Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > My Deadly Chemical Life (Sequel to My Simple Chemical Life)
“What did you do to my husband?” I asked.
“He was shot when I got here,” Bob said to me looking at Mark.
Suddenly in the distance I heard police sirens, how could they know already? I never called, maybe one of the staff found him and did.
“The police are coming, you need to hide,” I said.
“I have nothing to hide.”
“Bob you’re standing there with a gun that killed him and probably the only set of fingerprints on the gun. Once they start investigating and find out about us they’ll think you did it in some jealous rage or to protect me.”
“I just wanted to get you out of here. No woman should go through what you went through,” said Bob softly.
“I was scared remembering what you said about killing someone if they ever hurt me.”
“Do you really think I’m capable of murder? I guess you never really knew me.”
“Here,” I grabbed his hand and led him to the sub basement that housed my father’s precious collection of cars. “Hide here I’ll be back as soon as they’re gone.” I went to kiss him on the cheek and he turned away.
“No Madison that part of my life is over. I don’t feel the same way anymore.”
I walked away in tears. Doesn’t he know how much I love him, will always love him. I got upstairs in time for the knock on the door. I answered in tears.
“Hello, I’m Dective Holloway, did someone reported murder?”
“Yes, I walked in and found my husband lying in there,” I pointed to where his body laid.
The detective went over and felt a pulse, “Yeah he’s dead.”
He took out a pencil and a notebook and started jotting things down, “I need to call in a CSI team and have them start looking for evidence.” He then looked at Marks body, “Seems like three gunshot wounds. But an autopsy will tell what killed him.”
“So were you here?”
“No.”
“Where were you?”
“Over a friend’s house.”
“Friend’s name?”
“Eloise Bryar.”
“Both those cars parked out front yours?”
“The Mercedes was my husband’s.”
What am I going to say all they have to do is run the plate and they knew it was Bob’s.
“It’s a friend’s car.”
“Friend’s name?”
“Bob Bryar.”
“Eloise’s husband?”
“Her son.”
“Where is he now?”
“He left.”
“Without his car?”
“It wouldn’t start so I gave him a ride home.”
“That being?”
“Downers Grove.”
“Did your husband have any enemies?”
“How many hours do you have?”
“Do you have a problem with your eyes where you need to wear those huge sunglasses inside?”
“No.”
“Could you please take them off?”
I slowly removed them revealing my swollen black eye from the night before. My other bruises were either hidden with my clothes or covered with make-up.
“Did your husband do this?”
I looked down at the ground, “Yes.”
“Did you kill him Mrs. Gadsen?”
“No.”
“I mean there are laws protecting battered woman in cases like these.”
“Really? He tried to kill me and raped me.” I took off my scarf showing the choke marks.
“Have you taken a shower?”
“No.”
“Then I need for you to go to the hospital and get a rape kit done, once I’m done questioning you. I’ll have a female officer accompany you.”
“Thank you,” what else was I supposed to say.
“Did Mr. Bryar witness any of this?”
“No.”
“When was he here?”
“Earlier today.”
“Before or after?”
“Before.”
“Bob has nothing to do with this. I killed him in self defense.” I walked over to where the gun laid, and picked it up making sure my fingerprints were all over it. “Here’s the gun.”
“You shouldn’t have touched that it’s evidence.”
“But you don’t need evidence I admitted to killing him.”
“With no witnesses I have to prove it was self defense.”
“How?”
“The rape kit will help along with the choke marks. In the meantime I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Mark Gadsen.”
“What?”
“You’ve admitted you committed a crime so I’m arresting you. You’ll go to the hospital get the rape kit done and we’ll make that the choke marks did in deed come from your husband. If there is enough evidence for self defense this won’t even go to trial.”
There was a knock on the door and the detective went to let some people in. They were all holding bags and cases. One had a camera and finally there was a man with a gurney. A woman came in and she put handcuffs on me and then placed me in the back of the police car.
Det. Holloway’s POV
I looked at the crime scene and my gut told me there was way more to this story than she was telling. I’ll find out. When I took this job in Kenilworth and out of the streets of Chicago they told me it would be a piece of cake, investigating stolen bikes, cars and such not like the murders back in the city. But here I am two months into it and already I have a murder, a murder that could involve a very beautiful and very rich woman and some how maybe even a rock star. Where the fuck did I land in Lala land. Things like this happed on the west coast not middle America. The CSI team that was called was from Chicago and I worked with them before, they started to gather the evidence when one of them called me over.
“Holloway come here.”
“What do you got?”
“This note.”
I read it.
‘Here’s a small reminder to keep you in line.’ I wonder what was on the disc. “Bag it with the note and look at it back in the station.”
This case was getting more curious by the moment. The CSI dectective bagged it and then gave a whistle. “What is it?” I asked.
“A paternity test, seems someone’s been fucking around.”
“What the fuck does a paternity test have to do with anything?”
“Nothing I think, but it seems that a Bob Bryar is not the daddy of a certain Bobby Bryar.”
“Did you say Bob Bryar?”
“Yeah it seems his cousin is the daddy. Aren’t we a little too far north for this bullshit?”
“I guess not,” I mumbled. So what the fuck is the connection between Bryar and Gadsen, and why is this information so important except to Bryar? Fuck this is going to interesting even if it has nothing to do with the murder. I wonder how much the tabloids would give for this bit of info. Do they know that he even has a son? Never mind one that isn’t even his.
“Bag it,” I said.
I looked around at the crime scene the photographer was taking pictures of everything, the team was dusting for fingerprints and such, when I heard the door open.
He looked shocked as he entered.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m Ainsworth and I am an employee of the house.”
Stupid rich people and their stupid British butlers. “There was a murder in the house. It seems the pretty lady popped off her husband and we’re just here to collect the evidence to prove it was self defense.”
“Then I need to show you something?”
Ainsworth led me to a hidden room. I stood there in shock.
“So the happy couple was into S&M?”
“Well one of them was.” Ainsworth opened the cabinet and there were rows of discs one section was separated from the rest and labeled Madison. “He has been obsessed with her since he met her. He has been spying on her since she was sixteen, though it’s the last five discs that will interest you.
“What’s on those?”
“It’s what he’s taped since they’ve been married almost six months now, including today.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because after she had left I found the nit lying on the floor, bleeding slightly from his head. I got a rag stopped the bleeding and he came to. He went to the computer and took a disc out saying ‘You know where it goes.’ So I put it here,” he said pointing to the last disc.
“Hank get over here,” I yelled to one of the CSI guys.
Hank ran to me and stopped to look at the room, “Fuck you always hear about these rooms, never thought I’d see one.”
“This part of the cabinet where it says Madison, load it up,” I said. “But keep these last five separated.”
Two hours later we were done collecting the evidence. Milly called and said that she had booked Gadsen and read her her rights. Now all I have to do is sift through the information and give it to the DA to see if charges were going to be pressed.
I hate murder cases especially rich ones, all sorts of layers have to be uncovered before the truth is found out if ever. Before I left I looked for Ainsworth, “Hey Ainsworth,” I said as I walked into the kitchen, “did you see Bryar today?”
“I haven’t seen Mr. Bryar since Ms. Trenton’s wedding.”
“So he wasn’t here today?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“One more thing what’s her connection with Bryar?”
“They’re in love.”
“You mean were in love.”
“I believe they still are.”
“Thanks,” I said I left. Like I said fucking layers and I think I just pealed back two.
“He was shot when I got here,” Bob said to me looking at Mark.
Suddenly in the distance I heard police sirens, how could they know already? I never called, maybe one of the staff found him and did.
“The police are coming, you need to hide,” I said.
“I have nothing to hide.”
“Bob you’re standing there with a gun that killed him and probably the only set of fingerprints on the gun. Once they start investigating and find out about us they’ll think you did it in some jealous rage or to protect me.”
“I just wanted to get you out of here. No woman should go through what you went through,” said Bob softly.
“I was scared remembering what you said about killing someone if they ever hurt me.”
“Do you really think I’m capable of murder? I guess you never really knew me.”
“Here,” I grabbed his hand and led him to the sub basement that housed my father’s precious collection of cars. “Hide here I’ll be back as soon as they’re gone.” I went to kiss him on the cheek and he turned away.
“No Madison that part of my life is over. I don’t feel the same way anymore.”
I walked away in tears. Doesn’t he know how much I love him, will always love him. I got upstairs in time for the knock on the door. I answered in tears.
“Hello, I’m Dective Holloway, did someone reported murder?”
“Yes, I walked in and found my husband lying in there,” I pointed to where his body laid.
The detective went over and felt a pulse, “Yeah he’s dead.”
He took out a pencil and a notebook and started jotting things down, “I need to call in a CSI team and have them start looking for evidence.” He then looked at Marks body, “Seems like three gunshot wounds. But an autopsy will tell what killed him.”
“So were you here?”
“No.”
“Where were you?”
“Over a friend’s house.”
“Friend’s name?”
“Eloise Bryar.”
“Both those cars parked out front yours?”
“The Mercedes was my husband’s.”
What am I going to say all they have to do is run the plate and they knew it was Bob’s.
“It’s a friend’s car.”
“Friend’s name?”
“Bob Bryar.”
“Eloise’s husband?”
“Her son.”
“Where is he now?”
“He left.”
“Without his car?”
“It wouldn’t start so I gave him a ride home.”
“That being?”
“Downers Grove.”
“Did your husband have any enemies?”
“How many hours do you have?”
“Do you have a problem with your eyes where you need to wear those huge sunglasses inside?”
“No.”
“Could you please take them off?”
I slowly removed them revealing my swollen black eye from the night before. My other bruises were either hidden with my clothes or covered with make-up.
“Did your husband do this?”
I looked down at the ground, “Yes.”
“Did you kill him Mrs. Gadsen?”
“No.”
“I mean there are laws protecting battered woman in cases like these.”
“Really? He tried to kill me and raped me.” I took off my scarf showing the choke marks.
“Have you taken a shower?”
“No.”
“Then I need for you to go to the hospital and get a rape kit done, once I’m done questioning you. I’ll have a female officer accompany you.”
“Thank you,” what else was I supposed to say.
“Did Mr. Bryar witness any of this?”
“No.”
“When was he here?”
“Earlier today.”
“Before or after?”
“Before.”
“Bob has nothing to do with this. I killed him in self defense.” I walked over to where the gun laid, and picked it up making sure my fingerprints were all over it. “Here’s the gun.”
“You shouldn’t have touched that it’s evidence.”
“But you don’t need evidence I admitted to killing him.”
“With no witnesses I have to prove it was self defense.”
“How?”
“The rape kit will help along with the choke marks. In the meantime I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Mark Gadsen.”
“What?”
“You’ve admitted you committed a crime so I’m arresting you. You’ll go to the hospital get the rape kit done and we’ll make that the choke marks did in deed come from your husband. If there is enough evidence for self defense this won’t even go to trial.”
There was a knock on the door and the detective went to let some people in. They were all holding bags and cases. One had a camera and finally there was a man with a gurney. A woman came in and she put handcuffs on me and then placed me in the back of the police car.
Det. Holloway’s POV
I looked at the crime scene and my gut told me there was way more to this story than she was telling. I’ll find out. When I took this job in Kenilworth and out of the streets of Chicago they told me it would be a piece of cake, investigating stolen bikes, cars and such not like the murders back in the city. But here I am two months into it and already I have a murder, a murder that could involve a very beautiful and very rich woman and some how maybe even a rock star. Where the fuck did I land in Lala land. Things like this happed on the west coast not middle America. The CSI team that was called was from Chicago and I worked with them before, they started to gather the evidence when one of them called me over.
“Holloway come here.”
“What do you got?”
“This note.”
I read it.
‘Here’s a small reminder to keep you in line.’ I wonder what was on the disc. “Bag it with the note and look at it back in the station.”
This case was getting more curious by the moment. The CSI dectective bagged it and then gave a whistle. “What is it?” I asked.
“A paternity test, seems someone’s been fucking around.”
“What the fuck does a paternity test have to do with anything?”
“Nothing I think, but it seems that a Bob Bryar is not the daddy of a certain Bobby Bryar.”
“Did you say Bob Bryar?”
“Yeah it seems his cousin is the daddy. Aren’t we a little too far north for this bullshit?”
“I guess not,” I mumbled. So what the fuck is the connection between Bryar and Gadsen, and why is this information so important except to Bryar? Fuck this is going to interesting even if it has nothing to do with the murder. I wonder how much the tabloids would give for this bit of info. Do they know that he even has a son? Never mind one that isn’t even his.
“Bag it,” I said.
I looked around at the crime scene the photographer was taking pictures of everything, the team was dusting for fingerprints and such, when I heard the door open.
He looked shocked as he entered.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m Ainsworth and I am an employee of the house.”
Stupid rich people and their stupid British butlers. “There was a murder in the house. It seems the pretty lady popped off her husband and we’re just here to collect the evidence to prove it was self defense.”
“Then I need to show you something?”
Ainsworth led me to a hidden room. I stood there in shock.
“So the happy couple was into S&M?”
“Well one of them was.” Ainsworth opened the cabinet and there were rows of discs one section was separated from the rest and labeled Madison. “He has been obsessed with her since he met her. He has been spying on her since she was sixteen, though it’s the last five discs that will interest you.
“What’s on those?”
“It’s what he’s taped since they’ve been married almost six months now, including today.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because after she had left I found the nit lying on the floor, bleeding slightly from his head. I got a rag stopped the bleeding and he came to. He went to the computer and took a disc out saying ‘You know where it goes.’ So I put it here,” he said pointing to the last disc.
“Hank get over here,” I yelled to one of the CSI guys.
Hank ran to me and stopped to look at the room, “Fuck you always hear about these rooms, never thought I’d see one.”
“This part of the cabinet where it says Madison, load it up,” I said. “But keep these last five separated.”
Two hours later we were done collecting the evidence. Milly called and said that she had booked Gadsen and read her her rights. Now all I have to do is sift through the information and give it to the DA to see if charges were going to be pressed.
I hate murder cases especially rich ones, all sorts of layers have to be uncovered before the truth is found out if ever. Before I left I looked for Ainsworth, “Hey Ainsworth,” I said as I walked into the kitchen, “did you see Bryar today?”
“I haven’t seen Mr. Bryar since Ms. Trenton’s wedding.”
“So he wasn’t here today?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“One more thing what’s her connection with Bryar?”
“They’re in love.”
“You mean were in love.”
“I believe they still are.”
“Thanks,” I said I left. Like I said fucking layers and I think I just pealed back two.
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