“Now you were saying, Mr. Bassani?” Detective Forson looked questioningly at him then wrote something in his notebook.
Mario pressed his fingers to his temples and cheekbones as he stared down at the table. He took a deep breath and said quietly. “We were in a relationship but I was the one who broke it off after he attacked me, twice, and almost hit my son the second time.”
“I see. So it was an abusive relationship. What did he do once you ended it? I’d presume he wasn’t happy about that.”
Mario looked up and shook his head. “No. He started stalking me.”
“Did you report that to the police?”
“Nope. I figured it wouldn’t do any good as I had no proof to offer. I just knew that he was.”
“How did you know,” Oates asked, leaning over, his hands flat on the table.
“He showed up here several times and once at the park where I took Wil to play.” Mario stopped there. He wasn’t willing to tell them about Jonah’s confrontation with Tate.
Oates looked unbelieving. “It sounds to me like he was just trying to mend fences.”
“That’s why I didn’t report it,” Mario protested. “I knew that’s how you, well they, whoever, would feel. But you weren’t the one that got verbally and physically assaulted. I was. And I kicked him out because of that. He’s violent when he drinks damn it.”
“Was…perhaps, Mr. Bassani. We only have your word for that. He’s dead now and whoever did that to him obviously hated him.” Oates kept his hard gaze locked on Mario for a long moment before he turned to Forson. “I think we should take him down town to finish this conversation.”
“You’re arresting me?” Mario said in shock.
“Not arresting, just questioning, for now.”
Forson tapped a lip then shook his head. “Let’s wait ‘til we get all the reports back then we’ll have a better idea what to ask.”
Mario could tell Oates wanted to drag him away on the spot and prayed that Forson’s common sense would prevail. After a long moment Oates nodded with reluctance then turned back to Mario. “You’re free, for now, but we will be talking to you again so do not think about leaving town.”
“Yes sir,” Mario replied meekly. He sighed with relief when the two detectives walked swiftly out of the room and put his head down on his arms.
That’s how Mr. Reiter found him a few minutes later. He pulled out the same chair Forson had been using and sat down. “So what’s going on?” he asked.
“Jonah’s been killed, murdered.”
“Couldn’t have happened to a better man in my opinion,” Mr. Reiter stated adamantly.
“Maybe, but the police think I did it. Or I think they think that. They didn’t come right out and say it.”
“Do you have an alibi for when it happened?”
Mario shook his head. “I’m pretty sure from what they said he was killed late last night and of course I was home in bed.”
“Alone,” Mr. Reiter said with a small smile.
“Yes, alone. Trust me I’m not looking for someone to keep me company there, not after what Jonah put me through.”
“I was just kidding, Mario. Look, if you want to leave now it’s okay. It’s not that busy today.”
“No. Thanks for the offer but if I did I’d just go home and worry about it all. At least here there’s something to take my mind off of it.”
“All right.” Mr. Reiter stood up. “Come on out as soon as you’re ready.”
“I will. Thanks.”
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