Free Echoes of My Soul by Robert K. Tanenbaum

line.
    â€œMax Wylie here. What can I do for you, sir?”
    â€œMel—call me Mel . . . ,” he added nervously.
    â€œOkay . . . Mel. Listen, I’m at the office, so I’m afraid my time is limited. . . .”
    Mel hesitated, trying to sort out just how, exactly, he could get to the point. After all, it hadn’t even been a year yet. For half a second, the unspeakable horror of Janice Wylie’s murder flashed through his head. He shuddered at the thought of her last moments alive; and worse, he considered the sight Max Wylie must’ve glimpsed upon entering that bedroom. Mel stared at the ceiling, quickly ruminating over various ways to approach the subject.
    Before he’d chosen his words, Mr. Wylie spoke. “I’m sorry—Mr. . . . what was your name again?”
    â€œMel . . . Mel Glass. I work for the district attorney’s office. You see, I’ve been chatting with Detective John Justy about the case and have some questions, just for purposes of clarification.”
    â€œ ‘Clarification,’ ” Max Wylie continued flatly, “I thought you gentlemen made your arrest. I was under the impression my part in all of this was over.”
    â€œWell—” Mel tried.
    â€œSay, I like the use of the word ‘clarification’ because I think this case needs some.”
    Mel tilted his head, pressing the receiver against his ear. “What do you mean, sir?”
    â€œExactly what I said. For starters, I’m following everything that’s written in the press. And while I understand that the police and DAs aren’t responsible for everything written in the papers, some people in law enforcement are leaking things to the media. According to news reports, the police are speculating that the killer or killers may have placed a blue blanket on the girls with the speculative notion, according to the stories, that these monsters or monster may have thought about carrying the girls down the service stairway.”
    â€œYes,” Mel agreed, “I’ve read that that’s a possibility.”
    â€œWell, that’s my point, Mr. Glass, about ‘clarification.’ ”
    Mel scratched the back of his head. “I’m afraid I’m just not following you, sir.”
    Mel could hear Max Wylie heaving a great, angry sigh on the other end.
    â€œWhat I mean to tell you, Mr. Glass, is that I, Max Wylie, placed the blue blanket on my daughter and Emily, and the reason I did this was because I didn’t know police procedure, and, Lord knows, I didn’t want my wife or Kate Olsen to see the god-awful, frightful condition they were in. You have reviewed the crime scene photos, have you not?”
    Mel held the phone in his left hand with his elbow resting on the top of his desk. He leaned forward. He was stunned. In a case of this magnitude, how could any type of speculation that appeared to be legitimate go on uncorrected? It was simply beyond his comprehension, and he was sure Max Wylie was mistaken. And yet, how could he be? How could a father forget a moment as horrible as that one? Mel stood up and began pacing his office, dragging the base of the phone in his other hand.
    â€œMr. Wylie, forgive me, but you’re saying that you placed the blue blanket on your daughter? That’s correct, is it?”
    Mr. Wylie’s voice rose. “Are you people incapable of getting anything right? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I placed the blue blanket on my dead daughter!”
    Mel ran his index finger over his lips and set the base of the phone back down on his desktop. “My apologies, sir. I just needed to confirm your statement, that’s all.”
    Mel took this investigative blunder seriously, but what he was about to hear next was a complete game changer. There was no mistaking the anger percolating in Max Wylie’s voice. This was a man who was simply broken in half, Mel reasoned. Max was