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E mily placed her cell phone and purse into a plastic bag the officer held in front of her and asked, “When do I get my phone call?”
“You’ll get your phone call once we’re finished processing you,” the officer replied as she patted Emily down. Afterward, they took her mug shot and fingerprinted her before she was finally allowed to make her phone call.
Roman answered on the first ring. “Em, are you okay?”
She started to cry, “I’ve been arrested. I need your help.”
“I know. I’m on my way. I called a lawyer; he’s meeting us at the station. Whatever you do, don’t say anything until he gets there.”
“Okay.” Her voice cracked, “I’m scared, Roman. They found my scarf at the crime scene. I swear, I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“I know, Em. We’ll figure this out.”
“Time’s up,” the booking officer announced.
“I have to go,” Emily said, before placing the receiver back on the handset.
“Let’s go,” the booking officer said, gently taking hold of her elbow and pulling Emily to her feet. She escorted her to the holding cell where two other women were already inside—one possibly a prostitute and the other appeared to be heavily drugged. The officer unlocked the sliding cell door and nudged Emily inside, then closed and locked the door behind her.
Given her two options, Emily chose to sit on the bench with the prostitute, positioning herself as far away from her as possible. An hour passed, and Emily found herself contemplating using the stainless-steel toilet in the corner. Just then, a guard appeared and announced, “Emily Anderson, your attorney is here.”
Emily sprang up from the bench and rushed toward the door, extending her hands for the guard to cuff her. As they made their way to the interrogation room, they passed a restroom.
“I need to use the bathroom,” Emily said.
“You should have used the one in the holding cell,” the guard replied.
“Please,” Emily begged, “I really have to go.”
The guard rolled his eyes before opening the bathroom door and stepping inside. He checked each stall to ensure they were empty, then uncuffed her. With his arms crossed, he stood guard as Emily entered a stall and used the toilet.
When Emily finished, she stepped out of the stall. “Thank you,” she said, moving to the sink to wash her hands. After drying them, she walked over to the officer and extended her hands for him to re-cuff her. They left the bathroom and proceeded to an interrogation room, where Emily met her attorney. Rising to his feet, he introduced himself, “Hello, Emily. I’m Stanley Kensington. I’m an attorney.”
Emily took a seat at the table across from him and offered a thin smile. “Thank you for coming.”
From his attire, Emily could tell he was going to be expensive. His Rolex watch and tailored suit exuded wealth. As she opened her mouth to speak, Stanley raised a finger, signaling her to hold off. He waited for the guard to uncuff her and leave the room before finally saying, “Okay, let’s begin.”
Her first concern was the cost, especially since she didn’t have any money. “How much do you charge?” she asked.
He opened the briefcase resting on the table and removed a legal contract. “You don’t need to worry about the price. I’ve agreed to take this case pro bono as a favor to Roman.” He slid the contract in front of Emily and added, “I’ll just need your signature if you want my representation.”
With a shaky hand, Emily quickly scribbled her name and slid the contract back to the attorney.
“Okay,” he said, as he placed the contract back into his briefcase. He then pulled out a legal pad and put it in front of him. “Now, tell me everything you know about the circumstances surrounding Maggie Culliver’s death.”
Emily spent the next twenty minutes bringing her attorney up to speed on everything that had transpired over the past week. She left nothing out, detailing the argument she had with Maggie, the blackmail, and the fact that her scarf was found at the crime scene. Throughout, he listened intently, jotting down notes and occasionally asking questions. She concluded with, “I know this looks bad, but I swear I had nothing to do with it.”
He placed his pen down, leaned back in his chair, and studied her intently, possibly gauging whether she was telling the truth. After a moment of silence, he asked, “Who do you think killed her?”
She sighed deeply. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think my husband, Gabriel, had something to do with this. He was having an affair with her. They worked together, and he’s been forced to take a leave of absence. Maybe he blamed her for that. And then, of course, there’s the whole blackmail situation.”
“And your scarf? How do you think it ended up at the scene?” the attorney asked.
“I think my husband planted it,” Emily replied. “Think about it. I have a motive for wanting her dead, so setting me up would be easy for him. He knows our marriage is over, and he knows I’m planning to leave him. He’s desperate and doesn’t want to lose his daughter. By pinning this on me, he not only gets away with murder but also ensures he keeps custody of our daughter.”
“I believe you,” he said. “In a minute, I’m going to call the guard and let them know we’re ready for the interview. I need you to answer all of their questions honestly, even if it doesn’t paint you in the best light. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Emily replied.
“All right,” he continued. “I want you to tell them everything you just told me about Gabriel’s involvement. It’s crucial that they consider other suspects besides you. If I feel things aren’t going well at any point, I will tap your hand. That means you should not answer the question. Are you ready?”
Emily nodded.
“Good.” Stanley stood up, walked over to the door, and opened it. “We’re ready,” he informed the guard.
Detective Martin entered the room a minute later, sat, and turned on the recording device. “Today is Thursday, October 14 th . I am Detective Martin from the Hudson County Police Department, interviewing Emily Anderson in connection with the murder of Maggie Culliver. Present in the room are Emily Anderson and her attorney, Stanley Kensington. Let’s begin. Please state your name for the record.”
“Emily Anderson.”
“Thank you, Emily. Do you know a woman named Maggie Culliver?”
“Yes.”
“And how do you know her?”
“She works,” Emily paused, correcting herself, “she worked with my husband, Gabriel.”
“Did you like Ms. Culliver?” Detective Martin asked.
Emily glanced at her attorney, who gave her a reassuring nod. “Not really, no,” she replied.
“And why is that?” the detective inquired.
“I’ve recently learned that she was having an affair with my husband,” Emily explained.
“Did you confront her about this affair?”
Once more, Emily glanced at her attorney before answering, “Yes.”
“And what did you say to her?” Detective Martin continued.
“I told her to stay away from my husband,” Emily replied.
“Or what? Did you threaten her?” he pressed further.
Emily shook her head. “No! I just told her to stay away from him.”
“Are you being threatened and blackmailed, Emily?” the detective asked.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“And who do you suspect is behind that?” he inquired.
“Maggie,” Emily whispered.
“Could you speak up, please?” Detective Martin requested.
“I said, Maggie,” Emily repeated, louder this time.
“And have you ever had a confrontation with Maggie?” he asked.
“Once, yes,” she responded.
“Have you ever been to Maggie’s apartment?” Detective Martin questioned.
“No,” Emily answered.
“Are you sure?” Detective Martin produced a clear bag containing a scarf. “Do you recognize this scarf?”
“Yes, it’s mine,” she replied.
“How can you be sure it’s yours?” he asked.
“It’s a one-of-a-kind Gianni Versace,” Emily explained.
“Do you know where we found this scarf?” the detective asked.
“Yes, you found it at the crime scene,” she acknowledged.
“You stated earlier that you’ve never been to Maggie’s apartment. Do you still stand by that?” Detective Martin asked.
“Yes, I’ve never been there,” Emily replied firmly.
“If you’ve never been there, how did your scarf end up at the scene?” he pressed.
“I think my husband planted it to frame me for her murder,” she answered.
Detective Martin leaned in, his gaze piercing. “Do you know what I think?” he began. “I think you discovered she was carrying his baby and that he intended to leave you. Enraged, you went to her apartment to confront her. In a fit of fury, you strangled her with your scarf and, in your haste, left the incriminating evidence behind.”
“What? No! He wasn’t leaving me.”
“So, despite his infidelity, you didn’t want him to leave you?”
Emily’s lawyer, Stanley, gently tapped her hand.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I was the one leaving him! You saw my luggage,” she exclaimed, desperation evident in her eyes.
Stanley shook his head slightly and tapped her hand again, a silent reminder to stay calm and say nothing else.
Detective Martin stood up, leaning in close to Emily’s face. “Admit it—you hated her, and you killed her!” he accused.
“No!” she cried out, her voice breaking.
Stanley rose to his feet, his voice firm and authoritative. “This interview is over.”
Detective Martin turned off the recorder and then left the room.