Chapter 7 - The Interrogation
"David is a desperate man saying desperate things to avoid prison," I told the detective calmly.
"He claims he has security footage proving you negotiated with Victor Valenti," Miller pressed.
"I would absolutely love to see a coward try to prove a conversation that never officially happened," I replied.
I thanked the detective for his time and gently placed the receiver back on the hook.
I had known the diamond necklace was a cheap fake for over fifteen years.
Richard had sold the real diamonds long ago to keep his business afloat, leaving the replica in the vault as a decoy.
David had ruined his entire life and caught a federal charge over pieces of polished glass.
The next morning, I dressed in a tailored black suit and ordered a private car to take me to the police precinct.
I walked into the bustling station with my head held high, looking every bit the dignified lady David had mocked.
Detective Miller met me in the lobby and escorted me to a private viewing room behind a two-way mirror.
On the other side of the glass, Daniela sat trembling in a cold, metal interrogation chair.
Her hair was a messy tangle, and her face was stained with ruined makeup and exhaustion.
She had been picked up by patrol officers wandering aimlessly near a bus station at dawn.
"She has been crying for hours, blaming her husband for everything," Miller observed quietly.
"Of course she is, she has never taken accountability for a single mistake in her life," I said coldly.
An interrogating officer walked into the room and slapped a thick folder onto the metal table in front of Daniela.
"Your husband just took a plea deal, Mrs. Mercer," the officer announced firmly.
Daniela looked up, her eyes wide with frantic, desperate hope.
"He told the truth?" she croaked. "He told you that he forced me to sign those papers?"
The officer shook his head and pulled a signed document from the folder.
"No, he claimed that the forgery, the mob connections, and the fake diamonds were entirely your master plan," the officer said.
Daniela let out a horrific, guttural scream of absolute betrayal.
She slammed her fists against the metal table, sobbing uncontrollably as the reality of her husband's treachery set in.
"He is lying! He owed money to bookies, he made me do it!" she shrieked hysterically.
I watched her suffer through the glass, feeling completely numb to her agonizing tears.
The officer leaned forward and tapped his pen against the table.
"Unless you have concrete proof that he coerced you, you are facing twenty years for federal wire fraud and forgery," he stated.
Daniela buried her face in her hands, completely shattered and entirely alone.
I turned to Detective Miller and handed him a small, black USB drive.
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"What is this, Eleanor?" he asked, looking at the drive suspiciously.
"This is the high-definition audio and video recording from my front porch security camera from yesterday evening," I explained softly.
