Chapter 9 - The Deposition of Darkness
The following morning,
the District Attorney’s office in downtown city center was a hive of intense legal activity.
Large yellow case files were stacked across the conference table,
and electronic evidence boards displayed timeline photos of the prescription bottles,
bank transfers,
and financial records.
District Attorney James Vance—a tall,
sharp-minded prosecutor with no patience for public corruption—sat at the head of the table.
Beside him sat Dr. Harold Evans,
Daniel’s cousin and former doctor,
wearing an orange county jail jumpsuit and heavy wrist shackles.
Dr. Evans looked completely broken,
his eyes dark with sleep deprivation,
his hands shaking violently as he sat across from us.
Attorney Vance,
Aaron,
and I sat on the opposite side of the table,
watching the disgraceful physician.
"Dr. Evans,"
District Attorney James Vance began,
his voice stern and commanding.
"We are on the record for your formal plea deposition."
"You have signed a cooperation agreement,"
"waiving your right to remain silent in exchange for the removal of the death-penalty enhancement on your attempted murder charges."
"Is that correct?"
"Yes,"
Dr. Evans whispered,
his head hanging low in shame.
"State for the record,"
the District Attorney instructed,
"what was your involvement in the medical conspiracy against Clara Vance?"
Dr. Evans swallowed nervously,
glancing up at me for a split second before dropping his eyes back to the table.
"Eighteen months ago,"
Dr. Evans stammered,
"Daniel came to my private clinic."
"He told me his marriage was failing,"
"and that Clara was going to take everything he owned in a divorce."
"He offered me one hundred thousand dollars in cash,"
"transferred through an offshore shell corporation,"
"if I helped him fabricate a medical history of psychiatric delusion and somatic disorder."
"Where did he get the synthetic S-Atenolol?"
Aaron demanded,
leaning forward with cold authority.
"I...
I ordered it through an illicit pharmaceutical supplier in Mexico,"
Dr. Evans confessed,
tears welling in his eyes.
"I packaged the compounds into unlabeled bottles and gave them to Daniel."
"I told him exact dosage guidelines."
"I told him to mix it into her morning health shakes or vitamin waters."
"You knew it would cause complete heart block?"
Attorney Vance asked,
her voice trembling with indignation.
"You knew it could kill her?"
"Daniel promised me he would stop before it became fatal!"
Dr. Evans pleaded frantically,
reaching out his shackled hands.
"He told me he just needed her to faint a few times in public so his mother could film it!"
"He wanted to use the video footage to convince a judge that she was an unfit mother!"
"But then she kept going to emergency rooms,"
Dr. Evans wept,
"and Daniel got greedy."
"He increased the dosage three weeks ago because the final custody hearing was approaching!"
"He told me if she died on the witness stand,"
"it would look like a natural heart attack caused by stress,"
"and nobody would ever question it!"
I sat frozen in my chair,
feeling a cold sweat break out across my neck.
He had planned my death down to the exact minute.
He wanted me to die right there on the cold courtroom floor,
in front of the judge,
in front of his mother,
while he sat beside his lawyer and smiled.
"And what was Patricia Vance’s role?"
District Attorney James Vance asked,
writing down notes.
"Patricia funded the cash transfers,"
Dr. Evans admitted.
"She paid my clinic fees directly from her personal trust fund."
"She was the one who suggested using the drug because her own sister had taken a similar heart medication years ago."
"They planned every detail together."
The District Attorney closed his folder with a heavy thud.
"That completes the sworn statement,"
he announced.
"Guards,"
"take the defendant back to holding."
As two deputy marshals pulled Dr. Evans up from his seat,
he looked at me one last time.
"I’m sorry,
Clara,"
he sobbed.
"I’m so sorry."
"Don't look at me,"
I said,
my voice cold and completely devoid of pity.
"You sold your medical oath for money,"
"and you tried to make my daughter an orphan."
"You will rot in prison for what you did."
Dr. Evans was dragged out of the room,
his quiet sobs fading down the echoing corridor.
"That deposition seals the case,"
Attorney Vance said,
turning to the prosecutor.
"We have full confession evidence corroborating the chemical tox reports."
"Now,"
District Attorney James Vance said,
standing up,
"we just need to locate Daniel Vance."
"Our tactical units raided his hotel room last night,"
"but he slipped out through the service elevator five minutes before SWAT breached the door."
"He knows his mother was arrested,"
Aaron noted,
his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"He’s running out of options."
"He can't access his frozen domestic bank accounts,"
Aaron continued,
"which means he’ll try to reach a private charter air strip to flee the country using his offshore funds."
"We’ve put border stops on all commercial flights,"
the District Attorney said.
"Then check the local private airfields,"
Aaron advised,
May you like
pulling out his military communications tablet.
"A cornered rat always runs toward the darkest hole he knows."
