Chapter 59
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City Police Station—Sitka, AK
The clock on the wall of the interrogation room ticked loudly. Anya’s mouth was dry. Her wrists were still raw from the sharp metal of the handcuffs.
A raven announced its arrival on the sill of the small barred window of the interrogation room with a rapid series of clicks.
Worlson burst through the door. “Let’s get to it, folks from Juneau will be here soon.”
Anya tried not to let her anger show in her tone. “This Thomas guy did kill Chilton. I don’t know why he did it, but it was definitely him. He admitted it.”
Worlson settled back into his chair. “All right, describe him for me. We’d like to at least ask him a few questions.”
“Like I said, his name is Thomas. Don’t know if that’s his first or last name.
” Anya tried to picture Thomas in her head.
“He’s about your age, I’d guess. Tall, lanky, slicked-back gray hair, handlebar mustache, fancy gray city suit, shiny shoes, expensive watch, green attaché case, blue shirt with wide yellow tie. ”
Worlson looked up from his notes. He leaned slowly back in his chair and made eye contact once again. “Interesting. About my age, you say?”
“More or less. Not sure how old you are.”
Worlson scribbled a note. “Where’d you say he was from?”
Anya studied Worlson’s face for signs that he was messing with her. “St. Louis, I think. He said he was only in town for the day so I could sign some documents for a fishing cabin I’m selling.”
Worlson took more notes and continued, “And you met with him and Mr. Chilton at what time?”
“No, he actually brought the papers to my boat for me to sign. Yesterday.”
Worlson wrapped a hand behind his head and looked up, raising an eyebrow. “I see. Can you show me the documents you signed?”
So this was the “gotcha” he was leading up to.
“No, he didn’t leave me a copy.” Anya felt deflated. “He took them back with him for processing.”
Worlson looked like her dad about to give her a lecture. “Did it strike you as odd that you signed off on those closing papers and didn’t get a copy for yourself?”
The raven in the window let out a low gurgling croak, slowly rising in pitch.
Anya didn’t like Worlson’s chess game. “I didn’t think of it at the time. It seemed…”
The chief straightened in his chair, paused, and then looked her in the eye.
“Let me make sure I understand. You entered Chilton’s office, discovered his brutal murder, casually left, and dialed us from a pay phone a half mile away.
Afterward, you returned to your boat, had a meeting with this Thomas fellow, signed some papers, and carried on with your regular activities?
And during this encounter, he conveniently confessed to killing your lawyer? ”
“He threatened to kill me if I mentioned him,” Anya said. “He also offered me a lot of money for my fishing cabin. Way too much.”
Worlson took another note. “Why would Thomas choose to meet you on your boat instead of your lawyer’s office?”
The raven made a harsh, shrill grating sound and hopped to the other edge of the window.
The chief had cornered her again. “Obviously, because he’d just killed my attorney. I went back to my boat and he just showed up there. Your officers walked right past him on—”
A knock at the door interrupted her.
Worlson got up and walked into the hallway.
“Excuse me, Ms. Baron.” Worlson leaned back into the room. “The state police from Juneau just arrived, and I need to talk with them. Sit tight, okay? Can I have an officer get you anything else?”
“Some water would be fine.”
Worlson closed the door behind him.
Voices—too low to make out—mumbled in the hallway.
Gray light drizzled through the small window. The raven let out a scratchy caw and flew away.
The clock on the wall ticked louder and louder, its plodding rhythm pounding into her aching head, the second hand seeming to slow with each taunting click.