Chapter 7: The Case That Built Itself
Detective Marcia Okafor arrived at St.
Jude Medical Center at half past ten that morning.
She was forty-four, wore no jewelry except small gold studs in her ears, and carried a tablet instead of a notepad.
She had been with the Chicago PD financial crjmes unit for eleven years.
She did not waste time on pleasantries, which Gerald had always appreciated about her.
She sat in the chair beside Jonathan's bed, tablet open, and looked at him directly.
"Mr.
Mercer, I want to be clear about what we have and what we still need.
Can you walk me through the last six months from your perspective?"
Jonathan walked her through it.
The pills.
The gradual decline.
The cardiologist's verdict.
Victoria's confession in the room.
The envelope.
The forged documents.
Marcia listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she looked at her tablet.
"The pharmacy records Gerald sent me this morning confirm the over-collection of digoxin refills over a fourteen-month period.
That's consistent with what your cardiologist flagged this morning as the likely cause of your cardiac deterioration." She paused.
"We also ran the notary seal from the Milwaukee property transfer.
The seal number belongs to a woman named Diane Ferris, who surrendered her commission after a separate fraud investigation last year.
She has a prior connection to Raymond Calloway."
Jonathan's jaw tightened.
"He provided the forged notary."
"It appears so.
We're bringing him in this afternoon." Marcia set the tablet on her knee.
"Lucas Bennett's video is clean.
Audio is clear.
Combined with the recording from your phone, we have her making an explicit statement about the digoxin dosage and an explicit threat to increase it.
That moves this from financial fraud into a criminal threat category." She looked at him steadily.
"Depending on what the toxicology panel shows — and we've requested a full panel from your medical team this morning — this may rise to the level of attempted poisoning."
The word sat in the room.
"She'll have a lawyer by now," Jonathan said.
"She does.
She retained someone within forty minutes of leaving this building." Marcia almost smiled.
"Which tells us she knew exactly what she'd done." She stood.
"I'll need formal statements from both you and Lucas.
Gerald has already given his.
I'd also like the original phone with the recording — we'll make a certified copy and return it."
Lucas handed over the phone without being asked.
Marcia took it, placed it in an evidence bag, and sealed it.
At the door, she paused.
"Mr.
Mercer.
One more thing."
"Yes."
"The Hargrove law firm whose name appeared on that envelope — we contacted them this morning.
They have no record of any document prepared for Victoria Mercer.
Their name and letterhead were copied from a publicly available filing." She looked at him.
"She prepared that envelope herself.
She walked into your hospital room with a forged document and a pen, intending to get your signature while you were too weak to read what you were signing."
Jonathan said nothing.
"I want you to know," Marcia said, "that we take that seriously.
Whatever happens with the toxicology, the fraud and the coercion charges alone carry significant weight." She nodded once.
"Get some rest, Mr.
Mercer.
We'll be in touch."
She left.
The door closed behind her.
Gerald was already on his phone in the corner, speaking quietly to someone at his office.
Lucas sat back down in the chair beside the bed.
"Are you all right?" Lucas asked.
Jonathan looked at the window.
The morning light had strengthened.
Somewhere below, the city was going about its ordinary business — taxis, coffee, the ordinary Tuesday weight of lives that had no idea what was happening on the fourteenth floor of St.
Jude Medical Center.
"Four years," Jonathan said.
"I thought she was lonely sometimes.
I thought she was adjusting to a different kind of life than she'd had before.
I bought her things to make her feel settled." He paused.
"I never once thought she was counting the days."
"You trusted her," Lucas said.
"That's not a flaw."
"It nearly kjlled me."
"Nearly," Lucas said quietly.
"Not quite."
Jonathan looked at him.
Something in his expression shifted — the first thing that looked, in a very long time, like the beginning of relief.
Then Gerald lowered his phone and turned around.
"Jonathan.
Victoria's attorney just contacted mine."
May you like
Jonathan waited.
"She wants to make a deal."
