Lead Homicide Detective Peter Johnson from the Bar Harbor Police Department’s homicide unit in Maine had just arrived at the office and sat down at his desk when his partner, Detective Vincent Garcia, stepped in.
“Morning, Peter. We have a new murder case.”
Peter took a sip of his coffee and said, “Good morning to you too, and can I finish my coffee first, please? I’m not even awake yet.”
“You can drink your coffee while I fill you in. I expect the chief to call you any moment now. So you’d better listen up.”
Peter said, “Okay, shoot,” and took a sip of his coffee.
“Yesterday, at 5:12 p.m., we received an emergency call from Ms. Robertson, who reported that she had found her husband motionless in a puddle of blood on the floor of the garage. Police and emergency medical services rushed to the scene and found Dr. Robertson unresponsive on the floor. He was pronounced dead at the scene.”
“Hmm … Dr. Robertson? Isn’t that a geneticist or something from that big research company?”
“Not just a geneticist. He is the leading geneticist in his field. That’s why I expect a call from the chief to you. Dr. Robertson’s company will demand answers.”
Peter nodded in agreement and said, “Go on then.”
“So, officers at the scene searched the premises for the shooter, and they found a man sitting calmly on a chair in the garden with a gun lying in front of him on the table. They arrested him, and he didn’t resist.”
“Bullets?”
“Yes, they found two 9 mm bullets, consistent with the weapon which the man had in front of him, a Glock G17 30th generation, 9 mm. Ballistics is still analyzing the evidence, but I expect they will confirm that the bullets were fired from that same weapon.”
“Sounds like an open-and-shut case. So what is the fuss about?”
“It’s the suspect.”
“So, what about him?”
“It’s Dr. Robertson.”
Peter choked on his coffee and said irritably, “Is this some sort of bad joke, Vincent?”
“No, and I am dead serious. The suspect is being brought here for questioning and he could arrive any minute.”
“Let me guess. He has a twin brother?”
“That was my first thought as well, but no. We took the victim’s fingerprints and a blood sample, and we took the suspect’s fingerprints and a cheek swab. And the fingerprints match, and DNA profiles are identical.”
“So they aren’t identical twins. Are you telling me we have a clone?”
“At least one of them is.”
“And you know who is who?”
“No. Right now I haven’t got the faintest idea whether the victim or the suspect is the clone.”
“Good grief,” Peter said and shook his head.
Peter’s mobile rang and he took the call.
“Good morning, Chief … yes … yes, Vincent was just briefing me … no … no idea yet … of course we’ll keep it quiet … as soon as we know more.”
After he hung up he looked at Vincent and said, “You got that, right?”
Vincent nodded.
“I want to talk to that guy!”
Ten minutes later a police officer walked in and said, “He is in interrogation room 2.”
Peter and Vincent stood up and walked toward interrogation room 2. When they entered, they saw Dr. Robertson sitting calmly at the table. Peter and Vincent sat down in the chairs opposite him.
“Dr. Robertson?”
“Yes, I am. Paul … Paul Robertson.”
“So, Paul, tell us what happened yesterday.”
“I brought a clone home from my laboratory. As you have found out by now, it is a clone of myself. For the past few months we’ve been training him using my memories and knowledge, and we wanted to find out if my wife would notice the difference. But when we arrived in the garage, the clone wanted to leave and began arguing that he wanted to go out into the world, and became agitated. Because I was taking the clone out of the lab, the company had insisted that I carry my gun. ‘As a safety precaution,’ they’d said. In hindsight, that turned out to be a good call, as the clone became increasingly aggressive and began to threaten me. I warned him a few times and told him to calm down, but he didn’t listen. When he approached me aggressively, I shot him. And that’s basically it, officers. And as you probably know from the report, I calmly waited for your colleagues to arrive.”
“So … um … you are saying that … ” said Vincent hesitantly.
Dr. Robertson interrupted calmly and said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, “That I shot the clone. A clone that is the property of GenTech Industries.”
Peter and Vincent exchanged puzzled glances for a moment, then turned back to Dr. Robertson, who seemed ready to stand.
“If you have no further questions, detectives, I would like to leave. And please release the body of the clone as soon as possible, so my laboratory can pick it up.”
Peter thought for a moment and then said, “If I may ask, Dr. Robertson, how do I know you’re Dr. Robertson?”
“Excuse me?”
“How can I determine whether you are indeed Dr. Robertson, and not the clone?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself, Detective, do you?”
“I wasn’t planning to, sir, but at this moment I have two people with the same fingerprints and DNA profile, and one of them is dead.”
“I see your point. Well … ask me any question you like!”
“I’ll come back to that later. And I am sorry, but for now, I have to ask you to be patient and wait while we conduct further investigations into this … well, um … incident.”
A moment later, the door opened, two officers walked in and escorted Dr. Robertson back to his cell.
Peter and Vincent didn’t bother to stand up.
“What in God’s name are we dealing with here?” asked Peter.
“I am not sure either. If the suspect is indeed Dr. Robertson, and he shot his own clone, then technically it was not a homicide because the victim was not a human. And if the suspect is the clone, then technically it isn’t a homicide either because it is an accident if a person gets killed by anything other than another person, such as an animal or a machine. In both scenarios, I’’s not a homicide. But at the same time, I don’t like the idea of either a deranged geneticist or a rogue clone walking around free.”
Peter nodded in agreement and said, “My thoughts exactly. Although I prefer a deranged geneticist over a rogue clone. So how do we find out whether he’s the original or the clone?”
Vincent shook his head and shrugged.
“To be honest, I don’t know. And that is a scary thought.”
Half an hour later, Peter received a phone call from the chief instructing him to release Dr. Robertson immediately.
The next morning, Peter and Vincent visited Dr. Robertson’s house and rang the doorbell. Dr. Robertson opened the door and asked, “Good morning, officers. Why are you here?”
“I am sorry, but we need your formal authorization to release the clone.”
“Come on in and walk with me to the kitchen. We were just having breakfast.”
They entered and saw Mrs. Robertson sitting at the breakfast table. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she had a mischievous grin from ear to ear, with a wild look in her eyes.
“Rough night, Mrs. Robertson?” Peter asked her.
She looked at him and gave him a Mona Lisa smile.
Dr. Robertson handed the tablet with the signed release forms back to Peter.
“Anything else, detectives?”
“No, thank you. Have a good day.”
Dr. Robertson escorted Peter and Vincent out.
Back in the vehicle, Peter said, “Can you believe it? He was the clone!”
“Do you want to report it?”
“Nah, just let it be. They’re both happy.”
