She’d already interviewed the gunshot victim, Niraj Bandhu, at the medical center in Panama City, and Royce Brady. Brady corroborated what Jolie had already surmised: that Maddy Akers had made her husband’s death look like a covered-up suicide, when in actuality it was a homicide.
Interesting how it unraveled. Royce had thought he and Amy had a thing going, but when he dropped in on her unexpectedly at the Royal Court Apartments, he found out about Niraj, Amy’s boyfriend.
“She set me up,” Royce told Jolie. “I didn’t even know what they were doing until I got to the room and saw him lying there dead.”
He told her Maddy was desperate to escape her bad marriage, that her husband had threatened to kill her.
The gunshot victim, Niraj, had known nothing about the scheme, but he did fill in a few blanks. He told Jolie about the five thousand dollars Amy said she’d be getting soon. Amy told him it was money from a dead uncle. She told Niraj that as soon as she got the money, she’d move in with her cousin in Baton Rouge. He could stay or go—up to him. When she got the money, she’d be gone. She’d rented a U-Haul and had started to move the furniture.
The image of Maddy Akers searching the brush at pond after pond looking for guns and cell phones made Jolie laugh out loud. Despite the fact she’d been fooled, she couldn’t help but admire the way Maddy’s mind worked.
The two of them, beating their way through the bushes—what a show. Wherever Maddy had thrown the weapons, she would never have taken Jolie to the spot.
It was clear Maddy knew about Danny’s suicide. It was common knowledge. She’d used Jolie’s own feelings about her husband’s suicide against her.
The theory was this: Amy lured Chief Akers to the motel, and Maddy snuck up on him and shot him point-blank. In one inspired stroke, Maddy deflected attention away from the act of homicide by making it appear to be a covered-up suicide, eliminating the spouse as primary suspect in the bargain. Not only that, but she’d provided a viable explanation for any trace evidence she might have left at the scene.
It was a brilliant, audacious plan.
But Maddy’s scheme fell apart, as brilliant schemes often did, when she relied on the wrong people.
Amy Perdue looked small and childlike, her limp red hair concealing half her face.
Jolie led her through the confrontation with Royce Brady. As the injured party, Amy was cooperative. She was the wronged woman, a victim of domestic violence.
“No idea why he was so angry?”
“No. It was like he had a crush on me or something. It was crazy. He said really crazy things.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, just crazy stuff. He was paranoid. Like a paranoid schizophrenic. Why? What did you hear?”
“You work for Maddy, right?”
“Uh-huh. Did—” She stopped.
“Did what?”
“Nothing. Can I go now?”
“Just a few questions and we’re through.” Jolie smiled.
“Okay. It’s just, I’m really tired and it’s been so scary and I want to see Niraj. I want to see if he’s okay. Is he all right?”
“Niraj is fine.” Jolie leaned forward so their legs were almost touching. “Amy, was Maddy afraid of her husband?”
Jolie noticed that every time Amy got nervous, the leg crossed over her knee bounced. Right now Amy’s legs were going like a jackhammer. “How would I know?”
“Royce said you were worried about Maddy Akers because her husband beat her. He even threatened to kill her.”
“Is that what Royce said? She did mention something about that.”
“So Maddy thought he was going to kill her?”
“That’s what she told me.”
“Thing is,” Jolie said, “Royce said that you and Maddy planned to kill Chief Akers and make it look like a suicide. He said you asked him for help because the chief was beating his wife and he threatened to kill her.”
“That’s bullshit!” Her legs shook so much, the one on top slid off, hitting the floor with a smack.
“Is it? He went into a lot of detail.”
Amy kept quiet, but Jolie saw something in her eyes. More than worry—the beginnings of panic.
“You know what I think?” Jolie said. “Maddy’s a bad influence on people. Telling Royce that her husband wanted to kill her. That wasn’t even true, was it?”
Amy concentrated on the table.
“Maddy lied to Royce. I bet she lied to you, too. It sounds to me like she used you. She told you she was afraid for her life. I can understand you’d be sympathetic—it’s not easy being a woman. Domestic violence isn’t taken seriously, is it? Men threaten their wives, and you just know some day they’re going to do it. It happens all the time. So I can see how you’d believe her. Why wouldn’t you believe her?”
Amy opened her mouth to say something. Stopped.
Jolie said, “To me, that’s just plain self-defense. If my husband told me he was going to kill me, I surely would try to kill him first. I’m not going to wait there like a sitting duck.”
Amy took a deep breath. Said in a small voice: “She told me he hired a hit man to kill her. He said it could happen any time. She was terrified.”
“And you believed her. Who wouldn’t?”
“If I told you what she did, what would happen to me? I mean, what kind of deal would I get? Would I have to do jail time?”
“Amy, if Maddy lied to you about her husband wanting to kill her, if she used you, that would be a mitigating circumstance. If you’re forthcoming about this, I could talk to the state attorney, see what he thinks…”
She looked relieved. She wanted to talk.
Here we go.
“What if I had something to trade?”
“Trade?”
“So I wouldn’t have to do jail time.”
“That’s up to the state attorney.”
“What if I knew about something…” She twisted her hair. “You know, something bigger?”
Jolie stared at her.
“Something really huge.”
Jolie said, “You’re going to have to tell me more about it.”
“If we can work out a deal, if you can promise me I won’t go to jail, I’ll tell you.”
“I can’t make that promise.”
“Then I’m not telling.”
“Amy—”
“Do you have a safe house?”
A safe house. Jolie realized something big was happening. It was time to talk to the state attorney. She stood up. “I’ve got to go to the little girl’s room. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She opened the door and collided with her detective sergeant, Skeet.
It was not a pleasant experience. He shoved her back a little, hands clamped on her forearms, his bovine face blocking out the fluorescents above like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon. “Whoa there, you in a hurry?”
He looked beyond her. “That Amy Perdue you got in there?” He leaned in through the doorway and spoke directly to Amy. “Ma’am? Amy Perdue? Your lawyer said to tell you he’s on his way.”
Jolie’s disbelief turned quickly to anger as she realized what had happened. She looked back at Amy—who was as surprised as she was.
Amy didn’t have a lawyer. Correction: she didn’t know she had a lawyer. Jolie stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her, and said to Skeet, “What are you doing?” She didn’t know whether he understood the ramifications of his action or not. Skeet was dumb, but he also had a perverse streak.
Skeet’s mouth turned up slightly at the corner. It made him look even dumber. “You’re going to have to be clearer than that.”
“How’s this for clear?” Jolie said. “You just shut my interrogation down.”