The Confession
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Chapter 13
So one thing more important than finding the murder weapon was finding the shooter. They may have not found that person, but at least they have someone in custody who could possibly shed more light on this case.
Lupo was exiting the interrogation room when Mike and Connie had arrived.
"Hey," Lupo greeted them as they stood in front of the one-way mirror. Through the window of the interrogation room, they could see suspect Bolt Jackman sitting and waiting for the next set of interrogators. He was an imposing man, well over 6 feet five with biceps almost as wide.
"I should tell you," informed Lupo," This Bolt Jackman is a real character. He looks exactly like his name, mean and tough. But he turned himself in because he wants his freedom back."
"That's a new one," Mike commented, "So he wants his freedom back by going to prison?"
Lupo snorted, "Gotta love the irony of it all, but yeah. Says he's tired of dealing with bosses that tell him what to do."
"And he thinks the police won't do that?" Connie wondered.
"Jackman has been in and out of prison all his life, " explained Lupo, "he told me his time in the slammer had been the best times of his life. Ironically when he was in there, he was his own person and didn't have to answer to anyone. The prisoners, even the guards would leave him alone, go figure. He said, for him, prison was like a Club Med, or should I say, Club Fed," Lupo slightly grinned, "I don't think you'll have any trouble getting what you want from him."
"Did he have some valuable information to tell you?" Connie wondered.
Lupo rolled his eyes, "Let's just say he has one hell of a story! I think his motto is, 'if you can't convince them, confuse them!'"
"Then what are we waiting for?" Mike looked at Connie, "Confusing answers are better than none at all. At least we have a fighting chance."
When Mike and Connie entered the interrogation room, Bolt barely gave them a look as they took seats across from him.
The physical layout of the room was designed to maximize the discomfort and powerlessness of the person in custody. The room was soundproof as Bolt sat in a uncomfortable chair with only a table, blank walls and a one-way mirror for him to view.
After introductions, Bolt again waived his rights to counsel. He told Mike and Connie he wanted to work out a deal with the prosecution.
"We need to hear what you have to say, first, Mr. Jackman," Mike declared, "before we can even talk of a deal."
Bolt sat forward, folding both hands in front of him, ready to give the explanation.
"Okay, well you'll like what I have to say," Bolt began, "It all started when after his first divorce, Edward Brantley had married that looker Heather," Bolt made a face of distaste, "Edward eventually figured out she wouldn't stay true to him, so he had me follow her. I caught her several times in the company of that Larry Carson character at motels whenever husband was out of town."
Connie lifted her eyebrow at Mike..
"So Heather Brantley was stepping out with Larry Carson, Mr. Jackman?" Connie needed to verify that she heard right.
"Yeah," Bolt stated, "You got a problem with that?"
He seemed impatient.
"Go on, Mr. Jackman," Mike encouraged.
"Anyway, when Edward decided on this expedition to Mexico," continued Bolt, calmly, "she probably thought it would be the perfect opportunity to be with her lover all month."
"But, wait," Connie interrupted, "Didn't Heather follow her husband to Mexico?"
"Humph! You wish it was that easy!" Bolt stated, "The minute Edward took off for Mexico, Heather hightailed it over to the Starlite Motel. I told Edward I could go check on them, even stopped them, but he told me he would handle it."
"...And by handling it," Mike repeated, "he meant..."
"...he doublebacked, intent on confronting his wife with her lover at the motel," Bolt explained nonchalantly, "Edward thought he would play the part of the outraged husband and get Carson to sign some kind of confession so that Edward's future ex-wife wouldn't get half of his stuff."
"But it didn't turn out that way," Connie encouraged him.
"Naw, but it never does," Bolt sneered, "Anyway, Edward burst into the room with a gun; they started tussling. Unfortunately, the gun went off in the struggle, and Carson fell to the floor with the bullet in his head."
"And this is where you come in," Mike said, "the clean-up man."
"You got that right," Bolt acknowledged, "With Carson dead, Edward called my special number on his cellphone. After listening to the story, I told him to wait there. When I got there, Edward was shaking like a leaf. Heather was there, yapping away and I told her to shut up while I got her husband out of that seedy motel."
"And then you did what you are good at," Connie continued the flow, "which is being the trouble-shooter."
"Yup, that's right, little lady," he said, "Edward Brantley left in his rented car where he boarded the Brantley's private plane to Mexico. Meanwhile, I took the body out, tied it on my car and dragged the face off of it. Then I banged it so the head was smashed like an eggshell, and took it out and dumped it on the highway."
"So you were going to make it a random automobile hit?" Mike asked.
"Maybe, but the problem with that theory," Bolt said, "was the timing. I couldn't be sure if a random car driving on a highway would run over Carson's body before the police discovered the body. So Heather and I discussed what to do."
"And what did you two conclude?" Mike questioned.
"That we had to be sure he was hit and run over violently," Bolt explained, "But first we had to get out of there, especially since she was pretty shaken up. When we got to the estate, we found Tim already in bed, drunk as a skunk. And that's when we figured how to divert guilt from her."
"So she was the one who took out Tim's car the second time?" Mike continued his questioning.
"Oh yeah, it was easy, actually," verified Bolt, "we planted the dead body in the right place and then I had Heather run him over. Then she took the car back to the estate and we left a few clues scattered around, like putting the keys back in Tim's pocket."
Bolt looked proud as he concluded with, " Afterwards, I drove her to the bus station so she could join her husband in Mexico. Rather ironic that they hated each other but had to use each other as an alibi, isn't it?"
That left a bad taste in Connie's mouth, "So Heather Brantley was fine with her nephew being accused of a crime he obviously didn't do?" Connie's tone sounded disgusted.
"Hey, Tim is a direct bloodline of the Brantleys," Bolt suggested, "No way would he get convicted. They have dirty money to spread all over and there are too many holes in the story."
'Holes in the story' reminded Mike of the courtroom testimony, "Wait...the witness, Mary Harrison, who saw the car hit the body...she was a plant, wasn't she?"
"Of course,," Bolt looked directly at Mike, "You know how it is... people will do anything for money. Mary Harrison was unemployed with two young children. We gave her enough money for her to live and feed her and her kids for half a year!"
"You do realize," Mike said, "that the original prosecutor. Bill Anderson, was ready to convict Tim Brantley before I took over the case, it was only Mary Harrison's testimony that made me doubt Tim's guilt?"
Bolt didn't blink, "That's why we got you on the case, Cutter...the Brantleys didn't have the confidence that Anderson would picked up on the details."
"Are you implying..." interrupted Connie, "that Bill Anderson did not fall down the flight of stairs on accident?"
Bolt shrugged, "I'm the trouble shooter and I gotta do what I gotta do, right?"
Mike and Connie tried not to show how stunned they felt.
Bolt sat back, "So I gave you what you wanted, right? Let's get the ball rolling; I write out my confession, you put me away and you can move on to your next case. Easy peasy."
Connie looked at Mike and knew he was thinking the exact same thing she was.
"So," he concluded with a confident sneer, "Do we have a deal?"
"Not quite what we would call a deal, Mr. Jackman," Connie announced, "For now, we plan to charge you with obstruction of justice in an ongoing investigation."
Jackman's rough face looked angry, "The hell you say! Check it out! Everything I told you is the truth!"
"No, Mr. Jackman, it isn't," Mike said with certainty, "We know for a fact that your story could not have happened the way you've stated due to one major error in your story."
"Yeah? Which part?"
"The part regarding Larry Carson," Connie interjected, "you've stated that he was supposedly having an affair with Heather Brantley. But there was no way he was in that motel room that fateful night."
"Why the hell not?" Bolt looked as if he were ready to punch someone out.
"Because although you had no way of knowing this fact, " Mike declared, "according to the police, they have proof that Larry Carson had died two years earlier."
Mike and Connie exchanged frustrated looks.
Why would this Bolt Jackman tell such a preposterous story?
This was not a simple case at all.
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