Under Currents Page 22
“Don’t be such a prude. We have passion, even after nearly eighteen years we have real passion for each other. He has a demanding, stressful career, and he needs that passion at home. You think you can judge me? Look at what I have. The biggest, most beautiful house in Lakeview Terrace, vacations wherever I want to go, a husband who buys me gorgeous jewelry, an exciting sex life.”
She tossed up her hands, looked at her sister with a kind of cold pity. “What have you got, Emily? An old house, a bunch of bungalows you have to rent out, and no man who wants you.”
They sat, Emily thought, debated this with her battered-faced sister in prison garb, with a police guard on the door. And still Eliza saw herself as superior in every way.
And the single thing Eliza had that Emily had envied hadn’t made Eliza’s list.
“You know, Eliza, there’s something else you have you didn’t put on that list. Two children.”
“I never wanted them.” She shrugged them off, as she might an old sweater. “I kept my part of the agreement. Two children. And I did everything perfectly. They had everything—good clothes, a good school. Dance lessons for the girl, sports for the boy, music lessons for both—though Zane’s pathetic there. Healthy meals, discipline, education, and the proper amount of recreational time.”
Yes, yes, yes, she could still be shocked, Emily realized. “They’re part of the agreement.”
“How would it look if we had no children? A man in Graham’s position needs to present the right image.”
“So they’re part of the image. It didn’t matter to you when he hit Zane?”
“A disrespectful child needs to be punished. Zane’s nearly grown in any case.”
“So you’ve, basically, finished with him.”
“He would have been sent to the right university, given every opportunity. He’d have studied medicine, become a doctor. Now?” She shrugged again, another old sweater discarded. “I have no idea what Graham will want to do. We’ll have to discuss it.”
“You and Graham will no longer have anything to say about either of the children. They’re with me now.”
“Please. As if any court would take them from two parents of our reputation and status.”
“Exactly. Your reputation and status are shredded. The cops know everything.”
“Teenagers’ words against ours.”
“There’s also the statements from the staff of the resort, where you took Zane after Graham beat him. Didn’t think of that, did you?” she added as she saw the flicker in Eliza’s eyes. “Didn’t consider that lie might come back to bite your sorry ass one day. And there’s so much more, but I’ll leave that to the police to tell you, and whatever lawyer you go with. You may have a chance to make a deal, to plead down some of the charges against you. Either way, when you go to court on this, I’ll be one of the people testifying against you and against Graham.”
Eliza’s face went hot under the bruising. “You were always a bitch, always jealous of me. That’s what this all comes down to. You’ve always been jealous. Because I’m prettier, popular, I married a doctor.”
“No, Eliza, in fact I never was, and now I can’t even feel pity for you. I came in here to try to convince you to tell the truth, to make some sort of deal so you only spent a few years rather then a decade or more in prison. But after this? I just don’t care. I won’t wish you good luck, Eliza,” she said as she rose, “because I don’t.”
She read fear clearly, tilted her head. “I wonder, did you and Graham have an agreement on what you’d do if you ended up like this? Did either of you consider it might fall apart, and what you’d do when it did?”
Now she shrugged. “I bet he’s thinking about it now.”
Turning, she lifted her hand to bang on the door.
“Contact the lawyer.”
Emily glanced back. “Which?”
“The one you have. I want my own lawyer.”
“Okay, I’ll do that. I’ll do that, Eliza. It’s the last thing I’ll do for you.”
She banged on the door, and when it opened, left without looking back.
* * *
It took time, but Lee didn’t mind keeping Graham waiting. The DA pushed hard for holding him without bail, and used the two minors, seriously injured and in potential jeopardy, to good effect.
It hadn’t hurt to have Chief Bost speak out.
So he bought a little time, time enough for Eliza Bigelow’s new lawyer to catch up, to push for a deal.
By the time he walked into interview, his gut told him he had it solid. Just like it told him Bigelow probably hadn’t been fully, what you’d call, forthcoming with his attorney.
He started the recording, sat.
“You’ll address your questions to me,” the lawyer told Lee.
“Sure. As you’re aware, Mrs. Bigelow has her own attorney. I’ve just come from speaking to him, and her. She rolled on you, Bigelow. Got herself a deal.”
“Spousal privilege—”
“Does not apply,” Lee interrupted, “if the communication between spouses pertains to the planning or execution of a crime. Mrs. Bigelow opted for a reduction in charges. Can’t blame her.”
Graham leaned over to murmur to his lawyer.
“Mr. Bigelow wants to speak with his wife.”
“You’ll have to take that up with her lawyer, and the warden of the North Carolina Correctional Institution for Women, who’ll be hosting her for the next five to ten. You know, she might’ve slipped by with three to five if it wasn’t for her part in lying to have her severely injured minor son locked up. That and holding down her minor daughter while her husband pumped the kid he’d just knocked around with a sedative so she couldn’t talk. That upped things.
“Your client on the other hand…” Lee opened his file. “He’s going for the full ride.”
“We will contend that Eliza Bigelow was coerced, and due to her own injuries, inflicted by her son, was emotionally and physically compromised.”
“You can try that, but the shrink cleared her. Oh, she’s got issues, but once she decided to tell the truth, a whole lot came out. One being striking his minor son in the stomach with the son’s baseball bat after a game your client deigned to attend, and wherein the minor son had the nerve to strike out. He was eleven. That’s what we like to call assault with a deadly.”
“My client denies any and all charges. We’ve filed for another bail hearing.”
“Yeah, I got that notice. Before you do, let’s just move ahead a few years. I want to be sure your client’s fully informed you about the events taking place from December twenty-third to December thirtieth, 1998.”
Lee took papers from the file as he spoke. “How on December twenty-third of that year your client’s two minor children came home from school to find their father, once again, hitting their mother. On this occasion, the minor son attempted to stop the assault and was in turn beaten unconscious.”
“My client refutes that allegation, and in the strongest terms.”
“The minor child, fourteen at this time, was subsequently locked in his room, initially denied medical treatment for his injuries. Which included a broken nose, bruised ribs, black eyes, a concussion. The nose, the good doctor here later set, without any pain medication. The child was also denied food until the following day.”