Chapter 6 - The Interrogation of Chloe

Detective Vance pulled up a secondary chair and sat down opposite me, resting the manila folder on his knees. “He’s currently sitting in an interrogation room at Central Division, having his lawyer scream at our district attorney. Because Marcus is a former prosecutor turned senior defense litigator, he knows every trick in the book. He hasn't uttered a single word since we read him his Miranda rights. He invoked his right to counsel immediately.”
“And the woman?” I asked, my grip tightening on Lily’s sleeping hand. “Chloe?”
Vance let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Chloe is singing like a canary to save her own skin. As soon as we told her she was facing two counts of attempted first-degree murder and conspiracy, she waived her right to an attorney and started talking.”
He opened the folder and pulled out a stack of transcribed notes. “According to her statement, Marcus told her six months ago that you were clinically depressed, abusive toward Lily, and refusing to grant him a divorce. He told her he had hired a private investigator to gather evidence for sole custody, and that you two were flying to Zurich for a corporate conference where he would announce his resignation to move out to her apartment.”
“He bought tickets for Zurich three weeks ago,” I said, my voice steadying. “I saw the confirmation email on his iPad before he deleted it. He told me it was a solo business trip.”
“It gets worse,” Vance said, looking at me with deep, professional sympathy. “We executed an emergency search warrant on his office and his private bank accounts this morning. Three months ago, Marcus took out two secret life insurance policies with a double-indemnity clause for accidental death. One on you for four million dollars. One on Lily for two million. Both policies named him as the sole beneficiary, with an immediate payout trigger if the deaths occurred inside the primary residence.”
The math of our lives was so sterile, so ruthlessly transactional. Six million dollars. That was the price tag Marcus had placed on the woman who had supported him through law school and the daughter who had painted him a macaroni card for Father’s Day.
“Where did he get the aconite?” I asked.
“We found a digital paper trail on an encrypted browser on his work laptop,” Vance explained. “He purchased raw seeds of Aconitum napellus—monkshood—from an unregulated botanical vendor online two months ago, shipping them to a P.O. Box registered under Chloe’s name. We found the crushing mortar, the empty seed packets, and a digital scale hidden in the spare tire compartment of his SUV.”
“So you have enough to put him away,” I said, leaning forward.
Vance sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We have enough to charge him, Sarah. But conviction is another story. Marcus’s defense attorney is already filing emergency motions to suppress the 911 call, claiming you were under the influence of narcotics and framed him to gain leverage in an upcoming divorce. He’s claiming you poisoned the stew because you knew he was leaving you for Chloe, and that he only broke the closet door down to rescue his daughter from a hysterical mother.”
I stared at the detective, a freezing, familiar terror threatening to creep back into my chest. “He wasn't eating the stew, Detective. His bowl was clean.”
“His lawyer is claiming he was on a intermittent fasting diet,” Vance countered grimly. “I’m telling you this not to scare you, but to prepare you. Marcus is wealthy, connected, and ruthless. He is going to try to put you on trial to save his own skin. If we want a first-degree attempted murder conviction that sticks without reasonable doubt, I need you to be the strongest witness the state of Maryland has ever seen.”
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I looked down at Lily’s chest, watching the steady, mechanical rise and fall of her breathing under the hospital gown. I thought about the way Marcus had smiled as he ladled the rich, red sauce over her plate.
“Tell the District Attorney no plea bargains, Detective,” I said, my voice dropping into an absolute, unbreakable register. “I’ll testify. I’ll stand in front of any jury in the country. He wants a war in a courtroom? I’ll give him one.”