Chapter 172: On His Way (1/2)
”You think too lowly of what I am capable of. I have a secretary and a team of representatives who will stop the news,” he said quietly. ”Just because you are accusing me and wrongfully arresting me, it doesn't mean that I will let the word spread across the nation,” he huffed.
”Yes, we know that you are capable of cleaning up other crime scenes to protect high-profile people. Wasn't that why you got suspended all those years ago?” Nash prompted. ”When was this around again?” Nash turned to ask me.
”Around the time Lee Yunxi was murdered,” I said confidently. I had to cluck my tongue. ”The media likes to hunt down news. Even if your team stops people here from speaking, the prosecutor's office might not feel the same way,” I told him. ”I wonder how your wife will feel.”
”My wife trusts me,” he breathed. He raised his brow at me confidently.
”Of course, your wife might not have known, but after we show her all the evidence, she won't think otherwise. She'll come running to meet you, too,” Nash said. ”It's going to be time for her to send lunch, won't it? Your driver will find out before the media will.”
Nash, this cunning man, he was toying with Billy like nobody's business. His gloves were off, he was going straight in for the throat. We had all the evidence we needed, we just needed to take control of the situation.
”It's a shame, though. I think you would want to meet your son the most at this moment,” I prompted. Billy's head snapped up in my direction.
”You—” he started. ”Bastard, what do you want from me?” he asked, his voice a hiss.
”I want justice. I want to know the number of people you killed. How about you start with that?” I folded my hands on the desk and leaned in.
The door opened and I saw an officer peering in hesitantly.
I knew that the lawyer was already in the station. Billy took a sigh of relief.
”Let him in,” Nash pronounced, not in the least bit challenged by the change in event.
He didn't speak to us, so we would have to appeal to the better judgment of the lawyer.
But it wasn't one lawyer who entered. It was three. I looked at the entourage and tried to hide a smile. Powerful people really had connections. Even though Collins was on probation, they still found a number of star-studded attorneys to defend him and get him out of jail.
We had to pull out some chairs to let them sit.
The lawyer huffed and looked around the room. ”Is this conversation being recorded?” the man with the peppered hair asked.
”Of course. As per procedure. Your client has been read the Miranda Rights and allowed the chance to get a lawyer.” Nash waved the signed paper in front of him. ”Here is the documentation of the same.”
The lawyer took it in his hand and read over the paper before briefly nodding.
”Mr. Phillips, have they asked you any leading questions?” he asked.
”I didn't answer,” he gruffly said. The lawyers sighed in relief.
”I assume he is a suspect for a murder? It happened a decade ago?” he said.
”Correct. It's not a single murder, though. It's a serial killing case that we suspect him off,” I acknowledged. The lawyers gave out a collective gasp.
”What sort of slander is this?” The main lawyer asked.
”It's not slander if we don't tell anyone about this. Except for a core group of three people, no one knows what we are working on,” Nash said calmly.
”And who are these three people?” The supervising lawyer asked, looking at the two of us.
”This is our consultant, Dr. Butler who was assigned the cold case and was working on solving it. I am Detective Nash, Head of Behavioral Studies, and a crime analyst by the name of Chase Frank who went through all the evidence are the only people involved,” Nash informed him.
The lawyer nodded. ”Thank you for taking care of the privacy of my client. Might I ask the evidence you have?” he pondered.
”We are not here to show you the evidence we have. You can see them during the court proceeding,” I gave the lawyer a scathing look. They really thought they could drag us along with their words.
”At least let us know if it is conclusive evidence!” One of them claimed.
”We received a floppy disk with all the information,” I smiled.
”Who sent it?” The lawyer asked, startled.
”Your client. He tried to be stealthy and sent us a package because someone else took his name and sent over the ID of a victim,” Nash informed.
”And that is your evidence? Fabricated evidence in a floppy disk?” the lawyer scoffed.
”You must think we have been eating grass all these years. We found pictures that your client took of the victims. One of the pictures has his feet in frame, too. Add in pictures he took at his house of the other evidence.”
The lawyer choked and looked at the man.
”Mr. Phillips, you might not have known but forensic science and the art of evidence analysis have come a long way since you were in an investigative mode. Even if you delete all the files on a computer or a memory storage system, we have the equipment to retrieve all of them. The floppy disk is also in his name and definitely one taken from the collection in his office. We matched with the equipment records.” I gave all the people in the room a keen look.