Chapter 4 Friday, 12 June 2026 #3
She thought it through. Sure, Edward and the ‘one percenters’ had seen her article as a personal affront, and possible motive for murder, but New York’s finest were not among the one per cent.
And yes, she’d technically had opportunity to poison Madison’s drink, but so had Elle, and Bash, and the several classmates Madison had spoken to after the welcome address – and Henry Alcott Winslow for that matter, before he slipped out.
Not to mention anyone Madison might have encountered in the ladies’ room.
If she agreed to speak now, voluntarily, she could make them see all that, get the heat off herself. Diverting their suspicions at the start of the night might be her best play. If the interview went off course, she’d simply walk out.
‘Fine. My name is Hannah Irene Miller, and I’m willing to speak voluntarily.’
‘Ms Miller—’
‘Please call me Hannah.’
‘Hannah,’ Detective Crews continued, ‘you were a scholarship student at Prescott Academy during the 2016 to 2017 school year. Is that correct?’
‘It is.’ How had the detectives gathered so much information on her so quickly?
Madison’s body had been cold for barely more than an hour, and already they knew Hannah’s middle name, scholarship status and the dates of her attendance at Prescott.
It was all information available online, but the ease with which Detective Crews had imparted these facts seemed to confirm her suspicions – they had already zeroed in on her.
‘And during that time, how would you describe your relationship to the victim, Madison DuPont?’
‘We were friends,’ Hannah said carefully. ‘Madison took me under her wing on my first day. She introduced me to her friends, and to life at Prescott.’
‘And did you and Madison remain friends throughout the school year? Were there any points of tension in your relationship?’
Hannah’s stomach clenched. What exactly had these detectives dug up in the hour since Bash had called 9-1-1?
‘We remained friends for the entire school year,’ she replied, voice steady. ‘As you know, I was a scholarship student. There was no lack of interpersonal drama at Prescott Academy, but unless you came from money, you didn’t rank. I escaped most of it by flying under the radar.’
Detective Wellesley’s eyes narrowed. ‘I thought you said you and Madison were friends. She was hardly under anyone’s radar.’
‘Right,’ Hannah stammered. She drew in a deep breath. Get it together. ‘What I meant was, my scholarship status made me relatively invisible. Madison and I could be at a party together all night, and Madison would appear on Page Six the next morning, but no one would remember I was there.’
‘Sounds like the kind of friendship that would make most people jealous,’ Detective Crews commented.
‘Maybe some.’ Hannah’s eyes travelled past the detective to a narrow curio shelf, which held an assortment of artefacts that appeared to have been intentionally left behind by club guests.
A small stone elephant, an antique pipe and, incongruously, a pink rubber ball.
‘But I preferred it that way. Madison was a lot of fun, but she was always being watched – at school, in public, even by the media. I’ve never wanted that. ’
‘And was there ever any tension in your friendship?’ Detective Crews repeated. ‘Sounds like Madison DuPont knew how to get her way. That she could be a bully.’
Hannah’s eyes widened. These detectives knew an awful lot about her – and Madison.
She composed herself. ‘Madison DuPont was the first person to make me feel welcome at Prescott, and she remained a friend throughout my time there. After high school, we lost touch. Different colleges, you know.’
‘But you both stayed in New York,’ Detective Wellesley said. ‘Madison attended Columbia, and you studied journalism at NYU.’
‘True,’ she said. ‘But Morningside Heights and the Village may as well be different worlds. In the end, Madison and I didn’t have a whole lot in common.’
‘A sentiment that has stayed with you,’ Detective Wellesley said. ‘ “New York’s Billionaires: Let Them Eat Dirt” is quite a title.’
She grimaced. ‘I didn’t write the title. But yes, I stand by my article. It wasn’t about Madison, though.’
‘Of course not,’ Detective Crews said. ‘Just people like Madison, in general. It caused quite a stir among the Winslow campaign.’
‘Unfortunate timing,’ she said through tight teeth. ‘And not within my control.’
Her gaze fell to a low-profile bar cart to her right. That private-label scotch looked fantastic right about now.
‘I understand that,’ Detective Wellesley said. ‘My sister’s a journalist. Nevertheless, you must see why it upset the Winslows and DuPonts. Did you hear from Madison or anyone tied to the Winslow campaign after the article ran?’
‘Not directly. I haven’t been in touch with Madison for years, until tonight. I tried to smooth things over after the welcome address, but she made it very clear she didn’t wish to talk to me. That was it, the sum total of our interaction.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ Detective Crews was nodding. ‘And did you see anyone else approach Ms DuPont after she ended your conversation?’
‘No. Although Elle Harrington was with us in the library, and I imagine she could have run into someone in the hallway or ladies’ room. Literally anyone here tonight could have followed her.’
‘Mmm.’ Detective Wellesley nodded again.
‘And what about her husband, Henry Winslow?’ Hannah asked. ‘He left before the speeches had even concluded. That’s strange, right?’
‘Thank you, Hannah.’ Detective Crews switched off the recorder. ‘That will be all for now.’
‘Will you be talking to him?’ Hannah asked. Neither detective responded.
Feeling off-kilter, Hannah stood and saw herself out.
Her head was swimming; the martini and wine had mixed badly.
As she walked down the hall to the stairs, she replayed the interview in her head.
It could have gone better – admittedly, she’d sounded a little desperate there at the end – but it hadn’t been horrible, had it?
What she couldn’t get over was how quickly the detectives seemed to have gotten up to speed on Madison’s – and Hannah’s – past. They couldn’t have possibly done a deep dive into Prescott Academy circa 2016 on their drive to the club.
Which would have been very brief, because they’d been coming from the 19th Precinct, which served the Upper East Side.
Suddenly it clicked. Detectives Wellesley and Crews weren’t New York old money elite, but they rubbed elbows.
These detectives protected and served their community – theft was probably the top crime on the Upper East; the residents were victims, not criminals.
New York’s one per cent funded the 19th Precinct.
Of course the detectives knew everything about the DuPonts and Winslows and surely the Beaumonts and Harringtons and Fitzgeralds and on and on.
When it came to Hannah, they must have run a quick search, then filled in the blanks.
Sounds like the kind of friendship that would make most people jealous.
‘New York’s Billionaires: Let Them Eat Dirt’ is quite a title.
They hadn’t even been questions, just leading statements designed to make Hannah look like a woman still bitter about old high school grievances, with revenge on the brain.
There was no doubt: these detectives already had their minds made up about her – just like her former classmates.
Hannah arrived at the base of the stairs, and a sea of heads turned.
Slowly, a path opened in front of her. Alice St Clair frowned, then took two steps back, stumbling into Alex DuPont.
He righted himself, then met Hannah’s gaze with a stony glare.
Even Mr Harris gave Hannah a worried look.
No one wanted to get too close to Killer Hannah Miller, which is exactly how she saw herself reflected in their eyes.
Word had clearly spread that she’d been the first called to speak with police.
They were afraid of her. They really thought she was capable of murder.
And while the detectives hadn’t openly accused her of anything, they clearly thought so too. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Someone brushed past Hannah on their way up the stairs with a polite, ‘Excuse me, Ms Miller.’ She turned in time to see Renee Caldwell on her way to the interview room.
Surely the Head of School couldn’t be high on the suspect list, but the detectives probably wanted her help in closing some more gaps about Hannah and Madison as students.
Which meant everything she’d just said about remaining friends with Madison DuPont was going to blow up in her face.
She was about to look very suspicious indeed.