Chapter 9 - The Confession Room
The sterile fluorescent lights of the county police station hummed overhead, casting a harsh, unforgiving glare across the small metal table in Interview Room B. Arthur sat calmly in the metal chair, his suit jacket neatly buttoned, his hands folded resting on the tabletop. He didn't look like a terrified criminal; he looked like a man who had finally finished playing a very long, exhausting game of chess.
Officer Vance pulled out the metal chair opposite Arthur and sat down heavily, dropping a thick manila folder onto the metal surface with a sharp slap.
"Well, Arthur, the game is up," Vance said, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. "We searched the attic crawlspace. We found Clara and Elena's mother alive, locked away without food or water for nearly a week. And forensics is already running dental records on the body in that casket. It’s not her."
Arthur slowly raised his head, offering a tired, melancholy smile. He didn't flinch. He didn't ask for a lawyer.
"I figured you'd find her eventually," Arthur said, his voice remarkably steady. "I left the attic latch unbolted just enough for her to knock if she got too weak. I didn't want her to die up there, Vance. I just needed enough time to clear out the accounts."
Vance narrowed his eyes, staring hard across the table. "Time for what? To steal a few hundred thousand dollars in life insurance? You already had control of the estate."
"It wasn't about the money," Arthur replied softly, shifting slightly in his chair. He reached into his breast pocket and slowly pulled out a small, faded black-and-white photograph, placing it face-up on the metal table.
Vance glanced down at the photo. It showed a younger Arthur standing beside a stern-looking man in a mechanic's jumpsuit—Edward Miller, Clara’s biological father, who had vanished thirty years ago.
"Edward didn't disappear on his own accord back in 1994, did he?" Vance asked, his voice dropping an octave.
Arthur shook his head slowly, a deep shadow passing over his face. "No. He found out what your beloved town council was doing with the zoning permits for the lake district. He was going to expose the whole lot of us—including the mayor, the chief of police, and my late business partner."
Vance’s expression hardened instantly. He reached out and tapped the photograph with his index finger. "Are you saying Edward Miller was murdered by the town leadership, and you helped cover it up?"
"I'm saying I was the one who buried him," Arthur confessed, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "And Clara has been hunting for his remains for thirty years. But she’s looking in the wrong place."
Before Vance could press further, the heavy metal door of the interview room banged open.
Clara stood in the doorway, her yellow sparkly dress still stained with dust and blood, her eyes blazing with absolute fury. Behind her stood two backup officers trying unsuccessfully to hold her back.
May you like
"Where is he?!" Clara screamed, lunging across the table and grabbing Arthur by the lapels of his suit jacket. "Where did you put my father’s body, you bastard?!"
---
