CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jessie decided it had been long enough.
The delay gave Jessie a little time to think too. She had been having an internal debate about whether she had really needed to use so much force with Martinez on the train platform. Some might have considered it excessive. Certainly some bystanders did.
Then again, this was a triple-murder suspect and making sure she didn’t turn Jessie into her fourth victim was the top priority.
That said, she had to acknowledge the truth: while she hadn’t experienced any feelings of bloodlust while taking down Martinez, she hadn’t felt any guilt in the moment either.
Like when she’d shot Ash Pierce, she’d made a decision that violence was the simplest solution to the problem at hand.
It was only now, with time to look back on it, that the choice felt questionable.
After the takedown in the station, Sam read Martinez her rights while he cuffed her, but she chose to ignore the “right to remain silent” part, as she’d lashed out at both of them, and especially Jessie, during the entire drive back to Central Station.
They had decided there was no point in trying to question her under those conditions.
But now, as Jessie studied Martinez through the two-way mirror, it looked like the woman had calmed down a bit.
“Do we want to give it a try?” she asked Sam, who was standing beside her in the observation room.
“It’s worth a shot,” he said.
They switched rooms. As soon as the interrogation room door opened, Elena glared at Jessie but said nothing.
“Have you reconsidered talking with us?” Sam asked with surprising equanimity, considering the unflattering names she’d called him in the car.
“I’ll talk to you,” she said before squinting at Jessie, “but not to that violent bitch.”
“Ms. Hunt can just observe for now,” Sam said, clearly a little surprised at her response. “Just a reminder that you’ve been apprised of your rights and have declined to request a lawyer.”
“I’m not going to say anything that will require the presence of a lawyer, dumbass,” she spat.
“Good to know,” he replied with admirable restraint. “So why did you run, Elena?”
“I don’t know, maybe because it seemed like you two scumbags were on the verge of railroading me.”
“Really?’ Sam said. “Ms. Hunt actually advised you of the risk of not confirming badge numbers and identities. We agreed to let you dry your hair before any questioning. At no point did we ever say anything threatening. Heck, we barely even got to talk before you did your Spider-Man routine down the side of the building.”
Martinez sat quietly with that for a moment. When she replied, she leaned in conspiratorially.
“Look, you can pretend that you were there to ask about the embezzlement charges, but we all know that was just a front for the real reason you came to see me.”
“Oh?” Sam said, trying to hide the excitement he felt at potentially being on the verge of a confession, “what reason was that?”
“You think I’m just going to give everything up without some kind of offer on the table?” she demanded, incredulous.
Sam looked over at Jessie, stunned. She wanted to reply but worried that saying anything might piss Martinez off enough to make her change her mind, so she simply shrugged. Sam turned back to Martinez.
“How can we gauge what kind of offer we can make if we don’t know at least the general universe of what you’re willing to tell us?”
Martinez pondered that for a few seconds.
“What if I was willing to give up names?” She asked. “Wouldn’t that get me some kind of deal, maybe immunity?”
There was no way immunity was on the table, but to his credit, Sam didn’t say so.
“What names?” he asked. “Of other victims?”
Martinez shrugged. “I guess that’s an option, but they’re pretty easy to identify. I figured you’d be more interested in, you know, co-conspirators.”
“There are other people involved?” Sam asked, trying to rein in his shock.
“Of course, do you think I would ever try to pull something like this off on my own?”
Something about Elena Martinez’s brazen attitude was giving Jessie pause.
She didn’t give off the energy of a woman who was trying to spread the blame around for multiple brutal murders.
It was almost as if she was having an entirely different conversation from the one Sam was engaged in.
Jessie knew it could make things worse but she had to speak up.
“Elena, I know you’re upset with me right now, but I have to ask, without giving up names yet, what conspiracy are you specifically referencing?”
Martinez’s face had immediately turned sour when Jessie spoke, but then the expression changed to something closer to condescension. She smiled nastily before returning her attention to Sam.
“I’ll talk slow so your idiot partner can understand,” she said. “For the right price, I’m willing to give up the names of everyone who was involved in the scam.”
“The scam,” Jessie repeated, keeping the emotion out of her voice as best she could.
“Yeah,” Martinez said, now addressing her directly. “You think I could have created this entire bogus non-profit on my own? I’m just a cog, you stupid skank.”
Jessie ignored the insult, turning to Sam. He looked genuinely confounded, so she returned her attention to Martinez.
“To be clear,” she said carefully, “you ran from us because you thought we were going to pin the whole non-profit scam on you at the expense of the others involved. That’s why you climbed down the side of an apartment building?”
“Yeah,” Martinez said, now perplexed herself. “Why else?”
Jessie chose not to answer that question as she tried to wrap her head around what they were being told. When she replied, she was very careful with her words.
“I think that if you explain the scam and provide us with names, that could go a long way,” she said.
“If your information helps with prosecutions of the others involved, I can assure you that we’d be willing to make a recommendation of leniency to the district attorney.
But you’d need to be totally forthright. You can’t hold anything back.”
Martinez eyed her warily before looking over at Sam. “Do you both promise?”
His mouth was still open in shock about the whole scam thing but he managed to nod. Jessie spoke up instead, pointing at the mirror.
“Everything we’re saying is being recorded,” she said, “so there will be a record of our agreement.”
"All right," Martinez said, "here's the thing: the entire IILA is bogus. I mean, it's a real non-profit organization, and it does some good work, but that wasn't the original goal when it was created."
Jessie bit her tongue. This wasn’t what she was hoping for at all. If Martinez was being honest, her escape attempt was because of a con and unrelated to any murders. She still listened but on the inside, the disappointment was overwhelming.
“On the surface,” Martinez continued, “the idea was to establish a group that helped immigrant women assimilate into the Los Angeles community. But when it was created, the real plan was to target the immigrant wives of wealthy men for donations. Many leapt at the chance to give back. We did include some legitimate elements: support groups, outreach efforts, training sessions in the English language and even American culture. But all of that cost a fraction of what we were bringing in through donations.”
“How much was that?” Jessie asked.
“In the last fiscal year, IILA brought in $8 million in donations. But operating costs, including overhead for headquarters, all the programs I mentioned, and two major fundraising banquets each year, came to less than a quarter of that.”
“So you and your co-conspirators pocketed the other $6 million?” Jessie asked.
“I wish,” Martinez said. “Half of that was left in the coffers as a precaution against prying eyes. But the people in charge split most of the remaining $3 million. My take came to about $250,000. That’s why I started siphoning off other cash on the side.
And it was that last bit that got me busted. ”
“And yet you kept quiet?” Sam noted.
“That’s right,” she said. “For the last three months I’ve kept my mouth shut because the others—all already filthy rich—said they would make me whole when this all quieted down.
But to date, they haven’t given me a penny and I was starting to doubt they ever would.
Then you came to the apartment and I thought that not only was I not going to get paid, but I was about to be charged with a whole bunch of new stuff.
So I panicked and went over the side. It wasn’t the smartest move, I admit. But I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Jessie was curious about who the others were, but that wasn’t her priority right now. She knew she was probably wasting her time, but she had to pursue the next line of questioning anyway.
“Have you watched the news lately?” she asked.
“Are you kidding?” Martinez said dismissively. “My life is depressing enough without that. I don’t need to hear my name being dragged through the mud. I do three things these days: meet with my lawyer, rock climb, and stream movies. It’s the only way to maintain my sanity.”
Sam picked up on the line of questioning, though his tone suggested he was no more hopeful than Jessie that it would bear fruit. “Do you know Maria Cain, Yuki Tanaka, or Anastasia Williamson?
“Of course,” Martinez said, her voice full of bile, “Those bitches all voted to fire me.”
“Were any of them in on the scam?” Jessie asked.
“Please,” Martinez scoffed. “Those three were totally oblivious. I guess you could call them victims since it was their husbands’ money being stolen, but I think they’ll survive the shame of getting taken. Why are you only asking about them?”
Jessie decided to lay it all out. On the off chance that this was all an impressive ruse, maybe Martinez would give something away when Jessie shared the news, either by overreacting or the opposite. And if her story was credible, perhaps she’d have some idea why they were killed.
“All three of them were murdered in the last 60 hours,” she said simply.
Martinez’s jaw dropped open. She looked over at Sam to see if he would dispute what she’d just heard. He only nodded to confirm Jessie’s words.
“How? Why?” she asked, before another question popped into her head. “Wait, is that why you came to see me? You think that I killed them?”
“Did you?” Jessie asked.
“No way,” she insisted. “I mean, yeah I thought they were bitches. I can’t deny that.
But they were also my bread and butter. I have that apartment because they were so gullible.
I’m sorry to say that about dead women, but it’s true.
You want total honesty? I didn’t like them. But I’d never kill them.”
Jessie leaned back and closed her eyes. They’d have to follow up on Martinez’s alibi.
But if what she was saying held up, then it appeared that their best lead just blew up in their faces.
Worse, they’d spent valuable time running around in circles while the whole time, the real killer was still out there, maybe hunting for their next victim.