Part 5 (1/2)
Could it have been the same person that killed Jackson Mirabelli?
Diana needed to know the answers.
This guy that I've already been searching for, has now come to me. Why did you kill Neil? Did he have some connection to Jackson, Thomas, or any of the others?
”Did your husband know the other victims well?” Slattery asked, while Rothschild checked his phone. He'd been staring into that tiny device most of the interrogation.
I bet Rothschild is going over Facebook updates or probably taking a selfie.
”Mrs. Carson?” Slattery said.
”Yes.”
”Did your husband know any of the other victims?”
”No,” she said. ”I mean as much as anyone on the island knows each other. It's pretty hard not to remember the name of faces that you see day to day, but did Neil actually spend time with any of these men? No. Not even a golf or game day. Neil spent time with women. All of his employees were females. All of his friends were women he'd known for years. The only thing a person with a p.e.n.i.s could do for Neil was either lift something heavy, or point him in the direction of a v.a.g.i.n.a.”
Right at the mention of v.a.g.i.n.a, she shut her mouth.
Perhaps, I'm not okay. Maybe, I'm just a little bit angry at that b.a.s.t.a.r.d.
”Sorry,” she blurted out.
”I understand.” Officer Slattery glanced over at Rothschild who continued to tap things into his phone. ”Okay, so you said you had questions for us.”
”Are you certain that Neil died the same way the other men did?” she asked.
”That's not something I can tell you,” Slattery said.
”My husband and I have not only contributed ma.s.s sums of money to this department, we've also managed to unite with a lot of powerful friends on the island.” Diana didn't like to strong-arm cops, but sometimes moments like these called for it. ”I don't expect you to tell me intricate details of all the murders, but I do want to know if Neil is being considered as one of the victims of this serial killer on the island.”
”Hey,” Captain Rothschild held his hand up, but didn't look away from the phone. ”No one is saying this is a serial killer.”
”He's murdered three men that are similar-rich and white. Clearly, there's someone upset about something and on a mission. This screams serial killer.”
Rothschild targeted her with a piercing gaze. ”This is not a serial killer.” He rose from his seat and headed to the door. ”In fact, our questions are over. Slattery, please finish this and make sure Mrs. Carson is taken care of.”
The fat officer nodded.
Diana waited for Captain Rothschild to leave, and then attacked Slattery with a look that scared most. ”Come on. Tell me something.”
”I. . .can't.”
”You look like you work hard.” She gestured to his wrinkled s.h.i.+rt. ”You spent the night at the station right?”
He nodded.
”All that hard work, and no one cares.” She shook her head. ”Nothing gets done. No one goes to jail, and if they do, they're out within fifteen minutes thanks to their huge law team. You're tired of it. Aren't you? The bulls.h.i.+t. The evil that breeds from money. The crime that gets ignored.”
Slattery formed his lips into a straight line.
”I'm a news reporter.”
”I know who you are,” he said.
”I always have a wealth of information. It's sad to say, but I could get clues and facts from places on this island that you could never even venture into. I have developed a lot of contacts with many people. I could help you with not only this investigation, but future ones. Additionally, I could get your supervisors off your back at times, just by waving around my money.” She smiled at him and offered her hand. ”h.e.l.lo, Officer Slattery. Would you like to be my friend?”
He stared at the hand and didn't shake it. ”I've found that friends on this island tend to change into enemies at the most inopportune times.”
”Then let's call this a friendly probationary period.”
He glanced around as if someone was hiding in the room, and then shook her hand. ”What do you want to know?”
”How similar was my husband's death to the other victims?” she asked.
”Just like the others,” Slattery muttered. ”Hole was the same size, too. Definitely, some sort of hunting arrow. The murderer probably uses a high-tech bow. Something a hunter would use to take down big game.”
Slattery, glanced at Diana briefly. ”We're going to have to keep this quiet. Don't want to alarm the public. We need to find this guy. And fast.”
She s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in the plastic chair, writhing with the desire to be loose. ”Could you get me some copies of the case files for the other murders and any similar ones in the past year?”
Slattery rubbed a worried groove into his chin. ”I don't think that's a good idea or that it will do any good.”
”You don't have any witnesses.”
”This is true.”
”I could get you witnesses.”
Slattery glanced over his shoulder again. ”I. . .I don't want any connection to-”
”Of course not. I would never tell anybody my sources.”
Slattery and Diana talked some more. They did so in whispers and nervous checks of the gla.s.s window where Captain Rothschild paced and watched them. They shared a few details between each other, and then promised to figure out an appropriate time that afternoon to exchange the files.
Thirty minutes later, Diana was excused, and a female officer had her signing paperwork and answering a few more tedious questions about Neil.
She answered like a robot, yet on the inside, determination beat within her heart. Unlike other wives who'd just found out that their husbands were brutally murdered, Diana hoped to drown in this mystery, to investigate the people, places, and things the police so often missed. And what would be better than to look into her own husband's death?
Does he even deserve justice? No, Diana. Stop that. Neil is dead. I can't be mad at him.
Yet, anger and sadness bubbled in her chest. She pushed it all aside, blinked the tears away, and considered all the new facts that she'd heard tonight.
I need to find witnesses. That's what the police have been unable to do. I'll need to find the blonde chick that was seen walking in with Jackson. That will be where I'll start. Then maybe I can talk to Thomas's daughter. He was the man found dead at his daughter's head board while she slept. Why would the killer murder Thomas in his daughter's room?