DEBRA KURTZ WAS DRINKING day-old coffee in the smaller, cleaner of our two interview rooms. “The Meachams were the greatest couple in the world,” she told us tearfully.
“Any reason you can think that anyone would want to hurt them?” I asked.
“I’m going to the soft drink machine downstairs,” Conklin said to Kurtz. “Can I get you something else?”
She shook her head no.
When Conklin was gone, Kurtz leaned across the table and told me about Sandy’s drinking and that both Sandy and Steven had had casual affairs. “I don’t think that means anything, but just so you know.”
Kurtz told me that the Meachams had two children; a boy, Scott, nineteen or so, away at college, and a girl, Rebecca, older and married, living in Philadelphia. Kurtz choked up again, as though something painful was stuck in her gut1 - or her conscience.
“Is there something else you want to tell me, Debra? Something going on between you and Steven Meacham?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, there was.”
Kurtz watched the door as she talked, as if she wanted to finish talking before Conklin returned. She said, “I hated myself for cheating on Sandy. It’s hard to explain, but in a way I loved her as much as I loved Steve.”
I pushed a box of tissues over to her side of the table as Conklin came back into the interrogation room. He was holding a computer printout.
“You have a rap2 sheet, Ms. Kurtz,” said Conklin, pulling out a chair. “That kinda surprised me.”
“I was in grief3,” the woman told us, her gray eyes flooding anew. “I didn’t hurt anyone but myself.”
Conklin turned the pages toward me.
“You were arrested for burglary.”
“My boyfriend talked me into it, and I was stupid enough to go along. Anyway, I was acquitted,” Kurtz said.
“You weren’t acquitted,” said Conklin. “You got probation4. I think you made a deal to flip5 on your boyfriend, am I right? Oh, and then there’s the arson6.”
“Randy, my husband Randy, was dead. I wanted to cut my heart out,” she said, pounding her chest with her fist. “I set fire to our house because it was the only way I could see what I felt. The bottomless grief.”
I leaned back in my chair. I think my mouth may have dropped open. Debra Kurtz reacted to the shock on my face.
“It was my own house,” she shouted. “I didn’t even file an insurance claim. I only hurt myself, do you understand? I only hurt myself!”
“Had Steven Meacham broken off your affair?”
“Yes. But it was weeks ago, and it was mutual7.”
“You weren’t a little angry?” Conklin asked. “Didn’t feel a little bottomless grief?”
“No, no, whatever you’re thinking, I didn’t set fire to the Meachams’ house. I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it.”
We asked Debra Kurtz where she was when the Malone house burned, and we asked her if she knew her way around Palo Alto. She had alibis8, and we wrote everything down. What she told us added up to a crazy woman with a burning desire to both destroy and self-destruct.
It added up, and yet it didn’t add up at all. And now it was half past five in the morning.
“You have any trips planned, Debra?” Conklin said, in his charming way.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Good. Please don’t leave town without letting us know.”
1 gut | |
n.[pl.]胆量;内脏;adj.本能的;vt.取出内脏 | |
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2 rap | |
n.轻敲,拍击,责骂,厉声说出,说唱音乐,谈话,最少量;vi.轻敲,敲门,表演说唱音乐,畅谈;vt.抓,抢,拍击 | |
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3 grief | |
n.悲伤,悲痛,悲伤的事,悲痛的缘由 | |
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4 probation | |
n.缓刑(期),(以观后效的)察看;试用(期) | |
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5 flip | |
vt.快速翻动;轻抛;轻拍;n.轻抛;adj.轻浮的 | |
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6 arson | |
n.纵火,放火 | |
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7 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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8 alibis | |
某人在别处的证据( alibi的名词复数 ); 不在犯罪现场的证人; 借口; 托辞 | |
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