Page 20 of The Smart Killer
“For now,” he said, going back across the lot, eyeing Porter through the windshield. “Any luck locating Adam or the black Tundra?”
“Well, that’s the thing. We didn’t need to. He walked into the station ten minutes ago.”
6
In the shadowy observation room, Noah, Ray, and Porter shared a charged silence, their eyes fixed on Adam Johnson through the one-way mirror. Adam shifted uncomfortably, seated in the brightly lit, cramped interview chamber, with barely enough space for a small table and three chairs. His posture was tense as he anxiously glanced around the room.
There was a clock on the wall, its ticking sound punctuating the silence in the room. The hands moved steadily, marking the passage of time as they prepared to interview him.
Adam, a black man in his thirties, was wearing a worn-out grey hoodie that seemed out of place in the formal setting of the police station. His eyes were bloodshot, likely from a lack of sleep or the emotional turmoil he was experiencing after the tragedy at his home. Noah noted his hands slightly trembling, revealing his inner stress.
“So, he just walked in of his own accord?” Noah asked.
“Yep. It’s as plain as day. Said he wanted to speak to someone about a fire at his home. Hasn’t told us where he’s been since or where he was that night. Wants to speak to a detective. Doesn’t want a lawyer, at least not right now.”
“Any signs of a struggle?”
“No scratches, no bruises, he’s given us a DNA swab and prints. He’s cooperating.”
“You told him his family’s dead?”
“He already knew. I guess a neighbor told him. Can’t keep that under wraps. Can you imagine that? Rolling up to your house to find it burnt to the ground only to be told by a neighbor that your kids and fiancée are dead.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “After that, he came straight here. Figured I would wait until you arrived.”
“Let’s go in then.”
“Is the rook coming in?”
Noah exchanged a glance with Porter. “Do you want…”
“Of course.”
After entering the interview room, Noah and Ray sat across the table from Adam. The room was tense, heavy with anticipation. Adam looked up at them, his eyes full of grief. It was clear from the red in his eyes he had been crying.
Across the room, Porter leaned back against the wall, watching the scene unfold with keen interest. His eyes darted between the three, absorbing the atmosphere, ready to learn from the seasoned investigators.
“Hi, Adam. Noah, State Police. I should let you know that this interview is being recorded. I’ve been told you have waived your right to legal counsel.” He paused. “I just want to say that I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Silence lingered for a moment, the air thick with unspoken questions.
Adam stared back like a man lost at sea, so Noah continued. “Who was the man found dead at the house?”
“My brother. Jamal. He was visiting me from out east.”
Finally it made sense.
Noah nodded. “Where did you go last night?”
“Down to the marina. I was on my boat.”
“And the truck and gasoline canisters?”
“I borrowed Jamal’s rental. Didn’t want to spill gas in my Tesla. I headed out to get some gas, fill up the boat, and get groceries and alcohol. I was going to take my brother out fishing for two nights. Hannah came over to look after the kids. My kids…” he stopped, emotion rising in his voice.
Noah gave him a minute.
“Why didn’t you return home last night?”
He lifted his eyes and closed them, then looked back at Noah. “Because my brother was meant to join me. He stayed an extra hour because he was playing a video game with my youngest son. I told him to take the Tesla, and I would meet him down at the marina.”
