Insert Chassis Albuquerque: The Butterfly Effect - Chapter 13: "Trouble"

The Butterfly Effect - Chapter 13: "Trouble"

She appeared at the window above him now.
The lock on the door had been changed and Wolffe couldn't get in; drunk, Wolffe can make no sense of it.
“You! Big detective, you find new place to live!” she cried down at him.
When she appeared downstairs, his hold-hall in her hands, she yelled (she was never able to modulate her voice and always yelled, it was like that saying: “You ever see two Polish people whispering? Impossible!”): “Wolffe! What ‘wong with you! Why you here, huh?”
“Don't ask for the details, I almost goddamn died today, just let me in for Christ’s sake!”
She said almost happily: “You almost die…? I check life insurance, big money for me…!”
With this in mind, worth noting she’d taken out a fairly substantial life insurance policy on him.
And placed a side bet with a bookie the year and month he’d die ‘cause she liked to gamble. Not motivation enough for his murder, just a listless hopefulness she’d somehow profit from his death - she wasn’t a murderer, just practical and good with money, so with some to spare, why not?
Things deteriorated.
“You come for this…? Now you no have…!” she cried at Wolffe, throwing the hold-hall at his feet.
Wolffe didn’t react. There was no point, women didn’t react to reactions - you know why? Could be any reason, couldn’t it? Does there have to even be a reason?
No.
She squirted lighter-fluid over the hold-hall and set it alight.
“I can see by the way you're burning my clothes and other important documents - passport, old case-files and so on - I asked you never to touch, that, whilst not helpful, you're upset!” Wolffe said.
All this carousing had drawn the attention of the neighbor's and they were into it pretty deep by the time the fire brigade - followed by the police - arrived. The cops - who knew Wolffe - knew Wolffe was drunk, but not stupid. However, Wolffe’s wife claimed he’d broken in and tried set her alight when she wouldn’t give him the hold-hall and he had all those marks on his face and hands after the struggle with the bartender earlier (he’d be no witness to help Wolffe and wanted to get back with his wife because she was “dependable” and “good in the sack”).
“There was struggle, he very violent man, try barbecue my ass…!” Wolffe’s wife was shouting.
“We gonna have to book you, Wolffe. Sorry man, if we could we’d book her,” the cops said.
Wolffe nodded.
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To be honest Wolffe really wasn’t too bothered. You know, it was the hypocrisy of having to be a man and then pretending to care or give a shit? Do you know? Maybe you don’t. Anyhow, there’d definitely be a court appearance…


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