…
Miss Duvernay, Fremont gestured for her to go into the kitchen, away from the body.
I need to ask you a few questions.
The kitchen was clean, everything in its place.
A lone cup in the sink was the last morning coffee Miriam had drunk before she died.
How long have you been working for Judge Covington? Fremont asked when Talisha sat down at the table.
3 years.
I came right after law school.
She was she was a mentor to me.
Talisha clenched her fists trying to hold back tears.
Did you notice anything unusual about her behavior lately? Talisha thought for a moment.
About 2 months ago, she became more withdrawn.
We used to discuss cases after work, but then she started leaving right after work.
And then there were these strange breaks.
What breaks? She never took breaks during the day, but in the last few months she started disappearing for an hour or so without saying where she was going.
I thought maybe she was seeing a doctor.
Talisha suddenly fell silent realizing something.
Was she ill? Fremont decided not to reveal the diagnosis yet.
We’re looking into all the circumstances.
Do you know if Judge Covington was seeing anyone outside of work? Miriam? Talisha shook her head.
She was completely immersed in her work.
She sometimes had dinner with colleagues, but those were always formal gatherings.
Although What? About a month ago, I walked into her office without knocking.
She had a visitor, a young man I had never seen before.
They fell silent when I entered.
Miriam introduced him as Mr.
Smiders, who was consulting us on the ex-convict rehabilitation program.
Fremont tensed.
Could you describe this man? About 30 years old, well-built, attractive.
He spoke very confidently for an ex-convict.
He had such charisma.
You know, not everyone can talk so casually with a judge.
And the judge? How did she behave with him? Talisha frowned.
Now that you mention it she seemed tense.
Not like she usually is with visitors.
And then she asked me not to mention this meeting in her schedule.
Fremont made a note in his notebook.
Devon Smiders definitely required special attention.
When Talisha left, one of the detectives called Fremont over to the judge’s computer.
Detective, take a look at the browser history.
She frequently visited websites about HIV infection.
And this he pointed to the inbox.
Correspondence with someone named DS through a temporary email account.
The last message was 3 days ago.
We need to talk seriously.
What happened between us was a mistake, but what you did is unforgivable.
I’m still going to get justice.
Print out all the correspondence, Fremont ordered.
And check the phone calls.
While the forensic experts continued their work Fremont returned to the living room.
Something caught his eye on the bookcase, a small notebook that had fallen out of a stack of books.
He put on a fresh pair of gloves and carefully picked it up.
Inside were dates and initials.
The last entry was dated yesterday afternoon.
DS 2130.
Below, in hasty handwriting, was written, “He knew.
He knew all along.
” Fremont closed the notebook and handed it over for closer examination.
The picture was beginning to become clear.
Judge Miriam Covington, respected and strict, had a secret relationship with former prisoner Devon Smythers, whom she herself had convicted.
And then she found out that he had infected her with HIV.
“Sir,” a young officer interrupted his thoughts.
“We checked out this Smythers.
He was convicted 6 months ago by Judge Covington for drug possession and distribution.
He got the minimum sentence of 8 months, but was released on parole 3 months ago for good behavior.
” “Where is he now?” “According to his records, he lives at the New Way Rehabilitation Center on the east side of town.
” “Let’s go there,” Fremont decided.
“But first, call the center and find out if he’s there.
” When they stepped outside, the rain had stopped, but heavy clouds still hung over the city.
Fremont looked at Judge Covington’s house.
A life devoted to law and justice had been cut short so cruelly and absurdly because of a secret passion for the man she was supposed to judge.
The call from the rehabilitation center caught him in his car.
“Detective Fremont?” “Devon Smythers left the center last night around 8:00 and hasn’t returned yet.
” Morning light filtered weakly through the window of Leroy Fremont’s office.
The detective had been pouring over Miriam Covington’s case files for 3 hours.
Folders containing court transcripts, which he had obtained through an emergency request, were piled high on his desk.
He was particularly interested in the cases the judge had handled over the past year.
Fremont rubbed his sore eyes.
The sleepless night was taking its toll, but he couldn’t stop.
The judge’s murder had shaken the entire city.
His superiors were demanding results, the press was besieging the station, and he had only one lead, Devon Smythers, who was still at large.
Smythers’ file lay open in front of him.
An ordinary street drug dealer caught red-handed selling cocaine.
His third arrest should have guaranteed a serious punishment.
But instead of the expected three to five years in prison, Judge Covington sentenced him to only eight months with the possibility of parole if he participated in a rehabilitation program.
And this was despite the prosecutor’s objections.
“What made you do that, Miriam?” Fremont muttered, studying the court transcript.
There was a knock at the door.
A young female police officer entered the office with a folder of documents.
“Sir, I checked Judge Covington’s previous sentences as you requested.
Here are the comparative statistics for the last five years.
” Fremont took the printouts and poured over the numbers.
The picture was telling.
Until last year, Miriam Covington had been considered one of the strictest judges in the county, especially in drug cases.
But in recent months, her sentences had become significantly more lenient, and the Smythers case was no exception.
“Something happened,” said Fremont.
“Some kind of turning point in her life or world view, or” He didn’t finish his thought.
There was another knock at the door, and this time his partner, Detective Paulson, entered.
“I spoke with her former colleagues at the District Attorney’s Office,” he reported.
“Before becoming a judge, Covington worked as an Assistant District Attorney for 15 years.
Everyone describes her as a workaholic, principled, and even harsh.
Her personal life is practically nonexistent.
Her husband died eight years ago of a heart attack, and she has no children.
After his death, she threw herself even more or her work.
” “What about friends, close friends? Not many, mostly professional contacts.
A couple of friends from college, but they live in other states.
Her mother is in a nursing home in a neighboring town and suffers from dementia.
Covington visited her twice a month.
Fremont nodded.
The image of Judge Covington became clearer.
A woman who had devoted herself to her career in justice and over time found herself in an emotional vacuum.
Perhaps that was what made her vulnerable to manipulation.
Any news on Smeiters? Nothing yet.
We’ve checked all his known associates, but he’s gone off the grid.
However, there is something interesting about his past.
Before his arrest, he worked as a bartender at a small nightclub called the Blue Lotus.
The owner of the club is a man named Lafferty, also with a criminal record, but it’s old from 10 years ago.
Blue Lotus? Fremont frowned.
That’s only a couple of blocks from the courthouse.
Check if the club has had any trouble with the law lately.
Already did, clean, at least officially.
But there are rumors of drug dealing in the back rooms.
Just nothing that could be proven.
Fremont stood up and put on his jacket.
Let’s go to Talisha Duvernay.
We need to talk to Covington’s assistant again.
Then we’ll check out that club.
Talisha Duvernay lived in a small apartment in a middle-class high-rise.
The girl’s eyes were red from crying when she opened the door to the detectives.
Sorry to bother you, Ms.
Duvernay, said Fremont.
We need to ask you a few more questions.
Talisha silently let them in.
The living room was neat and modest, like a student’s.
I was thinking about our last meeting with Miriam, she said, sitting down in an armchair.
It was the day before yesterday.
She seemed very upset, even frightened.
I’ve never seen her like that before.
Did she say anything? Was she worried about anything? She asked me if I believed that people could change radically.
I thought she was talking about some defendant and I said something general about the justice system and rehabilitation, but she shook her head and said something strange.
Sometimes we only see what we want to see and we pay too high a price for it.
Fremont and Paulson exchanged glances.
Ms.
Duvernay, you mentioned that Judge Covington had started taking more breaks during the work day.
Do you know where she went? Talisha shrugged.
I’m not sure, but once I saw her leaving a cafe across the street from the courthouse.
She wasn’t alone.
She was with that man, Smeiters.
I happened to be there running in for coffee.
They were sitting in the far corner talking animatedly about something.
When Miriam saw me, she immediately stopped talking.
How did Smeiters act? Confident.
Too confident for someone talking to the judge who sentenced him.
At one point, he even touched her hand and she didn’t pull away.
Fremont made a note in his notebook.
This detail confirmed his suspicions.
Do you know if Judge Covington frequented any nightclubs? For example, the Blue Lotus? Talisha raised her eyebrows in surprise.
Miriam in a nightclub? That’s impossible.
She always said she couldn’t stand those places, although the girl hesitated.
What? About a month ago, I found a business card for that club in her desk.
I didn’t think anything of it at the time.
After talking to Talisha, the detectives headed to the city hospital.
The request for Judge Covington’s medical records had already been approved by the prosecutor.
An elderly woman in a white coat was waiting for them in the chief physician’s office.
Dr. Henderson, she introduced herself.
I personally treated Judge Covington.
Here are her records as you requested.
Fremont opened the folder.
Miriam Covington had come to the hospital a month and a half ago with complaints of constant fatigue and vague symptoms.
Standard tests were performed, including an HIV test.
The result was positive, confirmed by a repeat test a week later.
“Did she know about her diagnosis?” Fremont asked.
“Yes, I told her the results myself 3 weeks ago.
She was shocked.
She said it was impossible.
Then she asked me to keep the diagnosis confidential.
” “Did she say anything about how she might have been infected?” “No.
But the doctor hesitated.
“I’ve been working with HIV-positive patients for many years.
Usually, people understand immediately where the infection came from.
Misunderstanding or denial of the possible source is rare.
In Judge Covington’s case, it seemed exactly like that.
As if she couldn’t believe that someone she trusted could have infected her.
” On the way to the Blue Lotus Club, Fremont pondered the information he had received.
The picture was grim.
Miriam Covington, a woman with an impeccable reputation, had entered into a relationship with an ex-convict, possibly at a time of emotional vulnerability or loneliness.
And when she found out about her diagnosis, she realized that he had infected her intentionally or knowing his status.
“What do you think, Paulson?” he asked his partner.
“I think this Smeiters is a cold-blooded manipulator.
He gained the judge’s trust, got his sentence reduced, and then took revenge in the most brutal way possible.
” Fremont shook his head.
“It doesn’t add up.
If he wanted revenge, why continue the relationship after his release? And then, according to the surveillance footage, Smeiters wasn’t in the judge’s house at the time of the murder.
There’s something else here.
The Blue Lotus was located in the basement of an old building.
The club was closed during the day, but the service entrance was open.
Inside, workers were preparing the hall for the evening, setting up tables and wiping down the bar.
“Police.
” Fremont showed his badge to a large, balding man who was supervising the work.
We’re looking for the owner, Mr.
Lafferty.
Mandy’s in his office.
The man pointed to a door at the back of the room, but he doesn’t like to be disturbed during the day.
We’ll have to wait.
Fremont replied dryly.
Mandus Lafferty’s office was more like a luxurious living room with leather sofas, an antique table, and expensive paintings on the walls.
The owner himself, a thin man in his 40s with a neat beard and an expensive suit, was talking on the phone.
When he saw the detectives, he quickly ended the conversation.
To what do I owe the police a visit? He asked with a slight smile, but his eyes remained wary.
We’re investigating the murder of Judge Miriam Covington, said Fremont, watching Lafferty’s reaction closely.
The smile instantly vanished from the man’s face.
Tragic.
He said after a pause.
I heard the news, but how can I help? We’re looking for Devon Smythers.
He worked for you as a bartender before he was arrested.
Lafferty nodded.
He was a good worker.
The customers liked him, especially the women.
The guy had a way with people.
Have you kept in touch with him since his release? Of course.
I always help my former employees.
Devon stopped by a couple of times last week.
Was he here last night? Lafferty paused.
No, I didn’t see him yesterday.
Why? Is he a suspect? We just want to talk to him, Fremont replied evasively.
If he shows up, contact us immediately.
As they were heading for the exit, Fremont noticed a surveillance camera in the corner of the office.
Mr.
Lafferty, do you have any footage from last night? Of course.
We keep all recordings for a month.
We’d like to see them.
Lafferty frowned, but nodded.
In the next room was a small security station with monitors.
With the push of a a Lafferty brought up the recording from the previous evening.
The screen flashed with images of club patrons dancing, drinking, and socializing.
At 10:30 pm, the camera at the service entrance recorded a tall man in a dark jacket entering the building.
“That’s Devon,” Lafferty confirmed.
“But I didn’t see him.
He must have come in for just a minute.
” Sure enough, 5 minutes later, Smiter’s left the club through the same service entrance, but Fremont noticed an important detail.
Before leaving, he exchanged a few words with Lafferty, even though Lafferty had just claimed he hadn’t seen him.
“Mr.
Lafferty,” Fremont’s voice became harsher.
“You just lied to a federal officer.
I can see on the recording that you were talking to Smiter’s.
” Lafferty turned pale.
“I forgot.
It was a busy day yesterday with a lot of people around.
He did come in, but only for a minute.
” “What did you talk about?” “He asked if anyone had called for him.
I said no.
” Fremont didn’t believe a word, but decided not to press the issue.
Instead, he left his business card and asked to be contacted if Smiter’s showed up again.
Leaving the club, Fremont turned to Paulson.
“Put someone on Lafferty.
He’s clearly hiding something and knows where Smiter’s is.
” Fremont spent the next 12 hours coordinating surveillance of the club and its owner.
By nightfall, his efforts paid off.
Lafferty left the club around midnight and headed not for home, but for a motel on the outskirts of town.
“He went into room 18,” reported the surveillance agent.
“He stayed there for about 20 minutes, then left.
” With an emergency warrant, Fremont and his backup team broke into the motel room.
Devon Smiter’s was not there, but there were clear signs of his recent presence.
An uneaten dinner, his favorite brand of cigarettes, and a package from a new prepaid mobile phone card.
“Damn, Lafferty warned him,” Fremont cursed.
“Search everything thoroughly.
” In the trash can, they found scraps of letters.
Putting them together, Fremont was able to read part of the correspondence between Smighters and Judge Covington.
The letters were personal, intimate.
In one of them, Miriam wrote about how meeting Devon had changed her life, made her see the justice system in a new light, and given her a second chance.
But the last letter, dated just a week earlier, was completely different in tone.
I found out the truth.
You used me from the very beginning.
All your words, all your promises were lies.
You knew about your illness and deliberately put me at risk.
This is not just betrayal, it’s a crime.
I won’t let you get away with it.
Next to the trash can, Fremont found a crumpled page from a medical chart.
The results of an HIV test taken before Smighters was arrested.
Positive.
The date was almost a year ago.
So that’s it.
Fremont muttered.
He knew about his diagnosis all this time.
He knew and deliberately infected her.
In another corner of the room, under the bed, they found an old laptop.
The expert quickly cracked the password.
The personal folder contained dozens of photos of Judge Covington, taken with a hidden camera on the street, in cafes, even in her own home.
There was also a whole correspondence that left no doubt about the nature of the relationship between the judge and the former prisoner.
This isn’t just an affair, said Fremont looking through the letters.
This was an operation.
He hunted her down, planned every step.
First, he won her favor, then he used that to get her sentence reduced, and then he didn’t finish his sentence.
Among Smighters incoming emails was a letter from Miriam, sent the day before her death.
Tomorrow at 9:30 pm my house.
I want to hear the truth from you personally before I go to the police.
What you did is unforgivable, but you have a chance to at least partially redeem yourself with a sincere confession.
Fremont closed the laptop and handed it to the experts for further examination.
Now he knew for sure that Devon Smythers had been at the judge’s house on the night of the murder.
But was he the killer? Suddenly his phone rang.
It was Paulson.
“We picked up Lafferty on his way back to the club.
” his partner reported.
“He confessed to helping Smythers hide, but swears he doesn’t know where he is now.
” “And here’s something else interesting.
Lafferty claims that Smythers wasn’t alone at the club last night.
He was with a woman.
” Detective Leroy Fremont sat in the interrogation room sorting through photos from the crime scene.
He hadn’t slept properly in 3 days, but adrenaline and coffee kept him going.
Behind the glass in the next room was Mandus Lafferty, frightened and ready to cooperate.
So, Fremont entered the interrogation room and sat down opposite Lafferty.
“Tell me about the woman who was with Smythers yesterday.
” Lafferty nervously licked his lips.
“I saw her briefly.
Young, slim.
They were talking loudly.
” “What were they talking about?” “I didn’t hear.
But she looked angry.
When they left, I asked the bartender if he knew her.
He said he’d seen her in the courthouse before.
” Fremont froze.
“In the courthouse? Someone connected to the justice system?” His thoughts immediately turned to Talisha Duvernay, the judge’s assistant.
“Can you identify her?” Lafferty shrugged.
“Maybe.
She was wearing a hood, but I saw her face.
” Fremont placed several photos of female court employees in front of him.
Lafferty’s finger pointed to Talisha without hesitation.
“That’s her.
I’m 100% sure.
” After the interrogation, Fremont gathered his team.
Photos of all the people involved in the case and a timeline of events were posted on a whiteboard.
“Let’s reconstruct the picture.
” he began.
“Miriam Covington, a respected judge, enters into a relationship with the defendant, Devon Smiders.
Under his influence, she hands down an unusually lenient sentence.
After his release, they continue to meet secretly.
Then she learns that he infected her with HIV, knowing full well about his status.
She arranges a meeting with him to sort things out before going to the police.
“Where does Talisha Duvernay fit into this story?” asked Paulson.
“That’s the key question.
” Fremont tapped the photo of the young assistant with his pen.
“She was seen with Smiders the night before the murder.
Why?” He glanced at his watch.
It was early morning, but delay could cost them the trail.
“Get a search warrant for Duvernay’s apartment and find me that woman.
” An hour later, it became clear that Talisha had not shown up for work and was not answering her phone.
Her cell phone was turned off.
By noon, a team with a warrant broke down the door to her apartment.
Inside, everything had been turned upside down as if someone had been searching for something or gathering their belongings in a hurry.
In the bedroom, there was a half-packed bag of clothes on the bed.
“She was planning to run.
” Paulson stated.
In the trash can, Fremont found the charred remains of photographs.
In one of the surviving fragments, Talisha and Devon could be seen embracing each other.
“What a twist.
” Fremont muttered.
“She didn’t just know Smiders, they were together.
” On the kitchen table lay a notebook with addresses.
One of them was circled in red, an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town.
“Bingo.
” Fremont grabbed the notebook.
“Let’s go there.
” “Call for backup.
” On the way, he mentally pieced together the events.
If Talisha and Devon were lovers, what connected them to the judge’s murder? Revenge for her relationship with Smiders or something more complicated? The warehouse looked abandoned, but a beat-up sedan was parked at the back entrance.
Fremont and his team surrounded the building.
Through a broken window, they could see two figures arguing heatedly.
Police! Fremont shouted, bursting inside with his weapon at the ready.
Hands where I can see them.
Talisha and Devon froze.
She looked frightened.
He looked determined.
Nobody move! Fremont ordered as the other officers searched the room.
You are both under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Miriam Covington.
At the station, they were taken to separate interrogation rooms.
Fremont started with Talisha.
She seemed more vulnerable.
We know that you and Smiter’s were together, he began, placing the charred fragments of photographs in front of her.
And we know you saw him on the night Judge Covington was murdered.
Talisha lowered her eyes.
She looked exhausted and frightened.
It was all him, she whispered.
It was his plan from the beginning.
Tell us everything, starting from the beginning, Fremont asked gently.
Talisha took a deep breath.
I met Devon a year ago at the Blue Lotus Club.
I just went there for a drink with my friends.
He was charming and attentive.
We started seeing each other secretly because I was afraid Miriam wouldn’t approve.
She always said that professional reputation was everything.
Go on.
When Devon was arrested, I was desperate, but he said he knew how to get out quickly.
He said that she faltered.
That Judge Covington was lonely and vulnerable.
That he could charm her the way he charmed me.
And you agreed? Fremont couldn’t hide his surprise.
No! Talisha exclaimed.
I was against it, but he insisted it would just be a game to get a lighter sentence.
I didn’t know it would go this far.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
When I found out they really that he she couldn’t find the words.
I was beside myself.
And then it got even worse.
He confessed that he had infected her with HIV on purpose.
Why did he do that? Revenge.
Talisha replied simply.
Her sentence in Devon’s first case 3 years ago was as harsh as it could have been.
His older brother died in prison from lack of medical care.
Devon blamed the system and Judge Covington in particular.
Fremont made a note.
So, this wasn’t Smiter’s first encounter with Judge Covington.
The story was getting deeper and more complicated.
What happened on the night of the murder? I found out that Miriam had arranged to meet Devon.
She was going to go to the police.
She had proof that he knew about his diagnosis.
I went to his place and begged him to confess everything.
We had a terrible fight and he left.
I I just wanted to stop him.
Fremont looked at her intently.
Something didn’t add up in her story.
Did you go to Judge Covington’s house that night? Talisha remained silent, her head bowed.
Talisha.
Fremont said sternly.
We have footage from a camera in a neighboring house.
At 10:15 pm you entered the judge’s house.
What happened? There was a long pause.
I wanted to warn her, Talisha finally said, to tell her that Devon was dangerous, but she already knew.
She showed me the test results, the documents she had collected.
She said she would see it through to the end, that he would pay for everything.
I begged her to give him a chance, told her I loved him, that I would help him change.
She laughed in my face.
She said people like him couldn’t be changed, that he was a monster who had used both of us.
And then you took the knife? Fremont asked quietly.
No.
Talisha looked at him in horror.
No, I left.
I was upset, angry, but I didn’t kill her.
I swear on my life.
Fremont left her alone with the lawyer and went to the next interrogation room where Devon Smiter’s was waiting, calm and even slightly smiling, as if he found the whole situation amusing.
“Mr.
Smythers,” Fremont began, “do you know what you’re suspected of?” “The murder of a judge who, by strange coincidence, died the same night we were supposed to meet,” Devon replied, still smiling.
“But I have an alibi, Detective.
I was with a friend at a bar on the other side of town.
There are cameras there.
” “What friend?” “Mandy Lafferty can confirm it.
” Fremont snorted.
“Lafferty already gave his statement.
He saw you leave the club at 10:30.
You would have had plenty of time to get to the judge’s house by the appointed time.
” Smythers’ smile faded a little.
“I changed my mind and didn’t go to the meeting.
” “Do you know that Talisha has confessed to everything?” Fremont bluffed.
“She told us how you planned it all from the beginning.
Revenge for your brother’s sentence, seducing the judge, deliberate HIV infection, and finally murder when she decided to go to the police.
” “Talisha doesn’t know anything,” Smythers snapped.
“She was just part of the plan, a useful idiot.
” “So there was a plan after all?” Smythers bit his tongue, realizing he had fallen for the simplest of tricks.
“I wanted revenge, yes.
” he finally admitted.
“Because of that my brother died in prison.
She wouldn’t let him be transferred to a hospital, even though he had a serious heart condition.
She said he was faking it.
” “So you decided to infect her?” “It was poetic justice.
” Smythers grinned.
“Let her live knowing that death is slowly consuming her from the inside, just like my brother.
” “And that’s why you killed her when she decided to expose you?” “I didn’t kill her.
” Smythers raised his voice for the first time.
“Why would I kill her? The revenge had only just begun.
I wanted her to suffer for years, watching her life and reputation crumble.
Death would have been too easy a release.
Fremont watched him closely.
Smythers didn’t look like a man who was lying, more like someone who enjoyed his cruelty.
“If not you, then who?” asked Fremont.
“Talisha?” Smythers laughed.
“Talisha? She wouldn’t hurt a fly.
She was in love with me, yes.
She was willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things, but murder? That girl faints at the sight of blood.
” “Then who?” “I have no idea, Detective.
” Smythers leaned back in his chair.
“Maybe the strict judge had more enemies than you think.
” After the interrogations, Fremont returned to his office.
Something continued to bother him.
He laid out the chronology of events again, reviewed all the evidence and reports from the crime scene.
His attention was drawn to the report on the results of the examination of Miriam Covington’s laptop.
In the personal folder, he found not only documents against Smythers, but also strange correspondence with an unknown addressee dated several months before she met Devon.
Fremont opened the printouts of the letters.
It was a personal, emotional correspondence between Miriam and someone she referred to simply as T.
They looked like love letters interspersed with discussions of some problems at work.
In one of the last letters, Miriam wrote, “I’m so tired of hiding our relationship.
I understand your fear for your career, but we can’t hide forever.
You mean more to me than anyone has in years.
I’m willing to risk everything for us.
” “T? Talisha?” Fremont quickly returned to the interrogation room, where Talisha Duvernay was still sitting.
“You were in a relationship with Judge Covington,” he said without preamble.
Talisha flinched.
“What? No, I Don’t lie to me, Talisha.
We have your correspondence.
‘I’m so tired of hiding our relationship,’ he quoted.
Talisha covered her face with her hands.
“It was a long time ago,” she whispered.
“Over a year ago.
I admired her.
She was my mentor.
One late night at work, a bottle of wine.
We were together for a few months, but then I met Devon.
” “And you left her for him?” “Yes.
” Talisha swallowed.
“She was devastated.
She said I had betrayed her, that she would never forgive me.
She was right, as it turned out.
” “What happened when you found out that Devon had seduced Miriam? You must have been jealous.
” “At first, yes,” Talisha admitted.
“But then I realized he was just using her, using both of us.
You didn’t tell Miriam that you knew about their relationship?” “No, I couldn’t.
That would have meant admitting that I was with Devon, that I brought him into her life.
” Fremont’s mind was racing.
Suddenly, he saw a new version of events.
“You didn’t come that night to warn her, did you?” he asked quietly.
“You came to tell her that you knew Devon before he was arrested, that you were the one who set him up with her in the first place, to get back at her for leaving you.
But then, it got out of control.
” Talisha sat motionless, tears streaming down her face.
“I didn’t want her to get hurt,” she said barely audibly.
“Not like that.
I just wanted her to feel the pain she caused me.
When I found out that Devon was sick and knew about it, I went to her to tell her everything, to confess my role, to beg for forgiveness.
” “And what happened?” “She was different, cold, harsh.
She said she never loved me, that I was just entertainment, an experiment.
Then she laughed and said it was funny how things had turned out.
Now she was infected with a deadly disease because of my pathetic attempt at revenge.
She said I had ruined not only her life, but mine, too.
That she would make sure I never worked in law again.
” And you got angry? I I don’t remember, Talisha muttered.
It’s all a blur.
She kept saying horrible things, that she used me, that Devon used me, that I was a nobody who was easily manipulated.
I grabbed the knife just to scare her, to make her shut up.
And then she fell silent, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
I didn’t want to kill her, I swear, but she kept laughing saying I wasn’t even capable of it.
I don’t remember how many times I hit her.
Just at some point I realized she wasn’t moving and I was covered in blood.
Fremont exhaled slowly.
All the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place.
What happened next? I panicked.
I wiped the knife, everything I had touched.
I called Devon.
He told me to run, said he would help me hide.
I didn’t know he just wanted to use me again.
A few hours later, all the formalities were settled.
Talisha Duvernay was arrested on charges of murdering Judge Miriam Covington.
Devon Smiters was arrested for intentionally infecting her with HIV and for aiding and abetting after the crime.
That evening, as he filled out his final reports, Fremont reflected on the tragedy he had unravelled.
Love, betrayal, revenge, the eternal triangle of human passions that had led to death.
Three months later, he attended the sentencing hearing.
Talisha Duvernay was found guilty of second-degree murder and sentenced to 20 years in prison.
Devon Smiters received 15 years for intentionally infecting someone with HIV and concealing the crime.
Mandus Lafferty received two years probation for aiding and abetting a criminal.
As he left the courtroom, Fremont bumped into an elderly woman, Miriam Covington’s mother.
In a rare moment of lucidity, she had learned of her daughter’s death and had come to the trial.
Are you the detective who found my daughter’s killer? She asked in a weak voice.
Yes, ma’am.
Thank you.
She squeezed his hand with her trembling fingers.
Miriam always believed in justice.
She would have appreciated what you did.
Fremont nodded, unable to find the words.
He thought about how easily human lives could be destroyed by passion, anger, and a thirst for revenge.
About how thin the line was between justice and punishment.
And about how sometimes the most terrible sentences were handed down not by a court, but by life itself.
As he left, he took one last look at the courtroom.
Talish had already been led away.
In her eyes, he saw not remorse, but a strange relief, as if a heavy weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders.
Devon stared straight ahead, his expression impenetrable.
His revenge had been accomplished, though not as he had planned.
The case was closed, but Fremont knew it would haunt him in his nightmares for a long time to come.
There were no real winners in the story, only victims of their own passions and mistakes.
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
