Page 85 of Letting Go
“Do you need a reminder of what you said, Marcie Claire? I’m happy to share with the class and I do like to tell a good story.” I clear my throat before I start to read the text messages out loud, “‘I have never asked you to help with anything to benefit Chase, but I need your help. I need to remove an obstacle that is preventing his happiness.’ What do you think that could mean, Agent White?”
“Oh look, he responded to that, ‘If I can help, I will. What is the issue?’ Agent Bennett, it looks like Gio was quick to respond and wanted to help the mother of his child out, that’s kind of sweet in an illegal criminal kind of way,” Tara continues to talk as though we’re having a conversation without Marcie Claire in the room.
“Indeed, what a stand-up mobster. She then responded, ‘The man’s name is Dr. Trent Stone, and he lives in Chicago.’ To which Gio replied, ‘Do you want the obstacle damaged or removed permanently?’ To which she then told him, ‘Removed for good.’ Agent White, that doesn’t sound so great to me, what do you think?”
“Not great at all, Agent Bennett,” she replies. “And then it looks like Gio said, ‘Call me at eleven o’clock eastern tonight to discuss details.’”
“Okay, enough. I get it, you can both read private text messages that were never meant to be seen by anyone else, congratulations,” Marcie Claire huffs as though we have offended her somehow. “You have no way of proving who sent those messages or who was on the other end of that exchange. What’s the point of all of this? What do you want?”
“It’s simple, Marcie Claire, we want the details of that phone call and for you to confirm these text messages were all exchanged with Giovanni Lenardo Bruno, who in turn paid an assassin to murder Dr. Trent Stone,” I tell her without a hint of humor in my face.
“You were not discussing removing a piece of landscaping from your backyard, Marcie Claire, you were discussing the end of someone’s life. This text exchange proves you are complicit in solicitation of murder. And by doing so with someone who was in another state at the time of the communication, that makes this an interstate crime, thus a federal offense, ma’am.” I turn the printout of the text messages and place it in front of her. “We already have you for aiding and abetting first-degree murder. If you want us to help you in any way whatsoever with the prosecution, you will tell us what we want to know, Marcie Claire.”
“So, if I were to tell you more about this alleged phone conversation that you claim happened, how could it help me?” Marcie Claire asks while she starts tapping her crimson nails on the tableas her true colors and self-preservation instincts shine, without any acknowledgement of the severity of the charges she’s facing, let alone any remorse for her actions.
“If you help us find the person or people involved and responsible for these crimes, we will communicate any and all cooperation with the federal prosecutors. That cooperation may help your own criminal case and ultimately could impact your sentencing for the crimes you have committed,” I tell her. “Now if you refuse to help us, we will do our best to find even more charges to add to the list and also make sure the prosecution knows we are not interested in doing you any favors whatsoever. And Marcie Claire? My team is really good at their jobs so if there is anything else to find, and I do mean anything, we will.”
“What was the phone conversation about that evening, Marcie Claire?” Tara asks.
Marcie Clarie initially doesn’t say anything, but she stares at the door. Pursing her fuchsia painted lips and tapping her nails in a steady rhythm on the table as she considers her very limited options. I keep waiting for her to demand to have an attorney present, but as long as she keeps talking, this interrogation will keep going.
Releasing a large sigh of what I hope is defeat, Marcie Claire clears her throat before answering the question, “Gio told me he would be willing to hire someone to take care of my problem. Only a handful of people even know this individual even exists, let alone have access to their services, and they … can make people disappear, although it is very expensive. I can only imagine what the cost actually was if it was expensive by Gio’s standards.”
“I think what you mean to say is this person is only hired by people affiliated with organized crime, Marcie Claire,” I add.
“I wouldn’t know anything about that. All I know is once I explained why I wanted this … hindrance removed, Gio was going to handle the rest,” Marcie Claire says dismissively, lifting her hands in a placating manner, as much as she can with one wrist handcuffed to the table, anyway.
“What is this person’s name?” Tara asks.
“I don’t really know,” Marcie Clarie insists. “He didn’t tell me anything about the logistics, just that he would handle it.”
“Then tell us what you do know about this individual,” I insist.
“I only know what they’re referred to as, but it’s not a real name. They go by The Susurro or The Whisper I guess is the translation. I don’t speak Spanish, but I looked it up online once. It seems like a silly name to me, kind of anticlimactic, but Gio said no one even knows this person exists,” Marcie Claire says before she gasps. “Oh my God, Gio. He’s going to kill me for this!”
Marcie Clarie’s logic seems to have come back online, and her eyes widen as she realizes she has already admitted too much to us. “I refuse to speak to you without an attorney present.” Her voice is now shrill and frantic. “I am invoking my right to counsel and demand to have an attorney right now!”
“That’s okay, I think we got what we needed for today,” I say as Tara and I both stand. “We will check if your husband or any other attorney is here for you yet or if we need to have one sent in. If you would like to request an attorney present, that is your legal right. But for now, thank you, Marcie Claire, thank you very much. I hope your stay in federal custody is long and miserable,” I say with a vindictive smile as we leave the interrogation room.
Mason meets us in the hall while we walk to a conference room in the Sheriff’s station our team is temporarily using. “Tara, can you file a warrant for the cell phone records of Gio Bruno? I bet he has more burners than a convenience store but maybe a number will match something Mason uncovers. Harlow, I want you to sit in on the next interrogation with Marcie Claire, even if she has an attorney present, you might have a line of questioning that couldget her to reveal anything else she may be holding back, if she hasn’t already told us everything she knows.”
“Absolutely, I would love the opportunity to talk with her, she is already fascinating to me,” Harlow admits. “Her narcissistic tendencies are textbook, but by playing into them it will make it easier for us to question her moving forward.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, but it’s been vibrating all afternoon. I pull it out to check who it is and see it’s a text from Savannah.
Savannah
Vivian’s imaging results were clear. The wound is stitched up and she should be getting discharged soon. Our father is here with us, and we will be going to my house after she’s discharged.
Me
Thank you for the update. Please tell Vivian to let me know when she gets her phone back.
Savannah
Will do. Today could have been the worst day of my life, but you saved her. I don’t know how to even say thank you, Walker.
Me
