Bloody Hills

By the time the sun rose over the Beverly Hills mansion, the large picture window was already stained with blood. Biff Kensington was a commercial actor building his resume and rising in fame. He was found dead in his lavish and boastful home, blood draining from his stomach, murdered at the hands of a kitchen knife. That morning, his 10–year-old daughter walked into the family room to tell her father goodbye as she headed off to school. Seconds later, she came running and screaming to the maid, Vanessa, shaking with fear and shock. After calling the police, Vanessa went and checked the body. She was immediately disgusted and shut the door as she rushed out.

When Detective Marie O’Bannon arrived on the scene, the rest of the CSIs were already working. Some we’re examining the room, and another was preparing the body for its trip to the autopsy lab. Marie walked to the coroner and asked “What have we got here?”

“Obviously, this was a passionate crime. There’s blood everywhere. I suspect that in the heat of an argument, someone lost control of their temper. He tried to fight the killer off, but when he was backed up against the window, he was cornered and stabbed.”

Marie was curious and searching for something unique to work on. “Anything distinctive about the stab wound?”

“I was just thinking about that. The gash is very shallow, only an inch or two into the body. This man bled to death and suffered for at least an hour. Why would anyone want to kill him? From what I hear, he was one of the nicest celebrities around.”

“Maybe someone was jealous of his fame. I’ve gathered three witnesses, so I’m going to have a chat with them.”

Marie set up some interview space in a spare bedroom and met her witnesses there. Vanessa, the young daughter, Emily and her mother, Cynthia were all called in to talk Detective O’Bannon. Marie commenced with Cynthia because she was unaware if the wife was present at the time of the murder. She began, “Mrs. Kensington, were you in the house at all this morning?”

“No. I was at my own apartment all night until Lucy called about Biff.” Odd, thought Marie. Why does the wife have her own place? Thinking out loud, she asked, “You two were married. May I ask why you have your own home away from here?” As Cynthia began speaking, Marie noticed Emily’s chin sink to her chest.

“My husband and I are-well, were– in the middle of a trial separation, well on the way to divorce. Two weeks ago, my daughter found a bra under our couch and brought it to me. It was not mine; it had the initials V.S. penned on the tag. I was so furious that he was having an affair, I couldn’t stay any longer. I took Emily and we stayed at my mother’s house until I found an apartment three days later. Emily missed her father, so I’ve allowed her to visit every so often. She’s been here for two days.” At the word “affair,” Marie raised an eyebrow at potential motive. “Can anyone confirm that you were home all night and this morning?”

Hesitation. Cynthia took some time to think, perhaps make an alibi on the spot. To Marie’s surprise, she answered, “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t speak to or see anyone last night until I came here.”

“OK. Is it alright if I talk to your daughter now?”

“Go ahead, but do you mind if I stay here during the interview?”

“That’s just fine.” Marie turned toward Emily. Her tone switched from serious to playful, something a child would feel comfortable listening to. “Emily, can you tell me what happened this morning before you went to see your daddy?”

“I woke up, got dressed and ate my breakfast. Vanessa made me waffles with chocolate chips and whipped cream.”

Marie thought relating to the child may relax her and get her to open up. “Did she put strawberries on them?” Nodding, Emily’s smile stretched to each end of the room. “Those are my favorite too,” Marie replied. “Do you like living at two different houses?”

The smile disappeared and the young girl focused her attention to the floor. “I don’t like coming back and forth. But my mommy said daddy did a bad thing. She said he hurt her and that they might not be together anymore.”

“I’m so sorry. That must be awful.” Emily was unresponsive. “After you finished breakfast, what did you do?”

“I was going to tell daddy good-bye, but when I walked into the family room, he was lying down on the floor. I went to wake him up and saw the blood. I was so scared. I ran to Vanessa and told her that my daddy was hurt. Then she called the cops and sat with me in the kitchen until my mom got here.”

No new information was presented. Keeping her sound light, Marie thanked Emily and promised her that she would find out who did this to her father. Now it was time for Vanessa, the maid. Very young and beautiful, she couldn’t have been older than 25. She resembled the women that would chase Biff down for autographs or a picture. She was sitting in a chair, very emotional, with a box of Kleenex in her lap. “I guess it’s your turn, Vanessa. First off, can I have your full name please?”

“Vanessa Swenson.” V.S., she must be the woman Biff was having an affair with. She didn’t mention it out loud, but this was of huge interest to Marie She kept it at the front of her mind while questioning the maid. “How long have you been working for Mr. Kensington?”

“Oh, only for a few months. I read that he caught his last maid stealing from him, so I applied for the position. I was so honored when he called me and said that I got the job.” She began another burst of tears, but Marie wasn’t buying her little act.

“Can you tell me what you did last night and this morning before Emily told you what had happened?”

“I finished my chores at about 8 o’clock, and then I went out with some friends. We went to the new club on 14th. Ask anyone, check my tab, I was there. I came home, alone, at about midnight and went up to my room. On my way there, I ran into Biff. He was up getting something to eat. He seemed very groggy and “out-of-it.” And then, uh…” Vanessa trailed off.

“What is it? Please finish your thought.”

“This is embarrassing. Well, umm, he made a pass at me in the hallway. He asked me to come to his room.”

“Did you?”

Vanessa looked toward Cynthia and Emily, but couldn’t look either of them in the eye. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Kensington. I guess that I was a stupid girl who acted on her stupid celebrity crush.” That was conformation enough, Vanessa was V.S. and she was the one having an affair with Biff Kensington. “But afterward, I went straight to my bedroom and didn’t come out until I made Emily her breakfast. I never went into the living and hadn’t seen him all morning until Emily told me what happened.” She began sobbing into a clean handful of tissues.

Nothing could prove 100% that Vanessa was the murderer, nor was there any evidence against Mrs. Kensington. There were only suspicions, and that wasn’t enough to make any accusations. She excused herself and went searching for the coroner in hopes of some new information. On her way through the kitchen, she turned a corner too sharp and bashed her shin against a shelf sitting very low off the floor. She knocked over a set of kitchen knives on a block and quickly picked them up. She then met the coroner in the next room.

“Do you have any new information for me?” Marie was getting frustrated at the lack of progress this case was making. She needed a new lead, and her wish was granted.

“I found this kitchen knife under the couch next to the body. It was obviously the murder weapon. I was just going to the kitchen to try and find where it belongs.”

The answer was clear now. “Forget that,” Marie walked back toward the spare bedroom. “I know who the killer is.”

SPOILER:
Emily Kensington was the killer. Her sudden change of mood when discussing her parent’s relationship indicated that she was not happy with what her father did. The wound on Biff Kensington was shallow. Someone with limited upper body strength, a female, had to of made the kill. He was bleeding from his stomach, Emily could barely reach her father’s chest. Also, the knife found under the couch was missing from the block Marie had knocked over. It was on a very low shelf, the only one that Emily could have reached.