The officers, now uncomfortable, agreed we would need to give a statement at the precinct.
“Helen, the situation is worse than I imagined,” Francesca said in a low voice once they were gone. “Richard acted quickly. He’s building a case against you.”
Then, my phone vibrated again. Richard: Helen, did the police find you? I’m coming to the mall now. I just want to help.
“He’s coming here,” Francesca said, standing up. “We need to leave now. To the precinct. It’s the safest place.”
At the precinct, Francesca led us directly to the commander’s office. “My clients are being threatened by Mrs. Mendoza’s husband,” she explained. “We have evidence that he planned to poison her today.”
Just then, Richard entered, the perfect mask of concern on his face. “Helen! Sarah!” he exclaimed. “Thank God you’re safe!”
The commander, Commander Rios, allowed him in. “Helen, why did you run off like that?” he asked, his confusion so convincing I almost doubted myself.
“Mr. Mendoza,” Commander Rios interjected, “Mrs. Helen and her lawyer are filing a report against you for attempted murder.”
Richard looked genuinely shocked. “This is absurd! Helen, what are you doing? Is this about that medicine? I already told you, it was just to help with your anxiety attacks.” He explained to the commander that I had been suffering from paranoia and that a “Dr. Santos” had prescribed a mild tranquilizer. His narrative was so plausible, so carefully constructed.
“That’s a lie!” I replied, my voice trembling with rage. “I’ve never had anxiety problems! I’ve never visited this Dr. Santos!”
“I heard everything,” Sarah said, looking Richard straight in the eye. “I heard you on the phone last night, planning to poison my mom. You wanted to kill my mom for the insurance money. You’re bankrupt. I saw the documents.”
Before Richard could respond, an officer entered with an envelope. “Commander, we just received the preliminary forensics results from the Mendoza residence.”
Commander Rios opened it, his expression grave. “Mr. Mendoza, you mentioned blood in the minor’s room. Correct?”
“Yes,” Richard nodded. “I was frantic.”
“Curious,” the commander continued. “Because according to this analysis, the blood found is less than two hours old, and the blood type does not match either Mrs. Helen or the minor.” He paused. “It matches your blood type, Mr. Mendoza. Which strongly suggests that it was you who placed it there.”
A heavy silence fell. Richard turned pale.
“Furthermore,” the commander went on, “we found this.” He pulled out a photo of the amber bottle. “Preliminary tests indicate the presence of a substance similar to arsenic. Not exactly something you’d expect to find in an anxiety medication, is it?”
It was like watching a house of cards crumble. Richard stood up abruptly. “This is a setup! Helen must have planted this!”
“When exactly would she have done that?” Francesca asked calmly. “Considering she and Sarah have been here for over two hours.”
In that moment, the facade disappeared completely. His face twisted into an expression I had never seen before: pure malice, raw hatred, directed at me. “You stupid woman!” he screamed, lunging in my direction. “You ruined everything!”
The officers grabbed him before he could reach me, but not before I finally saw the real Richard. “Did you really think I loved you?” he snarled, fighting against them. “A mediocre professor with a troubled teenager? You were worthless, except for your money and the life insurance!”
As the officers dragged him out of the room, his screams echoing down the hall, a heavy silence fell.
