Chapter 4 - THE INTERROGATION
The police precinct was a buzzing hive of activity when Laura arrived. Through the two-way mirror of Interrogation Room B, she watched Michael Bennett. He sat perfectly still, his hands cuffed to the table, looking more like an executive waiting for a board meeting than a suspect facing a life sentence.
Laura stepped into the room, slamming a thick manila folder onto the metal table. She didn't sit down. She wanted the psychological advantage of height.
"Let’s skip the pleasantries, Michael," Laura said coldly. "We have the recording from the tablet. We have the voice-print analysis. We have Sophie Vance in the next room. Your little retirement plan with my sister’s life insurance policy is over."
Michael didn't flinch. Instead, he let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Laura, you’ve always been overzealous. That audio? It’s a snippet of a creative writing project Sophie and I were collaborating on for a corporate podcast. It’s completely out of context."
"A creative writing project that perfectly details Rachel's medical history, her emotional struggles, and a two-million-dollar life insurance policy payout?" Laura leaned in, her face inches from his. "You altered her policy three months ago, forged her signature to remove the dual-consent clause for payout acceleration in the event of accidental death. We already have the digital audit trail from your home IP address."
For the first time, a flicker of irritation crossed Michael’s eyes, but he quickly masked it. "A good lawyer will tear that circumstantial nonsense apart in front of a jury. Rachel was depressed. Everyone knows it. If something happens to her, it’s a tragedy, not a crime."
"Nothing is going to happen to her," Laura growled. "Because you're going to rot in a cell."
Meanwhile, in Interrogation Room C, the pressure was yielding different results. Sophie Vance was unraveling. Unlike Michael, she wasn't a sociopath; she was a greedy opportunist who had gotten in too deep.
Detective Miller sat across from her, playing the audio file on a loop. “Once Rachel is gone, we start over. With you. Me. And the baby.”
"I didn't know he was actually going to do it!" Sophie sobbed, her manicured nails digging into her palms. "Michael told me Rachel was chronically ill! He said she wanted to end her life and that he was just... he was just helping her secure the money for the kids!"
"Don't lie to me, Sophie," Miller said, slamming her hand on the table. "You asked about the insurance. You asked what would happen if Rachel noticed something. You knew exactly what the plan was. If you don't cooperate right now, you’re looking at twenty-five years to life as a co-conspirator to first-degree murder."
Sophie collapsed forward, her tears smudging her expensive makeup. "It was the medication," she gasped. "Michael works with a pharmaceutical supplier for his risk-analysis firm. He managed to get a compound—an undetectable synthetic beta-blocker. He was going to mix it into her postpartum vitamin regimen once she came home. It would cause a sudden, massive cardiac arrest that looked like an amniotic fluid embolism. The doctors wouldn't even question it because of her high blood pressure during labor."
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Behind the two-way mirror, Laura felt a chill run down her spine. The level of planning was monstrous. If Emma hadn't pressed record, Rachel would have been dead within forty-eight hours of leaving the hospital.
Laura immediately pulled out her phone and dialed the hospital guard. "This is Detective Bennett. I need a full lockdown on Rachel’s room. Search every item Michael brought into that hospital. Look for a bottle of prenatal or postpartum vitamins. Do it now!"
