Chapter 7 - The Interrogation Room
The observation room at the Major Crimes Division was dimly lit, smelling of burnt coffee and industrial disinfectant. Through the one-way glass, Andrew sat at a metal table, his hands cuffed to an anchor ring in the center. His expensive sweater was rumpled, his hair greasy with sweat, his eyes darting frantically toward the door every time a chair scraped in the hallway.
Detective Miller entered, carrying a thick manila folder, and dropped it onto the table with a heavy thud.
Andrew jumped. "Detective, please. I've been here for three hours. Where is my mother? Where is my attorney?"
"Your mother is currently being processed down in holding," Miller said, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him. "As for your attorney, Harold Vance recused himself twenty minutes ago after reviewing the preliminary wiretap and the recorded statement your mother gave in your wife's study."
Andrew's jaw dropped. "What statement?"
Miller opened the folder, spreading out several glossy 8x10 photographs.
The first photograph was a high-resolution still from a municipal traffic camera at Maple and Fourteenth, timestamped 4:14:22 p.m. It showed Andrew's silver Honda CR-V idling at the curb.
The second photograph was zoomed in on the driver's side. Andrew’s face was clearly visible through the glass, his mouth open in a furious shout, a phone pressed to his ear.
The third photograph was the kill shot: Andrew standing on the sidewalk, his two hands planted firmly between the shoulder blades of a little girl wearing a blue backpack, violently shoving her into the road as the grille of a white delivery van came into the frame.
Andrew stared at the photos. The blood drained from his face until he looked like a corpse. His breathing became ragged, his chest heaving as if he were suffocating.
"We pulled the cell tower data, Andrew," Miller said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "At 4:14:18, you received a call from an offshore number registered to a sportsbook in Nassau. They told you your margin call had expired. Thirty seconds later, you pushed your stepdaughter into the street. And forty seconds after that, you called your mother."
"I... I didn't mean to," Andrew sobbed, tears and snot running down his face as he pulled against the handcuffs. "She wouldn't hurry! She dropped her ribbon! I just wanted her to get in the car so we could go to the bank! I lost my temper! It was an accident! I swear to God it was an accident!"
"An accident?" Miller leaned forward, tapping the next document in the folder. "Then why did you take out a five-hundred-thousand-dollar accidental death policy on her four months ago? Why did you forge your wife's name? Why did your mother have a forged warranty deed transferring the house to her trust stamped before the accident even occurred?"
Andrew buried his face in his cuffed hands, his shoulders shaking with violent, ugly sobs. "It was Mom's idea. All of it. She said we were going to lose the condo. She said the bookies would come to her club. She told me... she told me if Katie was gone, Amanda would be too broken to fight us on the house. She said Amanda would sign anything if she was grieving."
Behind the glass, I closed my eyes.
A tear escaped down my cheek, hot and stinging, but inside me, the last remaining trace of warmth for this man died completely. He had calculated my grief. He had planned to use the murder of my child to break my spirit so completely that I would hand over my father's home without a whimper.
Miller stood up, looking down at Andrew with pure disgust. "Andrew Cole, you are officially charged with attempted murder in the first degree, aggravated child abuse, insurance fraud, and conspiracy to commit murder. You will be held without bail."
Miller walked out of the room, the heavy steel door slamming shut behind him.
He met me in the corridor, where Sarah was waiting with an armful of legal filings. Miller looked at me, his eyes full of sorrow and respect.
May you like
"We have everything we need, Amanda. The grand jury will indict by Friday. Neither of them is ever getting out."
I nodded, wiping my face clean. "Thank you, Detective. Now, I have to go see my daughter."
