Chapter 8 - Confrontation Behind Soundproof Glass
At 2:00 PM that afternoon, Detective Jenkins escorted me to the Cook County Interrogation Facility. Julian had requested an emergency meeting with me before his formal federal arraignment.
I sat on a metal stool behind the reinforced soundproof glass. On the other side, Julian was brought in wearing an orange jumpsuit, his wrists and ankles shackled. His eyes were red and swollen from the detergent, his face hollow, gaunt, and defeated.
He picked up the black telephone receiver. I picked up mine.
"Mom," he choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Mom, please... you have to tell the prosecutors I didn't want to do it. Victoria forced me. She said if I didn't go along with it, she would frame me for the embezzlement and leave me with the debt collectors!"
"You put your six-year-old daughter in a casket, Julian," I said, my voice dead and devoid of any warmth. "You locked her wrists to the wood. You stood by while she was poisoned."
"I was going to stop it at the crematorium!" Julian wept, pressing his shackled hands against the glass. "I swear to God, Mom! I had a second key in my pocket! I was going to switch the boxes before the fire!"
"You are a liar," I said coldly. "We found the flight tickets to Zurich for 7:00 AM. The crematorium van was booked for 5:00 AM. You were never going to save her. You chose your luxury cars, your country club memberships, and your cowardice over the life of your own baby."
"Mom, I'm your son!" Julian screamed, banging his fists against the glass. "You can't let them send me to prison for life! I'll die in there!"
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"The boy I raised died the moment you agreed to murder my granddaughter," I replied, staring directly into his cowardly eyes. "As far as I am concerned, I have no son. I only have Chloe. And I will spend every breath left in my body ensuring she forgets you ever existed."
I slammed the receiver back onto the cradle, stood up, and walked out without looking back once as Julian broke down into hysterical, pathetic wails behind the glass.
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