- Sloane here, how can I help you?
- You are the senior officer?
- Yes, I am, what seems to be the trouble?
- I think that Mrs Griffith was murdered by her husband.
- I see, and who may you be?
- That's not important, but I think you should look closer at Mr Griffith's alibi.
Sloane was just about to ask the caller why he thought so when the caller hung up.
He was familiar with the Griffith's case but it was a slow day at the precinct so he decided to grab the Griffith file and have a read though again. Mrs Griffith had been stabbed multiple times and so far they had not been able to find somebody to pin for the murder. Commonly, the husband is at the top of suspects, but Mr Griffith was a respected member of the community and all the people they had spoken to said that he was a good person and a devoted husband.
He spent everyday except for Sundays in their book shop, opened the shop at 9 am and closed at 6 pm, bought his lunch every day from the take-away next doors, and more often than not had a brief chat with the delivery boy while waiting for his lunch to be made. Mrs Griffith rarely made an appearance, only ducked in and out occasionally. As far as the delivery boy and the owner of the take-away were concerned, the marriage seemed harmonious.
He spent everyday except for Sundays in their book shop, opened the shop at 9 am and closed at 6 pm, bought his lunch every day from the take-away next doors, and more often than not had a brief chat with the delivery boy while waiting for his lunch to be made. Mrs Griffith rarely made an appearance, only ducked in and out occasionally. As far as the delivery boy and the owner of the take-away were concerned, the marriage seemed harmonious.
The delivery boy was the person who provided Mr Griffith's alibi, it was he who had said that he had seen Mr Griffith in the movie theater at the time when the murder had taken place.
- What was Mrs Griffith doing at a truck stop 9 pm on a Sunday night? Sloane asked himself.
The mutilated body of Mrs Griffith had been found by an elderly man walking his dog on a path near the truck stop late on that Sunday evening. - Why stab someone nine times and why so viciously? Sloane muttered under his breath. As Sloane read on it seemed as if the general consensus of all of those who had been interviewed was that Mr Griffith was a good man.
- Good men don't stab their wives nine times and then leave them laying there in a bloody mess next to a truck stop, Sloane thought.
As Sloane got up to get himself his fifth coffee, he accidentally pushed the file off the desk and all the papers scattered on the floor.
- Damn! he exclaimed and then bent down and started to pick up the scattered pieces of paper.
As Sloane got up to get himself his fifth coffee, he accidentally pushed the file off the desk and all the papers scattered on the floor.
- Damn! he exclaimed and then bent down and started to pick up the scattered pieces of paper.
- Hey, what's this? A small piece of paper had slipped under his desk. -A ticket stub? Ah, of course, it's the ticket stub from the movie theater that proved that Mr Griffith had been there on the night of the murder. Looking at the stub, a thought dawned on him. -Now hang on, this stub only proves that Mr Griffith was there to buy the ticket at 8 pm, for all we know, he could have bought the ticket, gone in to the cinema, made sure that the delivery boy saw him, and then he could have left. He could have arranged to meet his wife at the truck stop,
Mr Griffith could have left the movie theater, driven to the truck stop, met his wife in the truck stop car park, which I know is quite large and badly lit, stabbed his wife, dragged her body into the bushes next to the car park path, and then driven back to the movie theater before the movie had ended.
- I need to speak with the delivery boy again and ask him if he can verify that Mr Griffith was in the movie theater the whole time, Sloane said to himself as he fumbled through the papers looking for the delivery boy's phone number.
- I need to speak with the delivery boy again and ask him if he can verify that Mr Griffith was in the movie theater the whole time, Sloane said to himself as he fumbled through the papers looking for the delivery boy's phone number.
- Is this James? The delivery boy at Foster's take-away?
- Yes, this is James.
- This is Sloane, Officer in charge at the Lexington Police station, would you be able to come to the station for an interview this afternoon?
- Yes, Sir, what time, I finish work at 4:30 pm. That okay?
- Yes James, that'll be fine.
- Now James, can you say with certainty that you saw Mr Griffith in the movie theater the whole time while the movie was playing?
- Well, no Sir, because he sat a few rows behind me, but I did see him leave when the movie ended, but he is a good man Sir, he would never hurt anyone.
- Thank you James, that will be all, you can leave now.
The delivery boy left, Sloane got up from his chair and got himself yet another bitter tasting coffee.
During his 30 years on the force Sloane had seen good people do bad things and sometimes even bad people do good things so he had concluded years ago that human beings confounded him.
He decided to ask Mr Griffith to come to the station.
- Mr Griffith, thanks for coming in, I just have a few questions for you, coffee?
- No thanks, Mr Sloane, I am fine.
Sloane looked at Mr Griffith as he sat on the edge of his chair, his coat buttoned up, his glasses smudged, and his face flushed. An ordinary man, supposedly a good man, but his hands are shaking, and he seems unsettled, nervous, I better be careful here, Sloane thought.
- Now, Mr Griffith, can somebody verify that you were in the movie theater the whole movie through?
- Why? Somebody said I wasn't? Pearls of perspiration slowly slithered down his flushed face and Sloane noticed that his breathing seemed laboured.
- Mr Griffith, did you murder your wife?
Mr Griffith looked at him, slowly unbuttoned his coat, let his hands flop into his lap and then said:
-Yes, I did, I murdered my wife Mr Sloane.
They both sat silent for a few seconds. - Why? Mr Griffith, why did you murder your wife, I am perplexed because according to many of the people we have interviewed in regards to this case, you are a good and diligent man, Sloane asked.
- Surely Mr Sloane, in your line of work you must have come across other good men, or women, doing bad things? Don't we all have the potential to do bad things regardless of how good we are? Do we not all have breaking points? Times when we just snap? Well, Mr Sloane, I snapped.
My wife, with her constant criticizing and belittling of me, making fun of my passion for books, never showing any affection or softness, and speaking to me as if I was unworthy of any civility or compassion, finally, after 30 years of marriage, her behaviour got the better of me.
- Even so Mr Griffith, you stabbed your wife nine times and left her on the side of the road like a common piece of trash, Sloane said and could feel anger rising inside of him.
-Yes, Mr Sloane, I did, because after having stabbed her all I could think of was that I would finally have peace. All my life I have tried to be a good person, to do right by everyone, to be decent and hard working, and treat my wife with respect. And now, I have undone that.
I do realize that I could have left her, divorced her, talked to her and told her how I felt.
-Why didn't you, Mr Griffith?
-Perhaps deep down I felt she deserved it after all the pain and suffering she put me through.
Once the thought that I deserved better took a hold of me, I guess the "good" part of me got pushed aside and I began to find justifiable reasons, well, in my view, for why she needed to be gone.
-Perhaps deep down I felt she deserved it after all the pain and suffering she put me through.
Once the thought that I deserved better took a hold of me, I guess the "good" part of me got pushed aside and I began to find justifiable reasons, well, in my view, for why she needed to be gone.
- Well, Mr Griffith, there is not much I can say to you now other than this: Mr Griffith, I am arresting you for the murder of your wife.
- Officer Perkins, please handcuff Mr Griffith and take him to a cell.
After Mr Griffith had been lead away, Sloane found himself lost in thought:
-Everyday, we choose. If we are smart we choose actions, thoughts, words, behaviours that will have the outcomes we prefer and that are in congruence with our moral and ethical codes. But I guess Mr Griffith was right in saying that no matter how good we may be, we all have the potential to do bad things at times. On the other hand, perhaps it works the other way too?
- Hey Sloane, daydreaming again?
- Oh, Perkins, sorry, lost in thought again.
Sloane looked at Perkins and thought to himself: Bad turning good? Perkins is the very epitome of it. Kid had a rough start and now look at him....
- Coming Perkins, wait up.
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The words bad and good, especially connected to what kind person a person is, is highly contentious
in my view, so let me clarify my definition connected to this particular story: good, as in someone who considers others needs and comfort as much as their own. Bad, as in someone who does not consider others needs and comfort.
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