12. Chapter Twelve #2
“While the significant head injury is consistent with a fall and impact with a hard surface, other contributing factors or underlying conditions cannot be ruled out without additional information,” Aurora continues.
“How noncommittal of the coroner. Do they usually avoid giving conclusive findings? Oh—” She flips the document to a close-up photo of Alessia’s face, then quickly closes the brown manila folder.
“I’ve read, listened to, and watched hundreds of shows and movies about crime,” she says, placing the folder on the table before pushing it away.
“This is different. Alessia was a real person, a mom.” Her voice breaks.
“One moment she was alive, and then… she wasn’t. ”
Daniel nods in agreement.
“Do you ever get used to it?” Aurora asks.
“To what? Death? Not really. I think the day I get used to it is the day I should stop being a cop.” Daniel’s tone is melancholic.
Aurora’s eyes scan the folders, searching for a specific one. “They know she died from the impact of her head with the—”
“With the corner of the dumpster,” Daniel finishes for her.
“Yes. But the coroner can’t be sure if she was pushed?”
“I mean, the angle of the dumpster is pretty high,” Daniel replies, gesturing for Aurora to stand. “Stand up for a moment.”
Surprised, Aurora complies.
Daniel picks up her water bottle from the floor and holds it at the approximate height of the dumpster.
“You and Alessia are about the same height. Now, imagine,” he says, positioning the bottle, “for you to hit your head on it, you’d need to be close.
At that distance, you wouldn’t have enough force to inflict the kind of damage she had simply by falling. ”
Aurora raises an eyebrow. “Even if I’m drunk?”
“She wasn’t drunk,” Daniel replies, lowering the bottle and setting it on the table.
“Do you know if she was a drinker?”
Daniel blows out a frustrated sigh. “Why does it matter?”
Her voice softens. “I’m just trying to understand her state of mind. She was on her way to a gala, yet she was already close to the legal limit? Did Sergei say if she drank before they left the apartment?”
“Yes,” Daniel replies. “According to Sergei, she had two shots of tequila—one before they left the apartment and one in the car.”
Aurora murmurs to herself, “She really didn’t want to be there.”
“Why do you say that?” he asks, curiosity piqued. He has his own theories about why Alessia drank, but he’s eager to hear Aurora’s perspective.
“I mean, people usually drink either to celebrate or to escape,” Aurora says, pausing to glance at the whiskey bottle in Daniel’s hand. “And if she was drunk, or even slightly intoxicated, her reflexes and response to whatever happened in that alley would have been affected.”
“Potentially,” Daniel agrees. “Which is why it can’t be a simple accidental fall.”
“Okay,” Aurora says. She finishes her pizza slice and sets the uneaten crust on her plate. “Not an accident.”
She stands up to retrieve the folder with the detailed photos of Alessia’s missing jewelry from the insurance company.
The centerpiece is a dazzling, flawless diamond, roughly the size of a large peanut M&M, surrounded by smaller diamonds that amplify its brilliance.
The earrings and necklace form a stunning matching set, adorned with exquisite emerald-cut green gemstones, crafted from the finest 18-karat white gold.
“Why do you think Sergei killed her?” she asks, closing the jewelry folder.
Daniel takes the remote, flipping it in his hand with a practiced motion. “Well, statistically speaking—” he begins.
“I know the statistics,” Aurora interrupts, waving him off. “If you want my help, you need to offer more than generalized statistics.”
“They were fighting.”
“As does every married couple,” she counters.
“He was distant and preoccupied with his work.”
“Again, as are many spouses.” She rises from the couch, taking a few steps, as if noticing her surroundings for the first time. “Is there a prenup?” Aurora turns on her heel to face Daniel.
He shuffles through a stack of papers before pulling out a folder and handing it to her.
Aurora spends a few minutes reading through it. Daniel starts to speak a few times, but she shushes him with a raised finger. “Okay. She would have received a substantial amount if they had divorced.”
“It’s just a legal formality. Divorce wasn’t an option,” he says with certainty.
She stops and looks at him. “What do you mean divorce wasn’t an option?”
“Sergei is Ukrainian Orthodox. He doesn’t believe in divorce. He’s all about ‘till death do us part,’ even if he needs to help that last part along,” Daniel says cynically.
Aurora wraps her arms around her middle, her voice dropping lower as she asks, “Was he having an affair?”
“Not that I can tell,” Daniel replies, though it sounds like a part of him wishes it wasn’t the case. “He’s too busy with his stupid hotel.”
“And on her part?”
“No.”
“Did you talk with her family or friends? Her best friend might know—”
Daniel rises to his feet, gripping the neck of the bottle tightly. “She wasn’t cheating,” he asserts, raising the bottle to emphasize his words.