Chapter 9 - The Arrest Warrant
By two in the morning, I was sitting across from Detective Miller in his cramped precinct office at Chicago Police Headquarters.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Miller reviewed the contents of the manila envelope and listened to the digital voice recorder I had retrieved from the bank.
When the audio recording ended, Miller set his pen down on the desk, leaned back in his leather chair, and let out a long, heavy sigh.
“Well,” Miller said quietly, rubbing his tired eyes.
“That’s not just kidnapping and grand larceny anymore.
That’s premeditated first-degree murder, aggravated poisoning, and conspiracy to commit fraud.”
“Can we get an immediate warrant for her transfer from local lockup to county maximum security?” I asked, leaning forward across the desk, my knuckles white.
“And what about Margaret Bell?”
“Margaret is already singing like a canary in interrogation room B,” Miller replied, tossing a printed transcript onto the desk.
“The moment we played her the wire-transfer records from your wife’s trust account, she folded.
She admitted that Claire threatened to frame her for embezzlement if she didn't keep your daughters locked in that attic.
Margaret claims she didn't know about the poisoning, but she knew about the abduction and the forged postcards.”
Miller stood up, buttoning his trench coat.
“The state’s attorney is already awake.
We are filing the formal murder charges at seven AM.
Claire Davies is never seeing daylight again, Daniel.”
I stood up slowly, feeling the immense weight of the last six months shifting off my shoulders, leaving behind a cold, hardened determination.
“I want to see her,” I said.
Miller stopped at the door, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you sure about that, Daniel? She’s a manipulative sociopath.
She’ll try to twist your mind even now.”
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“She won't twist anything,” I replied, my voice chillingly calm.
“I just want to give her something from Laura.”
