Murder at The White Rabbit Hotel

She was dropped off in front of The White Rabbit Hotel around six that night. It was a cold October night, unusually chilly for this time of year, and as she stepped out of the taxi she couldn’t help but shiver. The city of Chicago had been the victim of a freak snowstorm, and everywhere Alice looked she saw a blanket of white. It was already dark outside, and the hotel stairs gleamed, thick with ice, bathed in the light of the street lamp.

“I should have worn more sensible shoes,” the petite brunette muttered under her breath before picking up her suitcase and starting up the icy stairs. She was wearing a gorgeous pair of designer shoes, on which she had regrettably spent the entirety of her last paycheck, thus necessitating her stay at one of the lesser hotels in the Chicago area.

It wasn’t a total dive. In fact, it had once been the type of place where presidents and movie stars stayed. Built for the World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893, it was directly across the street from Grant Park. The lobby walls were covered with ornate mosaics, and attached to the hotel was a very nice bar aptly named The Rabbit Hole. Unfortunately, The White Rabbit Hotel was no longer in its prime. Time had stolen most of its glory, as it does with everything, and now her rich red carpets were faded and threadbare, the ornate mosaics dull and crackled with age, and here and there one couldn’t help but notice the slightly yellowed paint peeling off the walls.

But Alice wasn’t thinking about that as she started up the stairs. Her thoughts dwelled on the wedding reception she had just left. It had been her little sister’s wedding. Alice was eight years older than her sister, and being a bridesmaid, and still single, at her twenty-year-old sister’s wedding had made the whole ordeal rather depressing. The only bright spot to the whole day had been the fact that she got to pick her own bridesmaid’s dress. So at least she didn’t have to don some taffeta monstrosity on top of all her emotional humiliation. She actually looked rather pretty just then, in her champagne colored gown and ivory dress coat. Her long dark hair was blowing around a bit, and her pale cheeks were rosy from the icy wind.

She had nearly reached the top when she suddenly lost her footing on the icy stairs. Her hand flew out to catch the rail, but it too was slippery, and she started to fall backwards. Bracing herself to hit the ground, she instead fell into the arms of someone who had apparently been just a few steps behind her. She looked up, dazed, at her Good Samaritan. He was a tall man, at least compared to her, probably in his fifties, with dark hair and striking green eyes.

“Thanks,” she told him as he helped her up. “I guess I’m lucky you were right behind me.”

“Not a problem,” he replied with a smile, and she noticed he had a British accent.

He held open the door for her, and they both entered the hotel. The first thing Alice noticed was the stale odor of the place. It smelled as if it had been without fresh air for years. Alice made her way to the check in counter as she listened to the strains of a piano being played in the far corner of the lobby.

Behind the counter stood a mousy looking woman with gray hair. She was terribly thin, her pointed nose protruding absurdly from her narrow face; her wire rimmed glasses perched precariously near the end of her nose, as if at any moment they might slide off her face completely. Her two front teeth stuck out a bit, making her look even more rodent like.

“May I help you?” the mousy woman asked her.

“Yes. I’m checking in. I have a reservation for Alice Jones.” The woman pressed a few keys on her computer, and then looked up at Alice.

“Welcome to The White Rabbit Hotel. We have you down for a non-smoking single room. Here is your key card. Room 527. The elevator is to your left. Check out time is 11 a.m.”

“Wait a minute. Did you say non-smoking? I reserved a smoking room.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Jones. We don’t have any available right now.”

“It’s Miss Jones,” Alice corrected her. “And I made a reservation for a smoking room.”

“And I’m terribly sorry, Miss Jones, but there are no smoking rooms available right now.”

“I don’t believe this!” Alice banged her fist on the counter in frustration.

“You can smoke in the lobby,” the woman told her. “Or the bar.”

“I don’t want to smoke in the lobby or the bar. I want to smoke in my freaking hotel room!” At this the mousy woman behind the counter began to cry, and Alice suddenly felt bad for yelling at her. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said in the most soothing voice she could manage. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No,” the woman replied, shaking her head. “It’s not you. My boyfriend just left me, and last week I had to put my cat to sleep, and then this morning I had an eviction notice tacked on my door. I hate my job. This is a really crappy place to work. And my mom’s an alcoholic; I can’t ask her for help. My dad died last year, and it’s just – it’s just I feel so alone right now.” Alice stood there, speechless for a moment.

“Um…listen…I guess a non-smoking room will be fine,” she said, and she took the key card from the counter, and walked away slowly, leaving the mousy woman there still muttering to herself. Alice started to head over to the elevator, when she saw the man who had just helped her outside on the stairs. He was sitting on one of the many red velvet couches in the large lobby, smoking a cigarette and lazily blowing smoke rings in the air.

“Well that was interesting,” he said as she walked by.

“Tell me about it.” She stopped and pulled her cigarettes out of her purse and sat down on the couch opposite his.

“Can you believe so much misfortune can befall one person?”

“Sadly, yes.” She paused to light her cigarette. “What I can’t believe is that she had a boyfriend.”

“Oh, there’s someone for everyone. Or that’s what they say anyway.” He blew a few more smoke rings into the air.

“Not for her, apparently. He left her, remember?” He shook his head, smoke swirling in the air around him.

“No. There’s someone for her. She’ll find herself a mousy little lover and they’ll live happily ever after in a little hole in the wall somewhere.” Alice giggled in spite of herself.

“So you really believe there’s someone out there for everyone?” she asked.

“Don’t you?”

“I think that’s a little unrealistic,” Alice replied.

“You’re a pessimistic little thing, aren’t you?”

“I am not!” she retorted.

“It’s a shame you’re such a disagreeable person.”

“I am not a disagreeable person!” Alice protested, her voice bordering on shrill.

“May I give you some advice?” he asked her.

“You don’t know me. How can you give me advice?”

“Who are you then?”

“Huh?”

“Who are you?” He repeated himself slowly, blowing a smoke ring in her face.

“What?”

“Enlighten me,” he said sarcastically, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Tell me who you really are.”

“I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“That’s true,” he said as he put out his cigarette. “Why did you sit by me then?”

“I wanted to smoke.”

“Did you?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I did, actually.” Alice put her cigarette out angrily. “And now I’m done.” She got up, picked up her suitcase, and walked to the elevator. She stood there, tapping her foot impatiently while waiting for the doors to open.

“I’m afraid I’ve made a bad impression on you,” said a voice behind her, and she knew it was the smoking man.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said flatly.

“I want to give you some advice.”

“What is it?” He leaned in towards her until he was so close she could smell the cigarette on his breath.

“Watch your temper,” he purred in her ear. Then he turned around and walked back to his couch in the lobby.

“That’s it?” Alice yelled after him. “That’s your advice?” The man gave no response as he retrieved a fresh cigarette from a shiny silver cigarette case and lit it.
“Fuck you!” Alice yelled at him right as the elevator doors opened. People started to get off, and when they had gone, Alice looked towards the lobby one last time. He sat watching her with heavy lidded eyes, and when she met his gaze he winked at her. Exasperated, Alice sighed angrily and got in the elevator.

On the next floor, two other people got on the elevator with her. One an old woman, and the other a teenage girl with bright pink hair. The old woman looked at Alice.

“Did you hear about the murder?” She asked her.

“What murder?”

“There was a murder here last night. A young woman got murdered in room 526.” Alice swallowed hard. That was the room right next to hers! She didn’t tell the old woman that, though.

“What was it?” Alice asked her. “A lover’s quarrel or something?”

“They don’t know. I overheard the policemen talking in the hallway last night. They don’t have a single lead. Their only clue is – whoever it was – left a bloody white rose sitting next to the body.”

“How’d it happen?” asked the teenage girl.

“I just told you,” the old woman replied. “They don’t know.”

“No,” the teenager said with a roll of her eyes. “How did she die?”

“I heard she was stabbed. Several times, actually. You two young ladies be careful. I wouldn’t get too friendly with anyone I didn’t know if I were you.” The elevator dinged, and Alice got off on the fifth floor. She made her way to room 527. As she passed room 526’s door, she looked at the yellow police tape that crossed it. She felt slightly sick to her stomach thinking about the murder, and hoped she wouldn’t be too scared to sleep that night.

She couldn’t sleep as it turned out, and around ten thirty that night, Alice found herself in the dimly lit bar, sipping a rum and coke, staring lazily up at the television. The news was on, they were reporting a story about the upcoming elections. One candidate was accusing the other of mismanaging their campaign fund, or something like that. Alice had very little interest in politics. The one time she had actually gone out and voted, her candidate had won the popular vote but lost the electoral vote. It was clear to her then that her vote really didn’t matter, so she had stopped paying attention to politics altogether.

“I used to be a politician,” slurred the fat bald man on the barstool next to her. He positively reeked of cigar smoke, which combined with the strong smell of alcohol on his breath to form a particularly vile odor.

“Did you?” Alice responded, completely disinterested.

“Yup. I was a mayor once. Ran for governor, but I lost the election. And I wanted to be a congressman too, but…” he trailed off and chugged his beer. Little dribbles of it seeped from the corner of his mouth as he drank, splashing onto his shirt. Alice cringed. She’d never seen a more disgusting specimen of man. Hopefully, if she ignored him, maybe he would stop talking and leave her alone.

“You’re pretty.” He said drunkenly, putting his hand on her knee.

“You’re pathetic.” Repulsed, Alice jerked her knee away.

“Don’t be a bitch,” he slurred. Alice was just about to tell him off, when she heard someone speak behind her.

“Someone’s had too much to drink.” Alice turned around to face him. It was that exasperating man from the lobby earlier. He smiled at her. “I’m sitting over there.” He pointed to a table at the back of the bar. “Why don’t you join me?” Alice thought about it for a minute. She wasn’t particularly fond of him, but he was considerably better than the drunken politician sitting next to her.

“Sure,” she replied, and they headed to his table. It turned out his name was James Green. He lived in London and was in Chicago for a business trip. He was very witty and surprisingly charming, and Alice soon found herself laughing and having a good time. He bought her several drinks, and as they talked Alice realized with a jolt that despite his age she actually found him rather attractive. She was more than a little surprised at herself when after a couple of hours she invited him up to her room.

In the elevator on the way up to the fifth floor, he began to kiss her. The kiss was slow and languid, his lips on hers felt soft and strangely luxurious. He smelled so good; crisp, clean and deliciously masculine. He was so smooth, so seductive in his every little movement that Alice was absolutely driven mad with lust. While he was kissing her neck, she happened to look up and notice the security camera in the upper corner of the elevator.

“We’re being watched,” she whispered, motioning to the camera.

“The security guards have to get their jollies somehow,” he murmured with a grin and then kissed her again. His velvety warm mouth was evoking sensations she had never felt before. In his arms she felt oddly limp and powerless. He was positively hypnotic; she felt like she had lost all self-control. No one else’s kisses had ever had this effect on her. He was making her dizzy. The elevator was spinning around her and she clung to him tightly. She couldn’t wait to get him to her room. She needed it more than she had ever needed anything in her whole life. However, walking to her room she saw again the crime scene tape on room 526, and she suddenly realized how careless she was being.

“I think changed my mind,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t think you should come in.”

“Oh, I think I should…” he purred.

“You know there was a murder here last night?”

“Was there?” His hand was on her ass, and he pulled her to him for another kiss.

“How do I know you’re not a murderer?” She asked him between kisses.

“Are you serious?” He rolled his eyes. Alice nodded. “I assure you I’m not.”

“That’s exactly what a murderer would say.”

“If you let me come inside,” he whispered in her ear. “I promise not to kill you.”

“Well,” Alice moaned softly as he nibbled on her earlobe. “I guess if you promise…” Against her better judgment she let him in, and in the end, she was very happy she did.


The hotel room was dark except for the moonlight streaming in through the window illuminating the bed. Alice rolled over in bed, expecting to see James lying next to her but he wasn’t there. She sat up and looked around for him. His clothes were still on the floor, so she knew he was still there somewhere. She heard a noise behind her and turned around. James was standing behind her holding a knife. The moonlight reflected of the bright steel blade, shining right in her eyes, making it hard for her to see.

“Say goodnight, Alice.”


Alice awoke with a start, bolting upright. She was nervous and shaking, her breathing ragged, her small hands were cold and sweaty. She looked around the room, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. James was gone. She was completely alone. It was at if he had never been there at all, but then she noticed something on the nightstand. Playing cards. There were three of them, to be exact: the two of hearts, the five of hearts, and the seven of spades. She thought to herself that it was very odd of him to have left them there, but she shrugged it off. Still shaken from the dream, she was afraid to go back to sleep. She remembered seeing a little coffee shop on the corner and decided it was worth braving the cold for. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror.

“Wow. I look like crap.” She muttered under her breath. Her hair was a mess and yesterday’s eye makeup was smeared and smudged, giving her raccoon eyes. She brushed her long hair into a ponytail and washed her face. Looking through her suitcase, Alice grabbed some jeans and a black turtleneck and quickly threw them on. Remembering her close call on the stairs yesterday, she decided to wear her boots. Grabbing her coat, purse and sunglasses, she headed out the door.

She made it to the coffee shop and stood in line at the counter waiting her turn. It seemed that on this particular Sunday, all of Chicago wanted a cup of coffee. Finally it was her turn, and she ordered a large black coffee. She walked back to the hotel, stopping along the way to buy a newspaper. Once back in her room, she sat down on the bed to read the morning paper. However, she had barely even gotten past the headline when there was a knock at her door.

“Ma’am, open up. Chicago P.D.” Alice went and opened the door. Two young police officers stood before her.

“Is there a problem, Officers?” She couldn’t imagine why the police would want to talk to her. After all, she'd done nothing wrong.

“I’m Officer Mike Hatter with the Chicago Police Department, and this is my partner Officer Harris."

"How you doin' this morning?" asked Officer Harris.

"I'm fine. May I ask what this is about?"

"Ma’am," began Officer Hatter. "We’re investigating a homicide that happened last night. Are you Alice Jones?”

“Yes, I’m Alice Jones.”

“You know a girl by the name of Melanie Mitchell?”

“No.”

“What about a Mr. James Green? He says he was with you last night. Is that true?”

“Yeah, he was with me.”

“He says you two met for drinks a little before eleven?”

“Um,” Alice scratched her head, trying to remember. “Yeah, it was right around eleven o’ clock.”

“Okay, that’s all we need. Thanks for your help, Miss Jones.”

“Is he a suspect?” Alice asked the cops in a hushed voice.

“Who? Mr. Green? Not anymore he’s not. Have a nice day ma’am.” The officers left, and Alice closed the door. She tried to relax and finish her coffee and read her paper. But she had an uneasy feeling in her stomach that she couldn’t quite shake. Attributing it to being hung over, she decided some shopping would help her relax. Once again, she put on her coat and headed for the elevator.

She stood in the lobby for a moment contemplating whether or not she should take a taxi. She wasn’t that far from the Magnificent Mile, so she decided to walk even if it was cold out. She hadn’t walked that far when she saw James walking in her direction. He was holding a cup of coffee in his gloved hands, the steam rising off the top of the cup into the chilly morning air.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully when he saw her.

“What happened to you last night?” she asked him.

“Ah. You’ll have to forgive me. I didn’t want to wake you when I left. You were sleeping so peacefully.”

“Was I?”

“Like the dead.” James took a sip of his coffee. “Going somewhere?” he asked her.

“I thought I’d do some shopping. You?”

“Just getting my morning coffee.” He paused and his expression changed a little. “Did some police officers come and speak with you this morning?”

“Yes. They seemed very interested in you, by the way.”

“I know. The poor girl was staying in the room right next to mine. They wanted to know if I heard anything. I didn’t, of course, because I was downstairs in the bar with you.”

“How did it happen?” Alice asked him.

“I heard she was stabbed,” he replied. “Several times, apparently.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Yes.” James nodded sadly. “It is terrible, isn’t it?” He sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “But don’t let it ruin your day. It’s not as if you knew her. Did you?” Alice shook her head.

“No,” she told him, “I didn’t know her… Well, it’s cold, and I have credit cards to max out. Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Have fun shopping,” he said as he started to walk away. “Oh, and how’s that hangover?” Alice winced. Was it that obvious she was hung over?

“It’s okay.” She answered, and he began to walk back to the hotel. “Hey James?” she called after him.

“Yes?” He turned to face her.

“I don’t normally do that, just so you know.” He smirked at her and without saying a word, turned and walked away.

She went about her business, spending most of her afternoon shopping at all the fabulous stores on the Magnificent Mile. She didn’t really have any money to spend, but she did have a credit card, and when it was properly maxed out, she returned to the hotel. Stopping in the lobby to fish a cigarette out of her purse, she thought again about how angry she was that she’d ended up in a non-smoking room. She had a cigarette hanging out the corner of her mouth as she continued to dig in her purse for her lighter.

“Need a light?” The voice came from behind her, and Alice knew exactly who it was. She turned around to see James standing there, with a silver Zippo lighter in his hand. She let him light her cigarette, and she noticed the initials R.G. engraved on the silver lighter.

“So who’s R.G.?” she asked him.

“Pardon me?”

“On the lighter – it has R.G. written on it.”

“Oh,” he sighed. “It’s my wife’s lighter.”

“Your wife?” Alice asked, incredulous.

“My late wife, Rebecca. She died a few years ago.” He lit himself a cigarette.

“I’m so sorry James. What happened to her?”

“Cancer,” he murmured, and his expression grew cloudy for a moment. But then he smiled. There was something not quite right about his smile. It was a little too bright, a little too forced. “Let’s not talk about that, hmm?” He looked at her shopping bags. “Get anything good?” he asked her.

“Yeah, I found some nice things.”

“Let’s see them. Here, come sit down.” They walked to a couch and sat down.

“You don’t really want to see all this crap do you?” Alice asked him. He shrugged.

“Not really. I just wanted an excuse to keep talking to you.” Alice blushed and he smiled. This time though, his smile seemed more warm and genuine. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked her.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she replied.

“Have you ever been to Berghoff’s?”

“What’s Berghoff’s?”

“It’s a German restaurant not too far from here. The food is absolutely exquisite. You have to come.”

“I don’t know…” Alice sighed. “I kind of spent all my money when I went shopping. I should probably stay in tonight.”

“Nonsense. It’ll be my treat.”

“Oh, alright. What time?”

“I’ll come by your room around seven. Does that sound alright?”

“Sure.” Alice put out her cigarette. “I should get this stuff up to my room.” She stood up, collecting her bags. “I’ll see you at seven.” She walked over to the elevator, and when it opened, she got in. The doors opened a few moments later on the fifth floor, and the old woman she’d seen yesterday was in there, and when she saw Alice, she smiled.

“Oh hello, dear. I recognize you from yesterday. How are you doing?”

“Fine, thanks. You?”

“Oh I’m just lovely, dear. It’s a beautiful day out. The weatherman said things are going to warm up a bit. Maybe that snow will start to melt.”

“That’d be nice.” Alice paused. “Have you heard anything else? You know, about the murder in 526?”

“Well, not really, dear. But they did release the woman’s name. It was on the news this morning.”

“Who was she?”

“Some nice young lady named Rose Gafferty. Pretty young thing, too. They showed her picture on the news, and she was just such a pretty girl. It’s a shame, really.” Alice’s mind flashed back to the initials on James’s lighter and she suddenly felt violently ill. She turned to the old woman, her face very pale.

“Are you absolutely certain her name was Rose Gafferty?” Alice asked her, with an intent look on her face.

“Oh yes, dear. I’m absolutely positive.” The old woman furrowed her brow. “Why? Did you know her?” Alice was overcome with panic. Her hands were sweating and she felt dizzy.

“No, no…I just…” she stammered, the elevator spinning slightly. She tried to pull herself together. “No. I didn’t know her.” The elevator opened with a ding on the fifth floor. Alice walked to her room, all the way feeling like she was about to throw up. It was James that killed that woman, she was sure of it. God, she was so stupid! She remembered she was supposed to have dinner with him tonight, and she was terrified. What was she going to do? Why had she gone and slept with him? What was wrong with her? The old woman had warned her to be careful, and she hadn’t listened.

James knocked on her door promptly at seven, and Alice stood on the other side of the door, quaking with fear. After a few moments, when she hadn’t opened the door, he knocked again.

“Alice?” She heard him call out. “Alice, are you in there?” He knocked again.

“I’m sorry, James,” she finally responded from the other side of the door. “I don’t feel well. Maybe another time, okay?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“You can at least open the door to tell me that.”

“I just…” Alice thought quickly. “I just don’t want to get you sick. It could be contagious, you know.”

“Oh come on, Alice. You think I don’t know when I’m being lied to? Open this door.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I just can’t. Please go.” When there was no response she assumed he’d left. A half-hour later, she was dying for a cigarette, and thinking he had gone to dinner alone, she planned on running down to the lobby for a quick smoke. When she opened the door, she saw him standing against the wall, smoking.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. Someone did get murdered here the other night, you know. When you said you couldn’t open the door, I thought maybe…” he trailed off, his expression an odd mix of anger and hurt. “But you look alright, so I guess I should get going, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” Alice said, suddenly feeling guilty. Maybe she was wrong about him after all.

“I really liked you, Alice,” he said softly.

“I really liked you too.”

“Why are you acting so strange then? If you didn’t want to have dinner with me you could have just said no.”

“I did want to go, James. I’m such an idiot. It’s just…I spoke with this woman in the elevator, and she said…”

“Said what? That I’m the killer? Is that what you think?”

“No.”

“And yet all of a sudden you act like you’re terrified of me…hmm…”

“I don’t think you’re the killer at all, James. It’s just…” He kissed her suddenly, interrupting her, and she knew deep down that it was the last time he would ever kiss her.

“If I had wanted to kill you, Alice,” he whispered as his fingers gently grazed her neck. “I could have easily done it last night, no?” She nodded, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she offered lamely, but he withdrew his hand, turned around and started to walk towards the elevator.

“See you around, kid,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away. She stood there, frozen to the spot as she watched him get on the elevator. She was overwhelmed with feelings of sadness and loss, and she went back in her room, lay down on the bed and cried.

A little later there was a knock on her door. With her face red, and her eyes puffy from crying, she walked to the door and opened it, thinking it was James. However, it was not James at all, but one of the police officers she'd talked to that morning.

“Officer Hatter! What's going on?” Alice asked.

“Did you get the cards?” He had terrible bad breath, and Alice couldn’t help wrinkling her nose at the smell of him.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“The cards,” he repeated. Alice tried to slam the door shut as it dawned on her suddenly that she was in danger. He was surprisingly strong, and he pushed his way into her room and tossed her up against the wall like she was a rag doll. She fell to the floor in a little heap, and looked up at him, dazed. She felt something wet on her forehead and realized to her horror it was blood. Her head hurt so bad and try as she might she couldn’t quite focus her eyes. He stood there, looking down at her, and then he laughed maniacally.

“The cards? Don’t tell me you didn’t get them; the two and five of hearts, and the seven of spades. I must say, I’m sorry I’m late. I intended to be here at seven, but there was someone standing by your door for quite some time.”

Alice’s throat constricted in fear, and she found herself unable to speak. The pain in her head was so intense she could hardly stand it. He reached down and grabbed her arm fiercely, jerking her up off the floor and throwing her into a chair in the corner of the room. His eyes gleamed cruelly as he continued to speak.

“Tell me, Alice, are you familiar with Alice in Wonderland? Surely you are. That’s always been my favorite book. When I found out I had my very own Alice here at The White Rabbit, I just knew I had to have you.” He pulled a knife out of his coat pocket. “I thought that annoying Brit was going to get in my way, but you took care of him for me. Thanks.” He paused, looking awfully pleased with himself. “Do you know why I leave the cards? Why numbers two, five, and seven?” Alice shook her head, tears running down her face, her small frame trembling in sheer terror.

“In the book," he told her. "Two, five and seven were the cards painting the roses red.” He laughed and pulled a white rose from the inside of his coat. “Do you like white roses, Alice?” She screamed as he advanced towards her menacingly.

Meanwhile, in the bar downstairs, James sat by himself smoking a cigarette. He was very hurt that Alice thought he was capable of murdering someone, especially after the amazing night they’d had together. He would never tell her this, but since his wife’s death a few years back, Alice was the first woman he’d met that actually made him feel like maybe he could love again. She was so beautiful and so sweet, or he’d thought she was sweet until she’d so rudely stood him up and then accused him of murder. He had a few drinks and then decided to go to bed. In the elevator, on his way up, were two policemen.

“Hello Officers,” he said dully. “Is there some kind of trouble?”

“Maybe,” one of the officers replied. “We got a report about a noise disturbance in 527. Someone said they heard screaming. We’re checking it out.” James grew pale.

“Room 527?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“A friend of mine’s in 527.” He felt absolutely sick. The elevator opened with a ding on the fifth floor, and he ran to Alice’s room. He banged his fists loudly on the door.

“Alice!” he yelled. “Alice! Open the door!” There was no response. He turned the knob. Nothing. He kicked the door down in a sudden display of strength he didn’t know he had.

“Hey!” One of the officers yelled at him. “You can’t go in there!” But James had already broken the door down and gone in. Alice lay on the floor, covered in blood. There was blood was everywhere. It was splattered on the walls, and some was still seeping from her wounds into the carpet. She was so still, so small and pale, so fragile looking. He knelt beside her and took her pulse, even though he knew in his heart he would not find one.

“Oh, Alice…” he sighed, a tear splashing down onto his wrist. “I’m so sorry!”
There was a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see one of the officers standing behind him.

“Sir,” the officer said quietly. “You’re going to have to leave, now. This is a crime scene.” James stepped out of the room and into the hallway.

“So you knew her, huh?” an officer in the hallway asked him. James leaned up against the wall and took a cigarette out of his silver cigarette case. He lit it and stood there in the hall smoking, watching the officers mill about Alice’s room. He felt completely numb.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I knew her.”