Devil's Waltz

36

The envelope arrived by messenger at 7:00 P.M., just before Robin got home. I put it aside and tried to have a normal evening with her. After she went to sleep, I took it to the library. Turned on all the lights and read.

DET. STURGIS: This is video-audiotape session number two with Suspect Charles Lyman Jones the Third. Suspect was informed of his rights at the time of arrest for attempted murder. Miranda warning was repeated and taped at a previous session, eleven A.M. June 1, 1989, and transcribed on that day at two P.M. Said session was terminated on advice of suspect’s counsel, Mr. Anthony Tokarik, Esquire. This session represents resumption of interview at request of Mr. Tokarik. Do I need to re-Mirandize him, Counselor, or does that second warning hold for this session?

MR. TOKARIK: It will hold, unless Professor Jones requests re-Mirandization. Do you want to be warned again, Chip?

MR. JONES: NO. Let’s get on with this.

MR. TOKARIK: Go ahead.

DET. STURGIS: Evening, Chip.

MR. TOKARIK: I’d prefer that you address my client respectfully, Detective.

DET. STURGIS: Professor be okay?

MR. TOKARIK: Yes. However, if that’s too difficult for you, “Mr. Jones” would suffice.

DET. STURGIS: You just called him Chip.

MR. TOKARIK: I’m his lawyer.

DET. STURGIS: Uh-huh... okay... sure. Hey, I’d even call him “Doctor,” but he never finished his Ph.D., did you, Chip — Mr. Jones? What’s that? Can’t hear you.

MR. JONES: (unintelligible)

DET. STURGIS: Got to speak up, Mr. Jones. Grunts don’t make it.

MR. TOKARIK: Hold on, Detective. Unless the tone of this interview changes, I’m going to call a halt to it immediately.

DET. STURGIS: Suit yourself — your loss. I just thought you guys might want to hear some of the evidence we’ve compiled against old Chip, here. ’Scuse me — Mister Jones.

MR. TOKARIK: I can get anything you have from the district attorney under the rules of recovery, Detective.

DET. STURGIS: Fine. Then wait till the trial. Let’s go, Steve.

DET. MARTINEZ: Sure.

MR. JONES: Hold on. (unintelligible)

MR. TOKARIK: Wait, Chip, (unintelligible) I’d like to confer with my client privately, if you don’t mind.

DET. STURGIS: If it doesn’t take too long.

Tape off: 7:39 P.M.

Tape on: 7:51 P.M.

MR. TOKARIK: Go ahead, show us what you’ve got.

DET. STURGIS: Yeah, sure, but is Mr. Jones going to be answering questions or is it gonna be a one-way show-and-tell?

MR. TOKARIK: I reserve my client’s right to refuse to answer any questions. Proceed if you wish, Detective.

DET. STURGIS: What do you think, Steve?

DET. MARTINEZ: I don’t know.

MR. TOKARIK: Decision, gentlemen?

DET. STURGIS: Yeah, okay... Well, Chip — Mr. Jones — I’m glad you’ve got yourself a high-priced lawyer like Mr. Tokarik here, ’cause you’re sure gonna—

MR. TOKARIK: This is definitely getting off on the wrong foot. My fees have nothing to—

DET. STURGIS: What are we doing here, Counselor, interrogating a suspect or critiquing my style?

MR. TOKARIK: I strenuously object to your—

DET. STURGIS: Object all you want. This isn’t court.

MR. TOKARIK: I request another conference with my client.

DET. STURGIS: NO way. Let’s split, Steve.

DET. MARTINEZ: You bet.

MR. JONES: Hold on. Sit down.

DET. STURGIS: You ordering me around, Junior?

MR. TOKARIK: I object to—

DET. STURGIS: Come on, Steve, we’re outa here.

MR. JONES: Hold on!

MR. TOKARIK: Chip, it’s—

MR. JONES: Shut up!

MR. TOKARIK: Chip—

MR. JONES: Shut up!

DET. STURGIS: Uh-uh, no way do I proceed with this kind of friction going on between the two of you. Then he complains he wasn’t represented by counsel of choice? No way.

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t play lawyer with me, Detective.

MR. JONES: Just shut the hell up, Tony! This whole thing is preposterous!

DET. STURGIS: What is, Professor Jones?

MR. JONES: Your supposed case.

DET. STURGIS: You didn’t attempt to inject your daughter, Cassandra Brooks, with insulin?

MR. JONES: Of course not. I found the needle in Cindy’s purse, got upset because it confirmed my suspicions about her, and was trying to see if she’d already—

MR. TOKARIK: Chip—

MR. JONES:... jected it into Cassie’s I.V. Stop giving me looks, Tony — it’s my future at stake here. I want to hear what kind of folderol they think they’ve got, so I can clear it up once and for all.

DET. STURGIS: Folderol?

MR. TOKARIK: Chip—

DET. STURGIS: I don’t want to continue if—

MR. JONES: He’s my attorney of choice, okay? Go on.

DET. STURGIS: You’re sure?

MR. JONES: (unintelligible)

DET. STURGIS: Speak right into that mike over there.

MR. JONES: Get on with it. I want out of here, posthaste.

DET. STURGIS: Yes, sir, massah sir.

MR. TOKARIK: Detecti—

MR. JONES: Shut up, Tony.

DET. STURGIS: Everyone ready? Okay. First of all, we’ve got you on videotape, trying to shoot insulin into—

MR. JONES: Wrong. I told you what that was about. I was just trying to see what Cindy was up to.

DET. STURGIS: Like I said, we’ve got you on videotape, trying to shoot insulin into your daughter’s intravenous line. Plus video logs of the cameras at the entrance to Western Pediatric Medical Center confirming that you didn’t enter the hospital through the front door. One of the keys on your ring has been identified as a hospital master. You probably used it to sneak in through the—

MR. TOKARIK: I obj—

MR. JONES: Tony.

MR. TOKARIK: I request a brief conference with my—

MR. JONES: Cut it out, Tony. I’m not one of your idiot sociopaths. Go on with your fairy tale, Detective. And you’re right, I did use one of Dad’s keys. So what? Whenever I go to that place I avoid the front door. I try to be inconspicuous. Is discretion an egregious felony?

DET. STURGIS: Let’s go on. You bought two cups of coffee from a hospital machine, then took the stairs up to the fifth floor. We’ve got you on video up there too. Out in the hall where Five East meets Chappell Ward, carrying the coffee and looking through a crack in the door. What it looks like to me is you’re waiting until the nurse on duty goes into a back room. Then you go into room 505 West where you stay for fifty-five minutes until I come in and find you jabbing that needle into your daughter’s I.V. line. We’re going to show you all those videotapes now, okay?

MR. JONES: Seems eminently superfluous, but suit yourself.

DET. STURGIS: Action, camera.

Tape off: 8:22 P.M.

Tape on: 9:10 P.M.

DET. STURGIS: Okay. Any comments?

MR. JONES: Godard it’s not.

DET. STURGIS: No? I thought it had a lot of vérité.

MR. JONES: Are you a fan of cinéma vérité, Detective?

DET. STURGIS: Not really, Mr. Jones. Too much like work.

MR. JONES: Hah, I like that.

MR. TOKARIK: IS that it? That’s your evidence, in toto?

DET. STURGIS: In toto? Hardly. Okay, so now we’ve got you jabbing that needle—

MR. JONES: I told you what that was about — I was testing it. Checking the I.V. inlet to see if Cindy’d already injected Cassie.

DET. STURGIS: Why?

MR. JONES: Why? To protect my child!

DET. STURGIS: Why did you suspect your wife of harming Cassie?

MR. JONES: Circumstances. The data at hand.

DET. STURGIS: The data.

MR. JONES: Exactly.

DET. STURGIS: Want to tell me more about the data?

MR. JONES: Her personality — things I noticed. She’d been acting strange — elusive. And Cassie always seemed to fall ill after she’d spent time with her mother.

DET. STURGIS: Okay... We’ve also got a puncture wound in the fleshy part of Cassie’s armpit.

MR. JONES: NO doubt you do, but I didn’t put it there.

DET. STURGIS: Aha... what about the Valium you put in your wife’s coffee?

MR. JONES: I explained it in the room, Detective. I didn’t give it to her. It was for her nerves, remember. She’s been really on edge — been taking it for a while. If she denies that, she’s lying.

DET. STURGIS: She does indeed deny it. She says she was never aware you were dosing her up.

MR. JONES: She lies habitually — that’s the point. Accusing me based purely on what she says is like constructing a syllogism based on totally false premises. Do you understand what I mean by that?

DET. STURGIS: Sure, Prof. Valium tablets were found in one of Cassie’s toys — a stuffed bunny.

MR. JONES: There you go. How would I know anything about that?

DET. STURGIS: Your wife says you bought several of them for Cassie.

MR. JONES: I bought Cassie all sorts of toys. Other people bought LuvBunnies too. A nurse named Bottomley — very iffy personality. Why don’t you check her out, see if she’s involved.

DET. STURGIS: Why should she be?

MR. JONES: She and Cindy seem awfully close — too close, I always thought. I wanted her transferred off the case, but Cindy refused. Check her out — she’s strange, believe me.

DET. STURGIS: We did. She’s passed a polygraph and every other test we threw at her.

MR. JONES: Polygraphs are inadmissible in court.

DET. STURGIS: Would you take one?

MR. TOKARIK: Chip, don’t—

MR. JONES: I don’t see any reason to. This whole thing is preposterous.

DET. STURGIS: Onward. Did you have a prescription for the Valium we found at your campus office?

MR. JONES: (laughs) No. Is that a crime?

DET. STURGIS: AS a matter of fact, it is. Where’d you get it?

MR. JONES: Somewhere — I don’t remember.

DET. STURGIS: One of your students?

MR. JONES: Of course not.

DET. STURGIS: A student named Kristie Marie Kirkash?

MR. JONES: Uh — absolutely not. I may have had it around from before.

DET. STURGIS: For yourself?

MR. JONES: Sure. From years ago — I was under some stress. Now that I think about it, I’m sure that’s what it was. Someone lent it to me — a faculty colleague.

DET. STURGIS: What’s this colleague’s name?

MR. JONES: I don’t remember. It wasn’t that significant. Valium’s like candy nowadays. I plead guilty to having it without a prescription, okay?

DET. STURGIS: Okay.

MR. TOKARIK: What did you just take out of your briefcase, Detective?

DET. STURGIS: Something for the record. I’m going to read it out loud—

MR. TOKARIK: I want a copy first. Two copies — for myself and for Professor Jones.

DET. STURGIS: Duly noted. We’ll get the Xerox going soon as we’re finished here.

MR. TOKARIK: No, I want it simultaneous with your—

MR. JONES: Stop obstructing, Tony. Let him read whatever it is. I want out of here today.

MR. TOKARIK: Chip, nothing’s of greater importance to me than your imminent release, but I—

MR. JONES: Quiet, Tony. Read, Detective.

MR. TOKARIK: Not at all. I’m unhappy with thi—

MR. JONES: Fine. Read, Detective.

DET. STURGIS: That settled? Sure? Okay. This is a transcript of an encoded computer floppy disk, 3M Brand, DS, DD, RH, double-sided, double-density, Q Mark. Further designated with Federal Bureau of Investigation Evidence Tag Number 133355678345 dash 452948. The disk was decoded by the cryptography division of the FBI National Crime Laboratory in Washington, D.C., and was received at Los Angeles Police Department Headquarters, this morning, 6:45 A.M., via government pouch. Once I start, I’m going to read it in its entirety, even if you choose to leave the room with your client, Counselor. In order to make it clear that this evidence was offered to you and you declined to hear it. Understood?

MR. TOKARIK: We exercise all of our rights without prejudice.

MR. JONES: Read on, Detective. I’m intrigued.

DET. STURGIS: Here goes:

DET. STURGIS: That’s it.

MR. TOKARIK: Are we supposed to be impressed? Decoded hocus-pocus? You know this is totally inadmissible.

DET. STURGIS: If you say so.

MR. TOKARIK: Come on, Chip, let’s get out of here — Chip?

MR. JONES: Uh-huh.

DET. STURGIS: Sure you wanna go? There’s more.

MR. TOKARIK: We’ve heard quite enough.

DET. STURGIS: Suit yourself, Counselor. But don’t waste your time asking for bail. D.A.’s filing Murder One as we speak.

MR. TOKARIK: Murder One! That’s outrageous. Who’s the victim?

DET. STURGIS: Dawn Herbert.

MR. TOKARIK: Murder One? On the basis of that fantasy?

DET. STURGIS: On the basis of eyewitness testimony, Counselor. Collaborator testimony. Upstanding citizen named Karl Sobran. You do have a thing for your students, don’t you, Prof.

MR. TOKARIK: Who?

DET. STURGIS: Ask the prof.

MR. TOKARIK: I’m asking you, Detective.

DET. STURGIS: Karl Edward Sobran. We’ve got a windbreaker with blood on it and a confession implicating your client. And Sobran’s credentials are impeccable. Bachelor’s degree in interpersonal violence from Soledad, postgraduate training from numerous other institutions. Your client hired him to kill Ms. Herbert and make it look like a sex thing. Not much of a challenge, because Sobran likes to get violent with women — did time for rape and assault. His last paid vacation was for larceny and he spent it up in the Ventura County Jail. That’s where old Professor Chip, here, met him. Volunteer tutoring — a class project his sociology Students were doing. Sobran got an A. Old Chip sent a letter recommending parole, calling Sobran graduate-school material and promising to keep him under his wing. Sobran got out and enrolled at West Valley Community College as a sociology major. What he did to Dawn — What was that, Prof? Fieldwork?

MR. TOKARIK: This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of.

DET. STURGIS: D.A. doesn’t think so.

MR. TOKARIK: The D.A. is totally politically motivated. If my client was any other Jones, we wouldn’t even be sitting here.

DET. STURGIS: Okay... have a nice day. Steve?

DET. MARTINEZ: See y’all.

MR. TOKARIK: Coded disks, the alleged testimony of a convicted felon — absurd.

DET. STURGIS: Ask your client if it’s absurd.

MR. TOKARIK: I’ll do no such thing. Let’s go, Chip. Come on.

MR. JONES: Can you get me bail, Tony?

MR. TOKARIK: This isn’t the place to—

MR. JONES: I want out of this place, Tony. Things are piling up. I’ve got papers to grade.

MR. TOKARIK: Of course, Chip. But it may take—

DET. STURGIS: He’s not going anywhere and you know it, Counselor. Level with him.

MR. JONES: I want out. This place is depressing. I can’t concentrate.

MR. TOKARIK: I understand, Chip, but—

MR. JONES: NO buts, Tony. I want out. A l’extérieur. O.U.T.

MR. TOKARIK: Of course, Chip. You know I’ll do everything I—

MR. JONES: I want out, Tony. I’m a good person. This is totally Kafkaesque.

DET. STURGIS: Good person, huh? Liar, torturer, murderer... Yeah, I guess if you don’t count those minor technicalities, you’re up for sainthood, Junior.

MR. JONES: I am a good person.

DET. STURGIS: Tell that to your daughter.

MR. JONES: She’s not my daughter.

MR. TOKARIK: Chip—

DET. STURGIS: Cassie’s not your daughter?

MR. JONES: Not strictly speaking, Detective. Not that it’s relevant — I wouldn’t hurt anyone’s child.

DET. STURGIS: She’s not yours?

MR. JONES: NO. Even though I’ve raised her as if she were. All the responsibility but none of the ownership.

DET. MARTINEZ: Whose is she, then?

MR. JONES: Who knows? Her mother’s such a compulsive roundheels, jumps anything with a — In pants. God only knows who the father is. I sure don’t.

DET. STURGIS: By “her mother” you’re referring to your wife? Cindy Brooks Jones.

MR. JONES: Wife in name only.

MR. TOKARIK: Chip—

MR. JONES: She’s a barracuda, Detective. Don’t believe that innocent exterior. Pure predator. Once she snagged me, she reverted to type.

DET. STURGIS: What type is that?

MR. TOKARIK: I’m calling this session to a halt right now. Any further questions are at your legal risk, Detective.

DET. STURGIS: Sorry, Chip. Your legal beagle, here, says zip the lip.

MR. JONES: I’ll talk to whom I want, when I want, Tony.

MR. TOKARIK: For God’s sake, Chip—

MR. JONES: Shut up, Tony. You’re growing tedious.

DET. STURGIS: Better listen to him, Prof. He’s the expert.

MR. TOKARIK: Exactly. Session ended.

DET. STURGIS: Whatever you say.

MR. JONES: Stop infantilizing me — all of you. I’m the one stuck in this hellhole. My rights are the ones being abridged. What do I have to do to get out of here, Detective?

MR. TOKARIK: Chip, at this point there’s nothing you can do—

MR. JONES: Then what do I need you for? You’re fired.

MR. TOKARIK: Chip—

MR. JONES: Just shut up and let me get a thought out, okay?

MR. TOKARIK: Chip, I can’t in good conscience—

MR. JONES: YOU don’t have a conscience, Tony. You’re a lawyer. Quoth the Bard: “Let’s kill all the lawyers.” Okay? So just hold on... okay... Listen, you guys are cops — you understand street people, how they lie. That’s the way Cindy is. She lies atavistically — it’s an ingrained habit. She fooled me for a long time because I loved her—” When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies.” Shakespeare — everything’s in Shakespeare. Where was I...?

MR. TOKARIK: Chip, for your own sake—

MR. JONES: She’s amazing, Detective. Could charm the bark off a tree. Serve me dinner and smile and ask me how my day had been — and an hour before, she was in our marital bed, screwing the pool man. The pool man, for God’s sake. We’re talking urban legend here. But she lived it.

DET. STURGIS: By “the pool man” you’re referring to Greg Worley of ValleyBrite Pool Service?

MR. JONES: Him, others — what’s the difference? Carpenters, plumbers, anything in jeans and a tool belt. No trouble getting tradesmen out to our place — oh, no. Our place was Disneyland for every blue-collar cocksman in town. It’s a disease, Detective. She can’t help herself. Okay, rationally, I can understand that. Ungovernable impulses. But she destroyed me in the process. I was the victim.

MR. TOKARIK: (unintelligible)

DET. STURGIS: What’s that, Counselor?

MR. TOKARIK: I register my objection to this entire session.

MR. JONES: Suppress your ego, Tony. I’m the victim — don’t exploit me for your ego. That’s my problem in general — people tend to take advantage of me because they know I’m fairly naïve.

DET. STURGIS: Dawn Herbert do that?

MR. JONES: Absolutely. That folderol you read was absolute fantasy. She was a dope addict when I found her. I tried to help her and she paid me back with paranoia.

DET. STURGIS: What about Kristie Kirkash?

MR. JONES: (unintelligible)

DET. STURGIS: What’s that, Prof?

MR. JONES: Kristie’s my student. Why? Does she say it’s more than that?

DET. STURGIS: Actually she does.

MR. JONES: Then she’s lying — another one.

DET. STURGIS: Another what?

MR. JONES: Predator. Believe me, she’s old beyond her years. I must attract them. What happened with Kristie is that I caught her cheating on a test and was working with her on her ethics. Take my advice and don’t accept anything she says at face value.

DET. STURGIS: She says she rented a post office box for you out in Agoura Hills. You have the number handy, Steve?

DET. MARTINEZ: Mailboxes Plus, Agoura, box number 1498.

MR. JONES: That was for research.

DET. STURGIS: What kind of research?

MR. JONES: I’ve been thinking of a possible project: pornography research — recurrent images in an overly organized society — as a form of ritual. Obviously, I didn’t want material sent to my home or my campus office — you get on pervert lists, and I didn’t want a flood of garbage coming in. So Kristie rented the POB for me.

DET. STURGIS: Any reason you didn’t rent it yourself?

MR. JONES: I was busy, Kristie lived out there, and it just seemed convenient.

DET. STURGIS: Any reason you rented it under the name of Ralph Benedict, M.D.? A physician who’s been dead for two and a half years and just happened to have treated your wife’s aunt for diabetes?

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t answer that.

DET. STURGIS: Any reason you had medical apparatus shipped out to that post office box using Ralph Benedict, M.D.’s name and medical license number?

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t answer that.

DET. STURGIS: Any reason you had insulin and Insuject insulin-delivery systems, such as the one we found in your hand in your daughter’s hospital room, shipped to that post office box in Ralph Benedict, M.D.’s name?

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t answer that.

MR. JONES: Ridiculous. Cindy knew about the POB, too. I gave her my spare key. She must have used it for that.

DET. STURGIS: She says she didn’t.

MR. JONES: She’s lying.

DET. STURGIS: Okay, but even so, why’d you use Benedict’s name to get the box? It’s your name on the application form.

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t answer that.

MR. JONES: I want to — I want to clear my name, Tony. In all honesty, Detective, I can’t really answer that one. It must have been subconscious. Cindy must have mentioned Benedict’s name — yes, I’m sure she did. As you said, he was her aunt’s doctor, she talked about him a lot, and it stuck in my mind — so when I needed a name for the box, it just popped into my head.

DET. STURGIS: Why’d you need an alias in the first place?

MR. JONES: I already explained that. For the pornography — some of the stuff I received was really disgusting.

DET. STURGIS: Your wife says she knew nothing about the box.

MR. JONES: Of course she does. She’s lying. Really, Detective, it’s all a matter of context — seeing things in a different light, using a new lens.

DET. STURGIS: Uh-huh.

MR. TOKARIK: Now what are you pulling out?

DET. STURGIS: I think it’s obvious. This is a mask.

MR. TOKARIK: I fail to see—

MR. JONES: No big deal. It’s from the carnival — Delta Psi’s carnival. They dressed me up as a witch. I kept the mask for a souvenir.

DET. STURGIS: Kristie Kirkash kept it. You gave it to her last week and told her to keep it.

MR. JONES: So?

DET. STURGIS: So I think you put this on when you injected Cassie. So you’d look like a woman — the wicked witch.

MR. TOKARIK: Ridiculous.

MR. JONES: I agree with you there, Tony.

DET. STURGIS: A souvenir, huh? Why’d you give it to Kristie?

MR. JONES: She’s a Delta Psi. I thought the sorority would like to have it.

DET. STURGIS: Considerate.

MR. JONES: I’m their faculty adviser. What’s the big—

DET. STURGIS: You have a thing for your students, don’t you? That’s how you met your wife, isn’t it? She was your student.

MR. JONES: It’s not unusual — the teacher-student relationship...

DET. STURGIS: What about it?

MR. JONES: Often... sometimes it leads to intimacy.

DET. STURGIS: You tutor her, too? Your wife?

MR. JONES: As a matter of fact, I did. But she was hopeless — not very bright at all.

DET. STURGIS: But you married her anyway. How come? A smart guy like you.

MR. JONES: I was smitten — “this spring of love.”

DET. STURGIS: You met in the spring?

MR. JONES: It’s a quotation—

DET. STURGIS: Shakespeare?

MR. JONES: As a matter of fact, yes. I fell deeply in love and was taken advantage of. A romantic nature. My bête noire.

DET. STURGIS: What about Karl Sobran? He take advantage of you too?

MR. JONES: With Karl it was different — with him, ironically, I wasn’t naïve. I knew what he was, right away, but I felt I could help him channel his impulses.

DET. STURGIS: What did you know he was?

MR. JONES: Classic antisocial sociopath. But contrary to popular belief, those types don’t lack consciences. They merely suspend them at their convenience — read Samenow. As a police officer, you really should. Where was I? Karl. Karl is very bright. I was hoping to direct his intelligence in a constructive manner.

DET. STURGIS: Like murder for hire?

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t answer that.

MR. JONES: Stop sighing, Tony. That’s ridiculous. Of course not. Did Karl actually say that?

DET. STURGIS: How else would I know about him, Prof?

MR. JONES: Ludicrous. But he is a sociopath — don’t forget that. Genetic liar. At worst I’m guilty of underestimating him — not realizing how truly dangerous he was. As much as I didn’t respect Dawn as a human being, I was horrified to find out she was murdered. If I’d known, I’d never have written that letter to Karl’s parole board. Never have... Oh, my God.

DET. STURGIS: Never have what?

MR. JONES: Talked idly to Karl.

DET. STURGIS: About Dawn?

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t answer that.

MR. JONES: You’re sighing again — it’s very wearisome, Tony. Yes, about her, as well as other things. I’m afraid I must have thrown out idle comments about Dawn that Karl must have misinterpreted horribly.

DET. STURGIS: What kinds of comments?

MR. JONES: Oh, no, I can’t believe he actually — How she was harassing me. He misunderstood. God, what a horrible misunderstanding!

DET. STURGIS: You’re saying he misunderstood your comments and killed her on his own?

MR. JONES: Believe me, Detective, the thought makes me sick. But it’s an inescapable conclusion.

DET. STURGIS: What exactly did you tell Sobran about Dawn?

MR. JONES: That she was someone from my past who was bothering me.

DET. STURGIS: That’s it?

MR. JONES: That’s it.

DET. STURGIS: There was no solicitation? To kill or hurt her?

MR. JONES: Absolutely not.

DET. STURGIS: But there was payment, Prof. Two thousand dollars that Sobran deposited in his account the day after her murder. He had some of it in his pocket when I arrested him. He says he got it from you.

MR. JONES: No problem. I’ve been helping Karl for a long time — so he could get on his feet, wouldn’t have to revert.

DET. STURGIS: Two thousand dollars?

MR. JONES: Sometimes I get a little loose with the purse strings. It’s an occupational hazard.

DET. STURGIS: Of being a sociology professor?

MR. JONES: Of growing up wealthy — it can be a real curse, you know. That’s why I always tried to live my life as if the money didn’t exist. Keeping my life-style unpretentious — keeping away from all the things that have the potential to corrupt.

DET. STURGIS: Like real estate deals?

MR. JONES: My investments were for them — Cindy and the kids. I wanted them to have some kind of financial stability, because teaching school sure won’t give you that. That was before I realized what she was doing.

DET. STURGIS: By “doing,” you mean sexual behavior?

MR. JONES: Exactly. With everything that walked in through the door. The children weren’t even mine, but I took care of them anyway. I’m a soft touch — it’s something I need to work on.

DET. STURGIS: Uh-huh... Was Chad yours?

MR. JONES: Not a chance.

DET. STURGIS: How do you know?

MR. JONES: One look at him. He was the spitting image of a roofer we had working out on the tract. Spitting image — total clone.

DET. STURGIS: Is that why you killed him?

MR. JONES: Don’t be tedious, Detective. Chad died of sudden infant death syndrome.

DET. STURGIS: How can you be sure?

MR. JONES: Textbook case. I read up on it — SIDS — after the little guy died. Trying to understand — to work it through. It was a horrible time for me. He wasn’t my flesh and blood, but I still loved him.

DET. STURGIS: Okay, let’s move on. Your mother. Why’d you kill her?

MR. TOKARIK: I object!

MR. JONES: You fuck—

DET. STURGIS: See, I did some studying, too—

MR. JONES: You fat fu—

MR. TOKARIK: I object! I most strenuously object to thi—

DET. STURGIS — trying to understand you, Prof. Talked to people all about your mom. You’d be amazed at how willing people are to talk once someone’s down—

MR. JONES: You are stupid. You are psychotic and... and... egregiously stupid and ignorant. I should have known better than to bare my soul to someone like—

MR. TOKARIK: Chip—

DET. STURGIS: One thing they all agree on was that old Mom was a hypochondriac. Healthy as a horse but convinced she was terminally ill. One person I spoke to said her bedroom was like a hospital room — that she actually had a hospital bed. With the little table? All these pills and syrups lying around. Needles too. Lots of needles. She stick herself, or get you to do it?

MR. JONES: Oh, God...

MR. TOKARIK: Take my handkerchief, Chip.

Detective, I demand that you cease this line of questioning.

DET. STURGIS: Sure. Bye.

MR. JONES: She was the one who did the sticking! Herself and me — she hurt me! Vitamin B-12 shots twice a day. Protein shots. Antihistamine shots, even though I wasn’t allergic to anything! My bottom was her fucking pincushion! Antibiotics the minute I coughed. Tetanus shots if I got a scrape. I was the Azazel goat — cod liver oil and castor oil, and if I threw it up, I had to clean it up and take a double dosage. She could always get hold of medicine because she used to be a nurse — that’s how she met him. Army hospital, he was wounded at Anzio — big hero. She took care of him, but to me she was a sadistic maniac — you have no idea what it was like!

DET. STURGIS: Sounds like no one protected you.

MR. JONES: No one! It was a living hell. Every day brought a new surprise. That’s why I hate surprises. Hate them. Detest them.

DET. STURGIS: You prefer everything planned out, huh?

MR. JONES: Organization. I like organization.

DET. STURGIS: Sounds like your dad let you down.

MR. JONES: (laughs) That’s his hobby.

DET. STURGIS: So you go your own way.

MR. JONES: Mother’s the — Necessity’s the mother of invention. (laughs) Thank you, Herr Freud.

DET. STURGIS: Getting back to mom for a minute—

MR. JONES: Let’s not.

DET. STURGIS: The way she died — Valium O.D., plastic bag over the head — guess we’ll never prove it wasn’t suicide.

MR. JONES: That’s because it was. And that’s all I have to say about that.

DET. STURGIS: Want to say anything about why you hung two pictures she painted in your house but really low to the ground? What was that, a symbolic demeaning or something?

MR. JONES: I have nothing to say about that.

DET. STURGIS: Uh-huh... yeah... So what you’re trying to tell me is, you’re the victim and this is all a big misunderstanding.

MR. JONES: (unintelligible)

DET. STURGIS: What?

MR. JONES: Context, Detective. Context.

DET. STURGIS: New lens.

MR. JONES: Exactly.

DET. STURGIS: Your reading up on sudden infant death was because you were trying to understand your... Chad’s death?

MR. JONES: Exactly.

DET. STURGIS: Did you read up on Munchausen syndrome by proxy because you were trying to understand Cassie’s illnesses?

MR. JONES: As a matter of fact, I did. Research is what I’m trained to do, Detective. All the experts seemed to be baffled by Cassie’s symptoms. I figured I’d learn what I could.

DET. STURGIS: Dawn Herbert said you were once pre-med.

MR. JONES: Very briefly. I lost interest.

DET. STURGIS: Why?

MR. JONES: Too concrete, no imagination involved. Doctors are really nothing more than glorified plumbers.

DET. STURGIS: So... you read up on Munchausen syndrome — doing the old professor thing.

MR. JONES: (laughs) What can I tell you? In the end we all revert... It was a revelation, believe me. Learning about the syndrome. Not that I ever imagined, in the beginning, that Cindy might be doing something to her — Perhaps I was too slow to suspect, but my own childhood... too painful. I suppose I repressed. But then... when I read...

DET. STURGIS: What? Why are you shaking your head?

MR. JONES: It’s hard to talk about... so cruel... You think you know someone and then... But the fit — everything started to fit. Cindy’s history. Her obsession with health. The techniques she must have used... disgusting.

DET. STURGIS: Such as?

MR. JONES: Smothering to simulate asphyxia. Cindy was always the one who got up when Cassie cried — she only called me when things got bad. Then those terrible GI — gastrointestinal — problems and fevers. Once I saw something brown in Cassie’s baby bottle. Cindy said it was organic apple juice and I believed her. Now I realize it must have been some sort of fecal matter. Poisoning Cassie with her own filth so that she’d get an infection but it would be an autologous one — self-infection, so that no foreign organism would show up on the blood tests. Disgusting, isn’t it?

DET. STURGIS: That it is, Prof. What’s your theory on the seizures?

MR. JONES: Low blood sugar, obviously. Overdose of insulin. Cindy knew all about insulin, because of her aunt. I guess I should have figured it out — she talked about her aunt’s diabetes all the time, wouldn’t let Cassie have any junk food — but it really didn’t sink in. I guess I really didn’t want to believe it, but... the evidence. I mean, at some point one simply has to stop denying, doesn’t one? But still... Cindy had — has — her frailties, and sure, I was furious with her for her sexual acting-out. But her own child...

DET. STURGIS: Hers, only.

MR. JONES: Yes, but that’s beside the point. Who wants to see any child suffer?

DET. STURGIS: So you went over to the university and pulled medical articles out of the SAP data bank.

MR. JONES: (unintelligible)

DET. STURGIS: What’s that?

MR. JONES: No more questions, okay? I’m getting a little tired.

DET. STURGIS: Did I say something that offended you?

MR. JONES: Tony, make him stop.

MR. TOKARIK: Session ended.

DET. STURGIS: Sure. Absolutely. But I just don’t get it. We’re having a good talk, all convivial, and then all of a sudden I say something about the SAP data bank — that great computerized system they’ve got, where you can pull articles right off the computer and Xerox them? Something just click about that, Professor? Like the fact that professors can open an account and get an itemized monthly bill?

MR. TOKARIK: My client and I have no idea what you’re talking abou—

DET. STURGIS: Steve?

DET. MARTINEZ: Here you go.

MR. TOKARIK: Ah, more tricks from the police bag.

DET. STURGIS: Here. You look at it, Counselor. The articles with the red stars are on sudden infant death. Check the dates your client and Ms. Kirkash pulled ’em out of the computer. Six months before Chad died. The blue ones are on Munchausen syndrome. Check those dates and you’ll see he pulled those two months after Cassie was born — long before her symptoms started. To me that spells premeditation, don’t you think, Counselor? Though I have enjoyed the little comedy routine he’s just done for us — maybe the fellas on cell block will enjoy it, too. Hell, maybe you can get him off High-Power and into the main population, Counselor. So he can teach those sociopaths some sociology — what do you say? What’s that?

MR. JONES: (unintelligible)

MR. TOKARIK: Chip—

DET. STURGIS: Are those tears I see, Chipper? Poor baby. Speak up — I can’t hear you.

MR. JONES: Let’s deal.

DET. STURGIS: Deal? For what?

MR. JONES: Reduced charges: assault — assault with a deadly weapon. That’s all you’ve got evidence of, anyway.

DET. STURGIS: Your client wants to negotiate, Counselor. I suggest you advise him.

MR. TOKARIK: Don’t say anything, Chip. Let me handle this.

MR. JONES: I want to deal, goddamit! I want out!

DET. STURGIS: What do you have to deal with, Chipper?

MR. JONES: Information — hard facts. Things my dad’s been doing. Real murder. There was a doctor at the hospital named Ashmore — he must have been bothering my dad about something. Because I overheard my dad and one of his lackeys — a worm named Novak — I heard them talking about it when I went to visit my dad at his house. They were in the library and didn’t know I was standing right outside the door — they never paid much attention to me. They were saying this guy, this doctor, would have to be handled. That with all the security problems at the hospital it shouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t really think much of it, but then a month later, Ashmore was murdered in the hospital parking lot. So there had to be a connection, right? I’m sure my dad had him killed. Take a close look at it — believe me, it’ll make all this nonsense look trivial.

DET. STURGIS: All this folderol, huh?

MR. JONES: Believe me, just investigate.

DET. STURGIS: Selling the old man down the river, huh?

MR. JONES: He never did a thing for me. Never protected me — not once, not a single time!

DET. STURGIS: Hear that, Counselor? There’s your defense: a bad childhood. Bye, Chip. C’mon, Steve.

DET. MARTINEZ: See y’all in court.

MR. JONES: Wait—

MR. TOKARIK: Chip, there’s no nee—

END OF TAPE