Chapter 10 - The Interrogation Room
Deep within the subterranean holding facility at Fort Lee, Virginia, Bradley Sterling sat shivering in a windowless concrete interrogation cell. His five-thousand-dollar Italian wool suit had been confiscated and replaced with a coarse, standard-issue orange jumpsuit that chafed against his skin.
He had spent fourteen hours in total isolation, denied access to his private cell phone, his manicured hair disheveled and his designer leather shoes replaced with rubber shower slides. Every time he demanded a lawyer, the armed military guard outside the reinforced steel slot responded with the same robotic phrase: You are held under Title 10 Special Operational Authority.
The heavy steel door swung open, and Special Agent Marcus Vance Jr. stepped inside, carrying a thick steel briefcase and a digital audio recorder. He sat across from Bradley, methodically laying out high-resolution color photographs across the metal table.
"You recognized this woman, don't you, Bradley?" the agent asked, tapping a photo of a stunning brunette smiling on a sailboat. "Rachel Holloway. Your fiancée before you met Eleanor."
Bradley swallowed hard, his eyes darting frantically toward the corners of the ceiling. "Rachel died in an unfortunate boating accident. The state coroner cleared me of all liability. That case is closed."
"The case was closed because your uncle paid the coroner half a million dollars, and your mother provided the thallium sedative that paralyzed Rachel's lungs before you pushed her off the deck," the agent said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "We exhumed her body from Oakwood Cemetery twelve hours ago. The toxicological analysis confirmed lethal concentrations of thallium in her bone marrow."
Bradley’s breath hitched, a bead of cold sweat dripping from the tip of his nose onto the metal table. "That... that wasn't me! That was Mother! Mother said Rachel was asking too many questions about the offshore trusts! Mother planned the entire thing!"
The agent smiled thinly, leaning forward until his shadow completely enveloped Bradley’s shaking frame. "And who slipped the compounded thallium into Eleanor’s prenatal vitamins every morning for the past four months, Bradley? Was that Mother, too?"
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Bradley broke, his head slamming onto his crossed arms as he sobbed uncontrollably, the pathetic arrogance of a spoiled predator completely evaporating under the weight of undeniable scientific proof. "I just wanted the trust money... Mother said if Eleanor gave birth to an heir, the Montgomery estate would audit our accounts... I never wanted anyone to die!"
The agent clicked the stop button on the digital recorder, his eyes cold as glacial ice. "Thank you for the voluntary confession, Mr. Sterling. That secures your seat in the federal penitentiary for the next three consecutive life sentences."
