Chapter 9 - The Ghost in the Cell
David Vance struggled to push himself up from the cold concrete floor, his frail limbs shaking like dry twigs under the weight of his skeletal frame. Clara rushed into the cell without hesitation, shrugging off her nurse's cardigan to drape it gently over David’s shivering shoulders.
"Easy, take it slow," Clara instructed softly, kneeling beside him to check his pulse. Her professional instincts took over, masking the horror of the situation. "You're safe now. The police are here. Eleanor has been arrested."
Hearing Eleanor’s name, David flinched violently, a deep, primal terror flashing across his hollow eyes. He gripped Clara’s arm with surprising strength for a man who had clearly endured months of starvation and isolation.
"She's... she's a monster," David whispered hoarsely, his voice raspy from disuse. He looked past Clara, locking eyes with Arthur, who was being wheeled slowly across the threshold by Detective Miller. "Arthur... she didn't just want your money. She wanted the house, the accounts, everything. When I found out she was slowly poisoning your evening tea with a chemical compound, she threw me in here and locked the door."
Arthur reached out, grabbing his brother's cold, bony hand. Tears streamed down Arthur’s cheeks, washing away the stoic facade he had maintained for years. "I thought you abandoned me, David. I thought you took your share of the family trust and left me to deal with my stroke alone."
"She forged my departure letters," David wept, his head dropping into his hands. "She made it look like I sent an email to our lawyers resigning from the board. Every time she brought me a stale crust of bread and a cup of water, she told me that you were already dead—that she had buried you in the garden."
Detective Miller stood quietly in the corner, taking rapid notes in his leather-bound book. He stepped forward, crouching down next to the two brothers. "Mr. Vance, we found the amber Digoxin bottle upstairs. Your brother's daughter, Lily, caught Eleanor trying to poison Arthur's orange juice this morning."
David raised his head, a faint glimmer of hope breaking through his despair. "Lily... she's safe? She didn't drink the juice?"
"No, she stopped it just in time," Arthur assured him, squeezing his brother's hand tighter. "She's a brave little girl. Just like her mother was."
"Speaking of Eleanor," Detective Miller interrupted, standing up as his radio crackled to life with static. He tapped the receiver against his ear, listening intently to the frantic voice of Officer Davis coming through the speaker.
“Detective Miller, you need to get up to the foyer right now! We have an emergency!” Davis shouted over the radio, sirens wailing loudly in the background.
"What happened, Davis?" Miller demanded into his shoulder mic.
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“Eleanor just figned a medical emergency while we were putting her in the cruiser. When Officer Jenkins uncuffed one of her wrists to check her pulse, she slashed him across the face with a hidden razor blade, hijacked the squad car, and she’s heading south down the coastal highway right now!”
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