GUILTY 31

Detective Gerald Sullivan Sunday May 21,2016 I’m back at the crime scene - Rosie Miller’s house - trying to put together this puzzle and figure out what exactly went on here. The crime scene unit is here as well, searching the house for anything that may be able to help us with this investigation. The life and death of Rosie Miller is an enigma I tend to solve. ‘Any word on the kid?’ I ask Robbins. She puts her phone away and faces me. ‘Nothing.’ ‘Dammit, now we have two children to find.’ ‘Do you still think Winston killed her?’ ‘I have no idea what to think right now. She was pregnant with his kid, after all. And apparently was raising his other one.’ ‘That is so messed up. How did he not know that they were sisters?’ I shrug. ‘It’s beyond me, really. I guess Rosie never mentioned anything to him.’ ‘Isn’t that a bit suspicious on its own? I mean, your sister kills herself, you raise her child, and then eleven years later have an affair with the father of that baby?’ ‘None of this makes sense.’ It’s quiet for a moment, both of us thinking. ‘It’s weird, right?’ she says. ‘One of his daughter’s goes missing on Thursday. The other one - who he didn’t even know existed - goes missing Friday.’ ‘She must have known who he was,’ I conclude. ‘There’s no way that this is just one big coincidence.’ ‘Did Antonia not tell him?’ Robbins asks. ‘About the baby, I mean. Back at UWC.’ ‘He seemed to be clueless on that aspect. Although, he did put two - and - two together about Clementine pretty quickly. So he must have known something.’ ‘But it doesn’t make sense - why would Winston take Emerald, kill Rosie, and then take Clementine? If what he claims is true, he had no idea the kid was even his.’ I nod, thinking this through. ‘You’re right. So perhaps Winston isn’t at fault here, although he is the only common denominator.’ ‘And Danny,’ ‘What?’ ‘She’s the only other piece of the puzzle that links everyone together.’ ‘You think she knew?’ ‘Maybe, Perhaps she knew about Antonia, the baby, the affair - everything.’ ‘And does what, exactly? Kidnaps her own child? Kills Rosie and takes Clementine?’ ‘Maybe.’ ‘That’s reaching.’ ‘I’ve seen worse.’ I shake my head. ‘None of this is adding up,’ I stop and look around the room. ‘We need to find that girl. Both of them. God only knows where they are at this point.’ We Both stand there, dumbfounded. A voice calls from upstairs. ‘Found something!’ Both Robbins and I turn our heads and follow where the voice came from . I run up the stairs, two at a time. When we get to the top, one of the crime scene analysts stands in the hallway, directing us to a bedroom at the end of the hall. Upon entering the room, my eyes immediately sweep the walls, taking in everything in front of me. Photographs, newspaper clippings, maps, drawings, all spread out and pinned to the wall, I edge closer, walking up to the wall to read the text, I turn and look at the desk that sits adjacent to the wall. The analyst approaches me, hands me two plane tickets he discovered in the desk drawer, Cape Town to OR Tambo, for the passengers Rosie and Clementine Miller. I return my gaze to the wall, My eyes immediately find a newspaper clipping of Winston from 2013 standing in front of his newly opened orthodontist practice. Waters’ Orthodontics. Beside it, pinned to the Wall, is a map of Davenmore. There’s a red sticker placed over the location where the Waters’ home is. I scan the paperwork posted across the wall, and finally, to the far left corner, an old, outdated newspaper clipping from 2005. HOMICIDE RULED OUT: DEATH OF TWENTY - YEAR - OLD UWC STUDENT DECLARED SUICIDE. Below the title is a photo of a young woman, brown eyes, light brown hair flowing over her shoulders. It’s a class photo. She’s smiling, looks happy. I don’t need to read the article to know that this woman is Antonia Miller. I walk back to the center of the wall, skimming over everything. But it’s the calendar that catches my eye, the date specifically that’s circled. Thursday May 18th. EMERALD…. I turn around and see the analyst standing there, holding what looks to be a black book in his hands. ‘What’s this?’ I take a step toward him. ‘We found it amongst her things, hidden in the desk drawer.’ He extends his arm and hands it to me. I take the book, which upon opening, discover is some sort of journal or diary. I flip it over in my hands, examining it. ‘You may want to take a read, Sir,’ the young man says to me. I look up and meet his eyes for a moment, then nod. I open the journal, scanning through the pages, gathering key words and sentences, stringing them together to form logical thoughts. Everything she has written in here over the past couple of years. Every single entry starts the same. Dear Toni… I flip through the pages, aiming to get to the very last entry. That’s what will help us put together the pieces. I nearly reach the end of the small book when the writing stops. I flip back a couple of pages and find the very last entry that was written. Friday May 19,2016 Dear Toni, Something went wrong. He Didn’t show at our drop - off location last night and won’t return my phone calls. I know I’m not supposed to call Him. He made that clear. But I couldn’t just sit here, clueless. I’m afraid something happened to the baby. We were supposed to meet at the warehouse by the river last night and make the exchange. But he never showed. And now I’m worried. I don’t know what to do. I can’t call the police because they’d know I had something to do with it. I’ve been seeing the Pink Alerts all day. Maybe I’ll just leave it up to the police and hope they find him themselves. I’ll pretend I had nothing to do with it. They can’t trace it back to me, can they? No, I didn’t even give him my real name. But he knows where to find me. Oh God, he could tell them where I live. Then they’ll know. They’ll make the connection through you. I lift my head to see Robbins and the analyst standing there, staring at me. They’re waiting for me to speak - to say something. But I’m not finished yet. I look down and flip back a page, to the entry right before the last. Wednesday May 10, 2016 Dear Toni, I feel so stupid right now. Stupid and used. I told him today. And do you know what he did? He left. Just as he always does. I can’t believe I let myself get sucked into his trap. Did I really think that things could be different? I did. That just shows how stupid I am. Fucking stupid. Please forgive me, sister. I know how ridiculous this all seems. But it will all make sense soon. Then you will see. I promise you. I flip through the pages, going back even further. Messy writing, sporadic thoughts. Journal entries dating back months ago. I flip to the very back again and stop when I see a page titled. Antonia’s story. ------- Rosie Miller Wednesday May 10,2016 Antonia’s Story Antonia was the greatest person I ever knew. Kind - hearted, friendly, determined. She was more than just a sister - she was my best friend. The sole person who I could share everything with. The person who was always there for me through thick and thin. The person I relied on the most. She may have been younger than me, but I looked up to her so much. She always knew what she wanted to do with her life, having ambitions bigger than I ever dreamed. She was going to be a lawyer. She wanted to bring justice to people who deserved it. Ironic, isn’t it? She was far too young to be taken from this world. Only twenty - years - old when she took her own life. And it’s all his fault. This is the story of my sister, Antonia Miller, and the reason she ended her own life. Winston Waters. Let me tell you about him so you understand what he did and why he is to blame. Antonia met him during her first year at UWC. He was cute and charming and she thought it was love. They dated for a couple of months, off and on, but she always suspected he was secretly seeing other people. She didn’t want to believe it was true because she was so in love with him. But there was no denying what kind of man he was. But then, in June, just after her first year of University was finishing, she told me that she was pregnant, and that the baby was his. It had to be -- he was the only one she had been with. And when tried to tell him, he disregarded her. He said that she knew his family had money and that she was lying to get money from him. But as the months progressed and her stomach began to expand, it was clear that she wasn’t lying. She would cry to me at night because she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t raise the baby on her own. Our family didn’t come from a lot of money and our parents weren’t supportive of her choice to keep the child. She was running out of options. And that man didn’t even do anything to help. He refused that the baby was his. Said he couldn’t be forced to pay child support. What a despicable excuse of a man. So then, on February fourth, 2005, she gave birth to a little angel. She didn’t have a name for her at first. I told her that she didn’t need to rush. That she could wait and figure it out in time. But that time never came. Because only two short weeks after the baby was born, Antonia. My best friend and only sister, killed herself. She overdosed on a bunch of pills. Left the bottle on the nightstand. I didn’t believe it at first. How could she do such a thing? And why? I was convinced that she was murdered. That somebody broke into our home and forced the pills down her throat. But a few days later, they found the suicide note under the baby’s crib. She explained in the note how she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t handle being a mother. It was all too much for her. The doctors said it was postpartum depression. But Toni wasn’t depressed - she had simply run out of options. The real reason she killed herself? Winston. He Didn’t support her or give her any money. No wonder she thought she couldn’t do it on her own! I knew it was his fault. I knew it from that moment on. At the bottom of the note, my sister wrote the baby’s name, it was Clementine. My parents and I raised Clementine together for the first few years of her life, just until I could get my schooling and finance figured out. I finished my four years at Dux University with a Bachelor of Science in nursing. I did my placement at UWC Memorial where I specialized in births. Once I had my life sorted out, I legally adopted Clementine and she became mine. I raised Clementine to the best of my abilities. We moved on from the trauma of the past and created a good life for ourselves. But I never forgot what that man did to my sister. It’s his fault, and his fault only, that she is gone. No longer will I remain silent and take this secret to the grave. It’s time to expose that man and the truth that I’ve been holding onto for eleven years. It’s time to finally bring justice to my sister. I sheltered Clementine from this news. Yes, he may have been responsible for creating her, but he was not her father. I didn’t want her ever knowing that such a despicable man shared the same genes as her. I had no plans of ever introducing the two of them, and so eventual, any and all thoughts of Winston Waters left my mind. But then three years after seeing his picture in the newspaper, something substantial happened - he and wife had a baby. I was working that day, running on only four hours of sleep from my nightshift. And that was when I saw him in the hallway, walking to the nursery. I recognized him immediately, those broad shoulders, his blue eyes. He was obviously much different looking that he was in university, but still the same Winston. It wasn’t difficult to find out which room his wife was in, which baby was his. The sight of him alone was enough to bring back all of those horrible memories. I had forgotten all about him, put him completely out of my mind. But then here he was again, and this time, with a baby. His first - born. Or so he thought. It enraged me that he was starting a family with this woman. He was so ignorant to everything he had done in the past. It was then - that night in the hospital - that my plan began to form. I wanted to make him pay. I wanted to bring justice to my sister. So I began brainstorming ways I could execute this plot for righteousness. I knew the best course of action was blackmail. If I could extort money from him, I’d not only shake - up his perfect little world, but I could get some money from him - money that he never gave to Antonia when she needed it. If we’re being honest, that money rightfully belonged to Clementine. All those years that he neglected to acknowledge her existence or pay child support. All the years he was missing from her life. The thought crossed my mind that I could have taken him to court years ago, get a judge to subpoena him for DNA evidence. But I had no money back then. And I’d have to be a complete idiot to go against a family as wealthy and as powerful as the Waters’. They’d take me down and make me look like the bad guy. It simply wasn’t an option. And then I had another idea. I could cause him the same pain and suffering that he caused me and my family after Antonia’s death. And the only way to do that was to show him what life is like without your daughter. I know what you’re thinking, that I’m a horrible person. But you have to understand, I never intended to harm the child in any way. The baby was simply a means to an end. A way to get vengeance on Winston. I obviously couldn’t kidnap the child myself - I would never get involved in such an illegal matter. So I turned to the dark - web, where anything and everything is possible. It Didn’t take me long to find a guy for hire. It was the beginning of March when I became acquainted with a man named Teddy. I told him my name was Margery. We made a deal. In exchange for R20 000.00, he would abduct the baby, bring her to me, and his job was done. I’d take it from there. R20 000.00 was a small price to pay, considering I’d make the money back from extortion money. Winston had plenty of that to go around,. From that point on, I would keep the child safe with me while simultaneously sending anonymous letters to Winston requesting large sums of money in exchange for his child. Once he transferred over one - million rands, I would arrange a drop - off location where he would find his baby. It was the perfect plan - or so I thought… TO BE CONTINUED....

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in..