Day 80: Boston PD – 10 pm – Interrogation (Woody's POV)
I nearly had to beg Eddie to get him to let me watch Ellington being interrogated. Even in the face of mountains of forensic evidence, he didn't budge . . . he smirked . . . said that this wouldn't be going that far . . . he had a call into Governor O'Leary . . . I'm sure he didn't anticipate that the governor was in the process of calling Garrett to find out exactly what was going on.
"The altercation with a Mr. Demani . . . could you please explain to me exactly why you and your wife we dining with a hit man?" Eddie asked coolly.
"He's a private detective . . . I thought maybe I could find someone to solve my daughter's murder faster than your men," Ellington lied . . . he tapped his fingers on the table . . . I watched in pure horror . . . seeing the coolness in his eyes . . . the lack of respect for life . . . for others.
"Demani isn't a private detective . . . he makes it very well-known that he's a hit man . . . you want to see his confession where he spells out how you commissioned him to murder Dr. Cavanaugh and Detective Hoyt?" Eddie said as he pushed the confession towards Ellington . . . Demani decided to cooperate . . . he put down his guns peacefully . . . said that he would sing . . . anything we wanted to know about Ellington, "I don't think very highly of people trying to kill public servants."
"Well, I can assure that I thought he was a private detective," Ellington replied he took off his red silk neck tie . . . ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair . . . smiled at Eddie . . . his smile made my stomach turn.
"How did you pay him for his services?" Eddie asked.
"I didn't pay him yet . . . I just took him out to dinner to find out his progress," Ellington lied.
"Well, it appears as though you made out a personal check to him . . . one hundred thousand dollars . . . not to mention all the cash you gave him . . . the waitress told me all about that," Eddie replied smiling at him . . . he pushed a copy of the check towards Ellington. Lying appeared to second nature for him . . . it disgusted me.
"Are you trying to tarnish my good name? Isn't it bad enough that those twits Jacobson and Davidson extorted me . . . do you want to ruin me?" Ellington replied.
"You want to take a polygraph . . . that's if you have nothing to hide," Eddie offered.
"I want my lawyer," Ellington replied . . . he appeared to be shaken.
"Do you want to meet Detective Hoyt . . . maybe you could talk to him about how you hired someone to kill him and his girlfriend?" Eddie badgered . . . God, I didn't want to have to go into that room . . . I could feel my knees shaking . . . I could feel myself holding my breath . . . waiting for him to answer, "He's watching you right now . . . just wave at the glass . . . there's a person standing right back there."
"I'm not playing this game," Ellington replied . . . .quickly turning away from the mirror . . . trying to put this all into context . . . quickly figuring out that it wouldn't be easy to get of this situation.
"I don't really give a damn because every word in this confession is going to take you down . . . what kind of man kills his own daughter . . . let's his political staff rape and kill teenagers . . . tried to kill a cop and a public servant," Eddie kept going . . . pushing him harder and harder. Ellington was turning bright red . . . barely able to contain his anger.
"They deserved it . . . those damn greedy whores got what they deserved. My daughter was a dirty slut . . . all she wanted was money, so she could support her coke habit and screw whatever man walked down the street. Not during an election year . . . this shit wasn't going to fly . . . she knew that, but she pushed me. You people want me to clean up the streets and make Boston safer . . . I did what I needed to . . . I should get a damn medal for what I've done for Boston," Ellington screamed at Eddie.
"That doesn't make you a hero . . . it makes you a sick bastard," Eddie replied . . . he push a blank confession form and pen in front of Ellington . . . he got up and left the room . . . leaving Ellington with his thoughts.
"How you doing?" Eddie asked as he stood next to me . . . we watched Ellington pick up the pen . . . began to write . . . tell his story of murder and deceit.
"I should go home . . . he's not getting out is he?" I asked cautiously.
"No, there's no way any judge is going to let him make bail . . . I'll talk to the DA about getting him booked ASAP," Eddie said . . . he put a hand on my shoulder, "This is over . . . you and Jordan can move on with your lives."
Now I knew what freedom felt like.
Day 80: Jordan's Apartment – 11 pm
"Jord, Nigel," I called out as I walked into the apartment . . . it was pitch black . . . just the glow of the television illuminated the room.
"Long day at work," Jordan said . . . I could barely see her in the darkness.
"You could say that . . . we need to get to the Pogue . . . I don't want to keep Max and Garrett waiting," I said . . . trying to find the light switch.
"Aren't you tired? I'm not really feeling like going out," Jordan replied.
"I should get going, love," Nigel said yawning . . . he hadn't been expecting to stay so long.
"We need to go out and celebrate," I said . . . I finally found the light switch . . . turned it on . . . Nigel and Jordan were squinting in the sudden onslaught of light.
"What's to celebrate, Woodrow," Nigel said as he collected his jacket . . . rubbed his eyes.
"Ellington is spending his first night behind bars . . . the hit man is also going to be joining him. They both inked confessions this evening," I said . . . smiling . . . tears forming in my eyes . . . I had called Mom on the way home to tell her . . . she broke down in tears . . . she was so happy . . . she wanted to meet Jordan once she was healed . . . see what her daughter-in-law was like without the pain and suffering.
"Oh, Woody," Jordan said . . . not knowing what to say . . . just finding her way into my arms . . . I kissed the top of her head . . . I could feel her tears warm against my chest.
"So it's over?" Nigel asked suspiciously.
"It's over," I whispered . . . I'd never been happier to see a case closed.