heather Andrew surprise you while you were inside her place?"

He paused, staring at her. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, did you end up killing the dark-haired woman, Samantha, in the apartment on the floor below yours? Did you come in through the fire escape? Is that how you did it?"

He stared at her. Then, to her shock, his face split into a wide, cold grin, and he began to laugh.

"Oh, you think you're so clever. You think that you're just the big brains that will solve everything. You don't even know you have the wrong guy. I wasn't there that night."

"Prove it!" Juliette threatened.

But he shook his head. "I don't need to prove a thing. You go ahead and lay your charges. When it comes to court, you'll be humiliated, and I'll walk free!"

Juliette stared at him, feeling doubtful. There was something about the raw confidence in his tone that convinced her he wasn’t bluffing.

And then, Sierra messaged her, the phone buzzing in Juliette's pocket.

"I've opened the phone, but there’s a serious problem here. Can you come and look?"

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