Chapter 4 - The Interrogation Room
The interrogation room at the district precinct smelled of damp masonry, old coffee, and institutional floor wax. A single fluorescent tube flickered overhead, casting a harsh, unblinking glare onto the metal table where Julian sat with his hands cuffed loosely to a bolted ring. Across from him sat Senior Lieutenant Mai and a second investigator, Detective Minh, whose expression was as impassigable as a granite monument.
A heavy digital recorder sat in the center of the table, its small red LED light pulsing with rhythmic regularity.
"Let’s review your timeline for yesterday morning, Mr. Sterling," Detective Minh said, flipping open a beige file folder. "You stated in your initial verbal intake that your wife suffered an accidental fall down the interior staircase while carrying groceries."
Julian swallowed hard, his throat dry. He had spent the car ride to the station rehearsing his story with his defense lawyer—a family friend who specialized in corporate property law, not criminal defense. "That’s... that’s correct. She tripped over a box of design supplies in the hallway. She lost her balance."
"An accidental fall," Detective Minh repeated, his tone conversational, almost bored. "And the friction marks across her abdomen? Did she fall stomach-first onto a box of Pantone swatches?"
"She... she must have hit the edge of the console table on her way down," Julian stammered, sweat beading along his hairline.
Detective Minh didn't argue. He simply reached out, tapped the play button on the laptop connected to the room's audio system, and leaned back in his chair.
The room was instantly filled with the harsh, undeniable audio of the dashcam recording.
Whistle—crack!
The sharp sound of the rattan cane slicing through the air cut through the sterile room like a scalpel. Then came Clara’s muffled, terrified gags, followed immediately by Beatrice’s crisp, unmistakable voice: "Hold her shoulders down, Julian, she's squirming too much." Then Julian’s own low grunt: "I’ve got her. Just finish it before the courier comes back."
Julian’s face went completely grey. He stared at the laptop speaker as if it were a venomous snake about to strike. Every defense he had prepared, every rehearsed lie about staircases and clumsy accidents, dissolved into ash.
"That's... that's edited," Julian choked out, his voice cracking with panic. "That's artificial intelligence. People can fake audio files these days—everyone in the design industry knows that. My wife uses advanced software, she could have generated—"
"Mr. Sterling," Lieutenant Mai interrupted, her voice cutting through his frantic rationalization like cold steel. "We didn't just recover the file from your wife's phone. We pulled the original flash memory card directly from the dashcam hard drive of the delivery truck owned by Transport Logistics Corp, authenticated by their digital forensics department. Furthermore, the two neighbors standing outside your gate—Mr. Toan and Mrs. Hoa—have already provided sworn statements confirming they heard your mother’s voice giving instructions from inside the courtyard at 9:15 AM yesterday."
Julian slumped back in his chair, the metallic clink of his handcuffs echoing loudly in the silent room. The illusion of control was entirely gone.
"Where is she?" Julian muttered, staring at the scarred metal table. "Is she... is the baby...?"
"Your wife and child are under police medical protection at a secure location," Detective Minh said coldly. "And as of ten minutes ago, an arrest warrant has been executed for your mother, Beatrice Sterling, as an active co-conspirator in aggravated assault resulting in severe bodily harm to a pregnant individual."
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Julian closed his eyes, the reality of what he had destroyed finally crashing down upon him. But even in his defeat, his mind was already calculating the fallout—not for Clara, but for himself, his job at the design firm, and his social standing in the community.
He had assumed Clara was too weak to fight back. He had miscalculated every single variable. And the bill was finally coming due.
