Author's note: The interrogation wasn't going well — a deceased con man with mob connections, stolen money, and a widow who wasn't talking — the "good cop/bad cop" routine might not be enough to uncover this mystery.
"There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact."
― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Boscombe Valley Mystery
She was a pretty crier, for what it was worth. Even beneath the unforgiving florescent lights of the precinct's interrogation room — the ones that gave everyone the greenish pallor of a monster — Caroline Forbes-St. John looked like she'd just stepped away from a photo shoot. She emitted a defeated sigh, clutching a silk handkerchief in one hand and the chipped edge of the wobbly table in the other as though they anchored her in this moment. "I don't understand," she whispered softly, shaking her head until several blonde curls escaped from the sapphire pins.
Detective Klaus Mikaelson scoffed, his tone patronizing as he asked, "Do you need us to spell it out for you again, sweetheart? Your husband is DEAD. And when we ran his prints, we learned that Enzo St. John also is known as Tyler Lockwood, Stefan Salvatore, Jeremy Gilbert, Kai Parker, and a dozen or so other aliases."
"So...you think he was a spy or something," she asked tentatively, a tear clinging to the tip of her eyelashes.
Detective Matt Donovan's voice was gentle and possibly a touch too caring given the situation. "Not a spy, exactly, more like a..."
"A con man! You're trying to convince us that you were married to a bloody con man for more than a year and you had no idea?!" Detective Mikaelson sneered down at her, gray eyes glittering maliciously as he observed, "You're a terrible liar, sweetheart. You must rely on that pretty face to settle all your troubles, eh?"
Gone was the shell-shocked weeping widow. Blue eyes flashed dangerously as she snarled, "And you're a terrible cop if you think you can get a confession by calling me a whore."
Detective Donovan's eyes widened, and he threw his partner a stern look before he hastily told Caroline, "I promise, Ms. Forbes-St. John, no one thinks that. I mean, all evidence seems to indicate that you were just as much a victim as anyone else to your husband's schemes." When she bowed her head, her hands trembling slightly, the detective frowned, adding, "He obviously was a despicable man who saw a kind, innocent woman whose clean record would help him blend seamlessly into this latest con of his."
"Nonsense — that's just what she wants us to believe," Detective Mikaelson spat, studying her intently. "But you knew all about Enzo's plan to steal the Markos crime syndicate's money. You plotted with him, carefully laying the trap, but all the while intending to double-cross your late husband." Shaking his curly head, he spitefully told her, "You're a clever girl, but I'm onto you."
Caroline glared at the detective, angrily swiping at her damp cheeks as she venomously replied, "You know nothing about what we had. How dare you try to take that from me! We shared a life together. And I think — I hope — there was love as well. Whatever you say Enzo's done — that's not the man I knew. That wasn't the face he showed me."
Detective Donovan quickly nodded, his smile sympathetic as he said, "I'm sure that's true, Ms. Forbes-St. John. And please accept my condolences for your loss. Your husband's death was —"
"Brutally violent and excruciatingly painful," Detective Mikaelson interrupted, lips curling into a condescending smirk as he accused, "Which is exactly what you knew would happen when you tipped off the Markos crew that Enzo stole money from them."
He paused, allowing the uncomfortable silence to grow unbearably thick with tension. Whatever reaction he'd hoped to provoke went unanswered, and his scowl deepened the longer Caroline held her tongue. Suddenly, he slammed his palms on the table, seething with rage as he demanded, "Tell me where you hid the money!"
Caroline managed to glare at him through her tears, lips trembling as she hoarsely swore, "I don't know what you're talking about. Enzo and I lived comfortably, but I never saw the kind of money you're accusing him of stealing."
Carelessly waving off her protests with an impatient flick of his wrist, Detective Mikaelson snidely asked, "So, have you picked out the island you're fleeing to? Just remember — many islands have extradition treaties with the U.S., so choose wisely."
Again, both detectives were struck by the sudden ferocity she exuded as she flatly retorted, "No thanks — I'd prefer Montenegro."
"Wherever you go, I'll hunt you down sweetheart," Detective Mikaelson said with a threatening growl.
As Caroline visibly shrank away from his menacing scowl, Detective Donovan quickly barked, "That's enough, Klaus!" His tone softened as he turned to Caroline, helping her to her feet. "I apologize for your traumatic ordeal, Ms. Forbes-St. John. I'll be in touch if there's any further questions. You're free to go."
Caroline flashed him a grateful smile, giving the fuming Detective Mikaelson a wide berth as she exited the interrogation room. She shook her head, clearing trying to block out the vitriol of Detective Mikaelson's final warning, "It's only a matter of time before greedy bitches like you get what they deserve!"
The harvest must've been a good one, Caroline thought with a small smile, taking another sip of the locally-made rakija. It was one of the reasons why she'd been drawn to the estate in this tiny Medieval town in Montenegro. The gentle breeze rolling in from the Adriatic Sea made the gauzy curtains frolic along the wide stone balcony and she heaved a sigh, lamenting that it was almost perfect.
"Why the long face, sweetheart? Surely you're not still playing the grieving widow," Klaus observed, leaning against the marble column as he wore a knowing smirk.
Relief flashed across Caroline's face before she arranged herself more comfortably on the velvet-soft chaise. She replied wryly, "It would be a shade hypocritical since I plotted with my secret lover to kill my con man husband, frame the mob, and steal the money that he took from them."
His jaw fell open in mock horror, shaking his curly head as he said, "Secret lover? What tragic news — poor Matt will be heartbroken. He gave me quite the stern talking-to after your tearful departure." With an impish wink, he confessed, "He quite fancies you."
Wearing a cunning smile, Caroline tossed back her long curls, coyly replying, "Too bad I'm already spoken for."
With a delighted chuckle, Klaus eagerly swooped in and picked her up, twirling her in his arms as they kissed away the brief but cruel time they were forced to spend apart. When Klaus broke their kiss, he rested his forehead to hers, cheekily reminding her, "I told you I'd hunt you down, sweetheart."
