Page 46 of Hunting the Crossbow Killer

She’d suffered horribly, had been mostly paralyzed from the neck down and would be on a ventilator for the rest of her life, however long that was. Her parents had wanted him to stop extraordinary life-saving measures at the hospital and let her go. But he couldn’t. He still had hope that she would defy the odds, prove the doctors wrong.

Months after the accident she was receiving care at home, with two nurses who rotated day shifts when he was at work or running errands. One of those nurses was Stella Simmons, now Holman. At night, Aidan was the one who took care of Elly if any alarms went off on her ventilator.

It was difficult and frustrating trying to communicate with Elly. She eventually was able to barely control one hand. But she couldn’t speak, not at first anyway. Through his research online he’d discovered that a special valve could be placed in her tracheostomy that might allow her to speak once again, even though she was paralyzed.

“And it worked,” he said. “I was so excited to hear what her first words would be. She didn’t say ‘I love you’ or ask to see our son. Instead, she said, ‘Let me die.’”

Perry winced across from him.

“It’s what she wrote on her pad of paper, too. That same phrase. Let me die. She wanted me to end her misery. I know that some people tolerate the vent, that even paralyzed they can live fulfilling lives and still experience joy. But Elly had been so active, athletic. No amount of counseling helped her accept her condition. She was truly miserable.”

He shook his head in self-disgust. “I’m the reason she suffered so long. I could have withdrawn care, signed forms at the hospital to let her die a natural death. But I was too selfish. I’d failed her by not being able to save her from the fire. I wanted to be there for her afterward, convinced my money could buy some kind of miracle cure if she could only hold on a little longer. I was a foolish man.”

“Skipping to the day that she did die,” Perry said. “The version of events you told the police was that you wanted to end her suffering, that you unplugged the ventilator, then waited another ten minutes until the backup battery drained. After her heart stopped, you called 911.”

“That’s the story I’ve told all these years.”

“But that’s not the truth, is it, Mr. O’Brien? Special Agent Grace Malone has insisted to me that you’re innocent. And even your in-laws seem to believe that. Did you kill your wife?”

“What the hell does this have to do with helping my son?”

“Understanding the trauma he may have witnessed or suffered himself can help explain the decisions he’s recently made. It could make all the difference in the charges pressed against him.”

“I’ll tell them what happened.” It was Stella from the other end of the table.

“Don’t,” Aidan said. “Please.”

“Aidan was exhausted that day, as he often was,” she said, ignoring his plea. “He worked long hours and had a five-year-old son to take to day care each morning, pick up after work, feed, bathe. He could have hired a nanny but he insisted on being there for Niall, to give him as normal a life as possible even though his mother couldn’t hold him or help take care of him.”

Aidan squeezed his eyes shut.

Grace whispered soothing words as she continued to hold his hand. He gripped it like a lifeline, both ashamed to be relying on her so heavily and desperate not to let go.

Stella explained that Aidan had come home, gotten the turnover report from Stella, checked on his wife, fed and bathed his son, then put him to bed. Then he’d gone out on the back deck to sit for a few minutes, to unwind, before he headed back upstairs to sit with Elly until bedtime.

“He fell asleep. It’s probably the only time he ever did, fell asleep on that back deck because he was so exhausted. When he jolted awake, he realized twenty minutes had passed. He ran inside the house and upstairs to make sure his wife was still okay. He didn’t hear any alarms going off on her ventilator sohe thought everything would be fine. But when he went into her room, he realized everything wasn’t okay.”

“Mr. O’Brien.” This time it was the district attorney who spoke. “I know this is an unofficial inquest, but having your wife’s former nurse tell the story is still hearsay. I’d like to hear the rest from you, especially since this is a whole new version of events that I’m having trouble believing after all this time.”

“It’s the truth,” Stella snapped. “Not a version of events. He didn’t kill Elly.”

“It’s okay,” Aidan told her, a strange sort of acceptance finally settling over him. “I’ve lied for years. I don’t expect everyone to believe me now. But if even one person does, and it somehow helps Niall, I’ll tell the rest.”

He explained that when he entered the room, the first thing he noticed was that his son, who was supposed to be in bed, was playing with toy police cars and trucks by the window. The next thing he noticed was that the cord to Elly’s ventilator was unplugged and that Niall was currently using it to tie up one of his so-called bad guy action figures.

The DA leaned forward. “You’re saying that you didn’t pull the cord on your wife’s machine. Your five-year-old son did?”

Aidan nodded. “But he didn’t realize what he was doing. What he’d done. I told him to grab his toys and go back to bed. I didn’t want him to see what I had to do to help his mother. I plugged in the machine, called 911 and put it on speaker so I could lay her on the floor and begin doing chest compressions, CPR. But it was too late. Her backup battery had died before I came in from the porch. There were no alarms beeping. She wasn’t breathing. Her heart had stopped. Nothing I did made a difference.”

“When the EMTs arrived and tried to resuscitate your wife,” Perry said, “they said you went to check on your son.”

“I had to get out of the way so they could try to help Elly. I went to check on Niall and asked him what had happened. He was stillplaying with his damn cars and trucks, making beeping sounds. He said…he said mommy played with him, told him she could beep like his cars. She told him…she told him to pull the plug to make the machine go beep.”

There were several sharp intakes of breath around the room.

Grace placed her hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Aidan. I’m so sorry.”

The DA scoffed. “Now you’re not only blaming your wife’s death on your five-year-old son, you’re telling us his mother essentially ended her own life. You really expect us to believe this new story?”

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