Chapter 584

‘1 didn’t poison her Elspeth’s denial was as futile as a turkey claiming it wasn’t Thanksgiving.

Amold ignored her protests, his voice a low and chitting timbre. “At the time, you panicked and fled the scene of the crime, but you forgot to take this vial with you. The victim’s death was ruled a suicide, which made you complacent, and you never returned to check the scene. The Abernathys, superstitious after a death in the room, sealed it off, inadvertently preserving the crime scene for the police. This vial, it replaced the antidepressants on her nightstand. And the residue inside, upon testing, wasn’t Fentanyl, but cyanide.

Cyanide?

The room erupted in shock, that was the king of poisons! Ingesting or even touching it could be fatal!

This woman was sheer malevolence!

Elspeth’s mind was in shambles!

As someone accused of murder, she knew the feeling of being wronged all too well and began to hysterically defend herself, “I didn’t! I didn’t poison Cynthia with that stuff! You’re framing me!”

“Framing you? Then explain why your fingerprints are on the vial?”

Arnold’s gaze was as sharp as a blade, closing in, “Let’s reconstruct the events. You entered the room, concocted a story, and tricked Cynthia into taking the poison, leading to her demise. Fearing exposure, you threw her body off the balcony, crafting a suicide farce!”

Elspeth shook her head in frenzied denial, on the verge of collapse, “No, it wasn’t like that!”

Arnold’s expression shifted, and he stood abruptly, “Elspeth, let me tell you, Cynthia’s body is buried in the East End Cemetery. If her family consents, we can exhume the body for autopsy! Even if all that’s left is a skeleton, modern forensics can still detect whether she died from a fall or was poisoned!”

“No! I didn’t poison her!”

hands clutched at the bars, her bloodshot eyes wildly shaking the iron cage, “We got into a scuffle! I

spilled

were true; the relentless pursuit

no amount of deceit should have

her blood

was too

had uttered was heard clearly by everyone in the

silence was sepulchral.

Elspeth, as if to flay her

clenched his trembling fists, feeling every vein freeze, torment spreading from his convulsing heart to every limb.

at the cemetery, haunting him: “My mother never sought release in death. It was Elspeth.”

who had pushed Cynthia

woman had killed the love of his life, and he,

but wasn’t he complicit?

gaze filled with hatred as Cynthia’s image haunted him like a relentless nightmare.

though he hadn’t wept at Cynthia’s funeral. Now, he felt the urge to

worthless. And

his

He finally understood-

“crime scene reconstruction” was a farce, a pressure tactic

1/2

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Chapter 584

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