Chapter 6 - The Interrogation Room
At 3:30 PM, I sat behind the one-way mirror in Interrogation Room B at the federal building on Dearborn Street.
On the other side of the glass sat Adrian Cole, stripped of his bespoke jacket, his tie removed, his hands handcuffed to the metal table.
Assistant U.S. Attorney Marcus Vance sat across from him, flipping through a two-inch-thick binder of banking records.
"Your offshore accounts in Zurich and the Cayman Islands have been seized under federal forfeiture warrants, Mr. Cole," Vance said flatly.
"We have nineteen separate wire transfers linking your shell companies to a chemical distribution ring operating out of Eastern Europe."
Adrian stared at the steel tabletop, his face haggard, the arrogant smirk completely replaced by the hollow stare of a trapped animal.
"I didn't buy the poison," Adrian muttered, his voice cracking. "It was Vanessa's idea. She found the supplier online."
"You carried the second vial into Margaret Whitmore's home, Adrian," Vance pointed out, tapping a glossy surveillance photograph on the desk.
"You were captured on four separate cameras pouring that vial into her teacup."
Adrian closed his eyes, a shudder running through his shoulders.
"How much time am I looking at?" he whispered.
"Attempted murder of a federal contractor, conspiracy, wire fraud, and interstate transportation of hazardous biological agents," Vance listed with cold precision.
"You are facing life imprisonment without the possibility of parole."
The door to the viewing room opened, and Daniel Reeves stepped in beside me, holding a warm cup of coffee.
"The lab results on the second vial came back, Ethan," Daniel said quietly.
"A lethal dose. If your mother had taken three sips, her pacemaker would have malfunctioned within twenty minutes."
I looked through the glass at Adrian, feeling no anger, no hatred, only a deep, profound sense of gratitude that my father’s teachings had saved my family.
"What about Vanessa?" I asked.
"She’s in Room D," Daniel replied. "She hasn't spoken a word since they booked her. Her public defender told her to prepare for a plea bargain."
I took a slow sip of the coffee, watching the broken man on the other side of the mirror.
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"There will be no plea bargain, Daniel," I said firmly.
"They will face the full weight of the law, down to the very last day."
