“Those men saw that someone touched the safe,” I said. “They will tell James.”
“Excellent.”
I looked at her as if she were crazy.
“What do you mean, excellent?”
“Now he will know you are alive. He will know you have the proof. He will panic.”
She smiled while driving.
“And people in panic do stupid things.”
I do not know if I agreed with her logic, but I was too exhausted to argue.
Back at the office, we emptied the backpack on the desk. Documents, cell phones, money, the black notebook. Catherine took the notebook first. She opened it. She started reading. And the more she read, the wider her smile became.
“Bingo,” she murmured.
“What is it?”
“Your husband was meticulous… or he was dumb. Probably both.”
She turned the notebook toward me.
“Look at this. Dates, amounts, names. He documented every cent he borrowed, from whom, and when he had to pay. He even has notes about conversations with the lenders.”
I scanned the pages. Everything was there. Every debt. Every threat he received. And then, on the last pages:
“Final solution.”
I read aloud:
“Sarah’s life insurance, $2 million. The accident has to look natural. Contact Mark. Fee $50,000, half upfront. Date: November 21st.”
It was today. Or rather, it was yesterday.
“He wrote everything down,” I whispered in disbelief. “Why would anyone do that?”
“Insurance,” explained Catherine. “If something went wrong, he could use this as leverage against the guys he hired. Prove that they were also involved.”
She took one of the cell phones.
“And I bet that in these cell phones, there is even more evidence. Conversations. Calls.”
It took all night to examine everything. The cell phones were password protected, but Catherine had a contact who managed to unlock them. And everything was there. Messages between James and Mark.
“It needs to be a day I am traveling. Solid alibi.”
“It has to look accidental. Fire is good. Hard to trace.”
“And the kid?” Mark had asked.
“Also. No one can be left.”
Also. James had written coldly about killing our son, as if he were a minor detail, an inconvenience to solve. I felt the hate grow inside me, a cold hate, sharp. I was no longer the woman who had married believing she had found love. I was a mother protecting her son. And mothers are dangerous when their children are threatened.
“Is this enough to arrest him?” I asked.
“Enough to arrest, convict, and throw away the key,” confirmed Catherine. “But we need to do it right. If we hand this to the wrong police, James has enough money and connections to make it disappear. Or worse, to make you guys disappear.”
“So what do we do?”
She thought for a moment.
“I know a detective. Honest, incorruptible. From the homicide division. If we present the case to him with all this proof, James has nowhere to run.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning. But before that…”
She looked at her cell phone.
“Your husband has already tried to call you seven times in the last hour and sent you fifteen messages.”
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