Chapter 2 - The Shark in the Interrogation Room
The interrogation room at the 5th Precinct was small, claustrophobic, and smelled of stale coffee and industrial bleach.
Vanessa Kensington sat at the metal table, still wearing her beige cashmere coat. Her hair was slightly disheveled, but her posture was rigid with toxic arrogance. Beside her sat Arthur Vance, a high-priced criminal defense lawyer with slicked-back hair and a gold Rolex gleaming on his wrist.
“This entire arrest is a farce,” Vance declared, tapping his pen against a yellow notepad. “My client was accosted by an emotionally volatile woman on public property. Miss Kensington merely created space to protect herself.”
Detective Miller, a tired officer sitting across from them, sighed. “Mr. Vance, thirty witnesses saw your client extend both hands and shove an eight-month-pregnant woman down thirty stone steps.”
“Eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable—” Vance began.
The heavy door of the interrogation room clicked open.
Harrison Cole walked in.
He had not changed his clothes. His white dress shirt was still stained dark red across the chest and cuffs. He carried a single black leather briefcase, which he placed gently on the metal table before pulling out a chair and sitting down.
Arthur Vance’s face instantly paled. “Cole? What the hell are you doing here? This is an ongoing police interview. You have no standing—”
Harrison didn't look at Vance. He didn't look at Detective Miller. His eyes, cold and dark as midnight iron, locked entirely onto Vanessa Kensington.
Vanessa tried to hold his gaze, trying to maintain her polished, upper-class smirk, but the sight of Khloe’s blood dried across Harrison’s chest made her throat lock up.
“Harrison,” Vanessa stammered, her voice losing its edge. “I… I know you’re angry, but it wasn't what it looked like. Khloe was screaming at me! She grabbed my scarf! I just pushed her away—”
Harrison opened his briefcase. He pulled out a sleek tablet and laid it flat on the table, pressing play.
The high-definition courthouse security video lit up the dark room.
The camera angle was crystal clear, positioned directly above the grand archway. It showed Khloe standing motionless near the top step, hands gently folded over her swollen stomach, stepping backward to distance herself. It showed Vanessa charging forward, her face twisted in rage, locking both hands onto Khloe’s shoulders, and violently shoving her down the marble staircase.
The video captured Khloe’s body tumbling helplessly, hitting stone after stone, until she lay motionlessly at the bottom.
The silence in the interrogation room was suffocating.
Arthur Vance stared at the screen, his mouth slightly open, his hand freezing over his legal pad. The defense he had spent two hours crafting dissolved into dust in three seconds.
“That…” Vance cleared his throat nervously. “That footage is… subject to context—”
“Detective Miller,” Harrison spoke, his voice quiet, hypnotic, and devastating. “The crime depicted on this screen constitutes Attempted First-Degree Murder, Aggravated Assault on an Unborn Child, and Felony Battery resulting in Great Bodily Harm.”
“Harrison, please!” Vanessa gasped, panic finally breaking through her vanity. She reached across the table. “I’m pregnant too! Richard and I—we’re starting a family! You can’t do this to me!”
Harrison leaned forward slowly. He placed his hands flat on the cold steel table.
“You mock my sister’s miscarriages in text messages,” Harrison whispered, his eyes narrowing. “You spent two years sleeping in her bed while she wept on her bathroom floor. You helped my brother-in-law steal twenty-two million dollars from marital trusts. And today, you tried to murder her and her child on the steps of a court of law.”
“I didn't mean to!” Vanessa sobbed, real tears finally spilling down her cheeks as terror took hold. “Richard told me she wouldn't sign the settlement! He told me she was ruining our lives!”
“Detective Miller,” Harrison said, standing up and closing his briefcase. “If this woman is granted bail before midnight, I will personally file an emergency petition with the State Supreme Court citing judicial corruption against this precinct. She stays in a cell. No bail. No visitors.”
“Harrison!” Vanessa shrieked, jumping out of her chair as metal handcuffs clattered against her wrists. “Richard will fix this! Richard has judges in his pocket! You can’t destroy me!”
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Harrison stopped at the door. He turned his head slightly, looking back over his shoulder.
“Richard isn't coming to save you, Vanessa,” Harrison said softly. “Because by tomorrow morning, Richard won't even have a coat to keep himself warm.”
