Chapter 8 - The Interrogation Confession
Inside Interrogation Room B at the Cook County Sheriff's Headquarters, the air was sterile and cold.
Mauro sat at the stainless-steel table wearing an orange detention jumpsuit. His hands were cuffed to an iron ring bolted to the floorboards. Sitting across from him were Detective Marcus Miller and State Prosecutor Sarah Jenkins.
Behind the two-way glass mirror in the observation booth sat Veronica Saldana and myself.
Prosecutor Jenkins laid three thick black binders flat on the metal table in front of Mauro.
“Mr. Vance,” Prosecutor Jenkins began, her voice flat, clinical, and devoid of mercy. “Your mother, Patricia, is currently sitting in Interrogation Room C. She has already offered a full audio-recorded statement in exchange for a secondary plea bargain.”
Mauro’s breath hitched in his throat. His face went ghost-white. “What...? What did she say?!”
“She stated under oath that the plan to poison Rebecca with Scopolamine was entirely your idea,” Prosecutor Jenkins revealed, opening a transcript folder. “She claimed you brought the vials home, mixed the tea every night, and that she merely accepted the wire transfers because she believed the money was your legitimate earnings.”
Inside the observation room, I watched Mauro’s posture completely collapse.
The parasitic coward who had spent years boasting about loyalty and 'family first' didn't hesitate for a single second when cornered.
“She’s lying!” Mauro roared, leaning forward as far as his chains would allow, beating his cuffed hands against the table. “That manipulative old bitch planned everything! She’s the one who wanted the house! She told me if I didn't get control of Rebecca’s patents, she’d tell my investors that my company was broke! She bought the chemicals! She gave me the dark-web contact!”
Prosecutor Jenkins offered a cold, sharp smile.
“Thank you, Mr. Vance,” Jenkins said smoothly. “We have that statement on tape as well. Both of you just convicted each other of First-Degree Premeditated Murder Conspiracy.”
Mauro froze. His jaw hung open, his eyes bulging in sheer, unadulterated terror as he realized he had walked straight into a legal trap.
“The State of Illinois is filing twenty-four felony counts against both of you,” Prosecutor Jenkins announced, standing up from her chair. “Given the physical toxicology evidence, the wire transfers, and your mutual confessions, you are facing a statutory sentence of life in prison without the possibility of parole.”
Mauro collapsed forward onto the table, letting out an agonizing, broken sob that echoed off the cold concrete walls.
May you like
I turned away from the two-way mirror, pulled my dark wool coat around my shoulders, and walked out of the police station into the crisp, clean night air.
---
