Next came the bit where they drew information from the scene—like the obvious conclusion that Holly Sandholm didn’t overcome Emily Montgomery by herself, or if she did, she sure as heck didn’t get her tied upside down like that alone—with the ubiquitous distrust criminals have for each other. Add in a guess that a man was involved, justified by both the strength necessary and the statistical fact that most violent crime was committed by men, and the next question was ready to feed the doubt creeping into her mind.
“He told you he wiped everything down, didn’t he?” asked Chen. “But I bet he forgot the toilet.”
Holly’s eyes shot back and forth between the detectives. “I…” But she stopped herself.
“I bet he made sure to wipe down everything he touched,” added McCall. “They always do.”
“Who always do?” Holly furled her brow.
“Well, see,” Chen answered. “In something like this, there’s usually the guy whose idea the whole thing was, and then there’s the other person. The one who has access to the target. The one who can get him in the front door. But once the shit’s gone down, the idea guy makes sure to cover up his tracks, but isn’t so concerned about helping out the other person.”
“That’s not true,” she asserted.
“We found your fingerprint on the note,” McCall shrugged. “So that’s already one place he forgot.”
Holly’s frown deepened. She looked down with wide eyes, clearly trying to decide whether to talk. So Chen hit her again.
“Whose DNA are we going to find under her fingernails, Holly?”
She looked up. “What?”
“DNA,” Chen repeated. “Under her fingernails. They always take fingernail clippings and send them to the crime lab.”
“And there’s always DNA under the fingernails from their attacker,” McCall added. “People always resist. They push and pull, and skin cells get under the fingernails. If she touched you, your DNA is on its way to the crime lab.”
Holly looked at the junior detective.
He made sure she understood. “You’re fucked.”
“There’s a way out, though,” offered Chen.
Holly glared at him, her suspicion clear in her eyes.
“Look, Holly,” Chen leaned onto the table, “we know this wasn’t your idea. We know you never would have done this on your own.”
“It’s called duress,” McCall explained. “And it’s a complete defense. If somebody else makes you do something, you can’t be held responsible for it.”
Holly frowned and her eyebrows knit together. She looked down for a few moments. Then she looked up again. “What if didn’t exactly make me, but he kinda made me feel like I had to?”
“Well, uh, it’s kind of a sliding scale,” Chen stammered.
“Yeah, kinda depends,” McCall added.
Holly’s eyes widened. Her mouth shrank into a tight line.
Oh, for God’s sake, thought Brunelle. He tapped on the mirror.
Chen and McCall turned around. Brunelle tapped again.
“Uh, hold on a sec, Holly.” Chen stood up. “I’ll be right back.”
Chen stepped into the attached observation room. “Oh, Dave. You made it.”
“Yeah, for all the good it’s doing,” Brunelle said. “Sliding scale?”
Chen rubbed the back of neck and grimaced. “Yeah, sorry. Wasn’t ready for her question.”
Brunelle tapped his chin for a moment. “Tell her Washington is a death penalty state.”
Chen frowned. “She’s a juvenile. She can’t get the death penalty.”
“I bet she doesn’t know that,” Brunelle replied. “And anyway, it’s true. It is a death penalty state. But, Christ, Chen. If somebody got her to do that, he must have threatened her with a lot worse than a sliding scale. As long as she thinks what he’ll do to her is worse than what you’ll do to her, she’ll never talk.”
Chen rubbed his chin and frowned. After a moment, he nodded. “Okay, you’re right. Whoever did this to her must be pretty bad news. It’s worth a shot.”
He slapped Brunelle on the shoulder and headed back into the interview room. He pulled out the small chair and slammed himself down onto the table.
“Holly,” he started in his most sincere voice, “that was the prosecutor who’s gonna handle your case. He wanted me to make sure you know Washington is a death penalty state.”
Her jaw dropped almost as far as Brunelle’s. He couldn’t believe he told her the prosecutor was watching.
“We’ve been playing nice up ‘til now,” Chen went on. “But this is kind of it. We have other stuff to do on this case so we can’t sit here all day while you try to decide what to do. I think this other guy forced you into helping him. If that’s right, then you should tell us now, because no one’s going to believe you later if you didn’t take this opportunity to tell us now.”
Holly looked from Chen to McCall. “Is this really a death penalty state?”
“I’m afraid so, Holly,” McCall answered solemnly. He got what Chen was doing. “This may be your last chance.”
Holly set her jaw. Her eyes narrowed. For the first time, she placed her hands on the table and folded them. She was making her decision. Brunelle hoped it was the right one. For them.
She dropped her head into her hands. “It was Arpad.”
“Our pad?” asked Chen. “Whose pad? Where is—?”
“No. Arpad.” Holly looked up again. This time her eyes were red rimmed. She wasn’t crying yet, but almost. “A-R-P-A-D. That’s his name. It’s Hungarian or something. He said he was Hungarian royalty, descended from counts or something.”
Brunelle winced. This wasn’t good.
Chen nodded. “Okay, got it. Arpad. What’s Arpad’s last name?”
Holly hesitated.
“Come on, Holly,” said McCall. “You’ve come this far.”
She nodded. “All right. Karpati. Arpad Karpati.” She spelled it for them.
“Do you know his birthday?” McCall asked as he scribbled the name down on his notepad. “Or at least how old he is.”
“Twenty,” answered Holly. “He’s twenty.”
Brunelle grinned. Now it was a death penalty case.
McCall hurried out of the room to get the suspect information out to the detectives working the case.
“Tell me what Arpad did,” Chen said.
“What he did to her?” Holly asked, as her eyes finally released a tear. “Or what he did to me?”
Chapter 3
Brunelle leaned forward. This might turn out to be more than just a death penalty case. Holly was fifteen. Karpati was twenty. And since they were more than forty eight months apart… but he decided to stop his suppositions, and wait to see what she actually said.
“What did he do to you, Holly?” Chen asked. If he wasn’t sincerely concerned for her, he sure sounded like he was.
“He, well, that is.” She put a hand up to her eyes. “It’s just that. Well, see, he was my boyfriend, and…”
“Understood,” said Chen. “Did he force you to have sex?”
Holly nodded, but couldn’t manage any words.
“Okay, Holly, why don’t we come back to that?” It was interesting and important—and criminal even without force—but if she wasn’t really ready to talk about it, it could end up derailing the entire interrogation. “Let’s talk about Emily. Tell me what Arpad did to the girl.”
Holly nodded. Then she did. The whole story. Brunelle listened intently. Chen and he both wanted the information, but it had very different value to each of them. Everything she told Chen could be used against Karpati to make the case against him and justify his arrest. And everything she told Chen would be completely inadmissible against Karpati at trial because it would be hearsay.
Unless Holly went from defendant to witness. Which meant explaining to those parents why the girl who helped murder their daughter and hang her from the balcony was getting a sweetheart deal to turn State’s evidence and walk awa
y with a slap on the wrist.
Holly had met Karpati at a club. He was older and cool and dark and edgy. He chatted her up. They danced, they drank, they fucked. She thought he was the best thing ever. He seemed to be able to tolerate her. His disdain just made her want him more. She wanted to know all his secrets. He told her she didn’t want that, she couldn’t handle it. She insisted. He told her he was descended from vampires. He didn’t need blood like real vampires. Not every day. But he did need it sometimes. And it had to be pure blood. Girl’s blood. Virgin’s blood.
That had hurt her. She wasn’t a virgin. Hadn’t been since some boy in seventh grade. She couldn’t help him. But then again, maybe she could. She had friends. Girls she’d met here and there. Most had lived lives like her, but there were a few, the snooty girls with the rich parents she met through the church where her probation officer said she could do her community service hours. Girls like Emily Montgomery.
So she told Karpati about Emily and they hatched a plan. Holly chatted her up and made friends. Waited for her to mention a time she’d be home alone. It didn’t take long and soon enough they had a day picked out. They parked in Karpati’s car down the street, lights dimmed, and waited for Emily’s parents to leave. Then they drove up and parked a few houses away. Holly knocked and Emily opened the door. Of course she did. She knew Holly.
But she didn’t know the man who stepped from the shadows and pushed her back inside by her throat. The man who overpowered her and bound her hands behind her back. The man who suspended her upside down, then slit her throat and collected the spurting blood into a bucket while Holly vomited in the bathroom.
She had insisted on leaving the note for the parents. Karpati had argued with her, told her it was stupid and soft and sentimental, but she had insisted. He stormed off to the car while she scrawled out the message, her back to the girl swinging slowly behind her.
Karpati hadn’t said a word the drive back to his apartment. When they got there he told her it was better they slept separate that night. In case they were followed, he said. And besides, she didn’t want to see what he was going to do with the blood.
He was right. She didn’t.
She tried to go to school the next day but the cops grabbed her as she headed toward the building. And now here she was.
When she finished, Holly looked up and shrugged. “Do you believe me?”
Chen nodded. “I believe you.”
Brunelle wasn’t so sure.
***
“So she didn’t do anything?” Brunelle challenged Chen as Holly waited in the interrogation room.
“People always minimize their own role,” Chen shrugged. “Besides that’s enough for accessory to murder.”
“Of course it is,” Brunelle answered. “She picked out the victim and got her to open the door. All with knowledge of what this Karpati guy had planned.”
Brunelle frowned and shook his head. “But I don’t buy it. She was in deeper than what she’s claiming.”
“So what? It’s enough to convict her.”
“I don’t want to convict her,” Brunelle explained. “I want to convict him. I believe her when she says it was his idea and he’s a fucking psychopath. But I need the jury to believe her too.”
Chen furrowed his brow at Brunelle. “If you’re gonna cut her a deal to testify, isn’t it better if she says she didn’t do anything?”
“It is if she’s telling the truth. But if her story is bullshit, and the forensics comes back to prove it, then she’s worthless. If she says she never touched Emily, but it’s her DNA on the fingernail clippings? If she says she didn’t hoist body up, but they find her fingerprints on the balcony railing?”
Chen nodded. “Yeah, okay. I see your point.”
“Go back in and see if she won’t give you something more,” Brunelle instructed. “But don’t mention me this time. If she won’t give you the whole story now, she’ll give it to me later when I tell her lawyer she’s gotta come clean to get a deal. We may not be able execute her, but we can damn well put her in prison for the better part of her life.”
Chapter 4
It took several days to locate Karpati. With a name like Arpad Karpati it wasn’t hard to find his address, but the guy knew the cops would be looking for him, so he wasn’t staying there any more. The stake out of his apartment only confirmed he had abandoned it.
But he still liked the girlies.
Holly had given them the name of the night club they had met at. “Darkness.” According to Chen it was frequented by whatever had become of the goth craze. Lots of black clothes, black eyeliner, and black pills. The name had led to a photograph which had led to an arrest outside the club a few days later.
“We got ‘im,” Chen said when Brunelle answered his cell phone during Thursday night football.
“On my way.”
“Main precinct. Twenty minutes.”
This time Brunelle was already waiting in the observation room when they brought Karpati in.
He looked like a real jerk.
Tall and gaunt, but with broad shoulders and large hands. He kept his hair short and sported deep acne scars over both cheeks. His thin lips were locked in a sneer as McCall sat him down opposite Chen. They didn’t take his cuffs off.
“Do you know why you’re here, Arpad?” Chen started.
Brunelle loved that question. If they said yes, it was practically a confession. If they said no, well, then Chen had them lying from the outset. He waited to see how Arpad Karpati would answer.
“Why don’t you tell me?”
Brunelle frowned. That was a pretty damn good response. He hoped Chen could get somewhere with this guy.
“I think you know why, Arpad,” Chen said. “So why don’t we cut right to the chase. We know you killed Emily Montgomery. We know how you did it and we know why you did it. So make this easy on yourself. We just want to hear your side of the story.”
Karpati tipped his head back and appraised the detectives opposite him. He set his jaw, but his lip started to quiver.
“Detective Chen was it?” he asked shakily.
“Yes. Chen.”
“What’s your first name, Detective Chen?” The lip quavered visibly.
Chen hesitated. “Larry. Detective Larry Chen.”
Karpati offered a tight smile. “Thank you, Larry.”
He raised his cuffed hands to his face and wiped at his eyes. “I want you to believe me when I say this, Larry.”
Chen leaned forward. So did Brunelle.
‘It’s very important that you understand what I’m about to tell you.”
“We’ll understand, Arpad,” Chen assured. McCall nodded.
Brunelle wondered whether this guy really was a nut job. Maybe they’d be looking at an insanity plea.
Karpati lowered his hands. “Good,” he whispered. “Thank you, Larry.”
He nodded, his face looking as solemn as a vicar at a funeral, and said, “Then please believe me when I tell you. Please understand when I say….”
Then the face melted into a hateful grin, “That I want a lawyer.”
Karpati threw himself back in his chair and laughed. When he looked at the awestruck detectives again, he laughed even harder.
Chen slammed himself to his feet. “Get this bastard out of my sight. Book him on murder one.”
McCall jerked him to his feet. “Does this mean you don’t want to talk to me?” Karpati taunted as McCall dragged him from the room.
Chen paced for a moment then punched the table. “Damn it!”
Brunelle walked into the interrogation room. He couldn’t keep from smiling.
“Okay,” he said. “You have to admit, that was pretty funny.”
“Fuck you.” Chen was angry but he started to laugh too. “Damn it. That fucker got me.”
“He sure did. It was looking good for a minute there.”
Chen slapped the table one more time. “Well, when the jury sees that, they’ll know what an asshole he is.
”
Brunelle shook his head. “No, they won’t see that. We can never tell a jury that somebody asked for a lawyer. It’s an improper comment on his right to remain silent.”
Chen’s eyes widened. “It’s not just that he asked for a lawyer. Hell, they ask for lawyers all the time. It’s how he asked for it. Playing me like that, like this is all some fucking game. Can’t that come in?”
Brunelle pursed his lips. “It might. Maybe. If I could convince a judge it was distinct enough from the request. Maybe sanitize it a bit. But I’m not gonna do that.”
“Why not?” Brunelle could see Chen was still angry.
“Because, that’s exactly the little detail, the little something extra, the envelope pushing, chalk on the shoes kinda overreaching that appellate courts use to overturn convictions on death cases.”
Chen’s scowl gave way to a smile. “So this is going to be a death case?”
“Oh yes,” replied Brunelle. “We’re gonna kill that son of a bitch.”
Chapter 5
“Jessica Edwards,” answered Holly’s public defender when she picked up the phone.
“Jess, it’s Dave,” said Brunelle. “Let’s talk deal.”
“Why, I’m fine today, Dave,” Jessica replied. “And how are you?”
Brunelle took a deep breath and allowed himself a smile. “I’m fine, Jess. Thanks for asking. Did you sleep well last night?”
“That, David Brunelle, is none of your damn business.”
Brunelle had to laugh. He was tempted to follow up with a ‘What was his name?’ but thought better of it. They were too close in age and both too single for that kind of talk to be anything but regrettable. Instead he got back to business.
“Holly Sandholm. Is she interested in testifying against her boyfriend? He was arrested this morning.”
“Yeah, I heard about it. It’s all over the news.”
“So, is she on board?” Brunelle pressed. He knew he needed her testimony to explain what happened inside the house. Jessica knew it too.
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