“Ma’am, I have orders to take you into the station for questioning.” He walked her to his car, steering her with her hands.
“What about my husband’s car? He’ll be very upset if anything happens to his car.” Claire’s voice sounded as desperate as she felt.
“Another officer is on her way. She’ll drive your car to the station. It’ll be kept in impound until it’s picked up or you’re released.” He kept listening to his shoulder. “The other officer will be here in a few minutes.”
“We better not leave until she gets here. I’m serious about my husband. He can become very upset. You don’t want to be the person he gets hold of if anything happens to his car.” She didn’t want to be that person either. Sitting in the backseat of the patrol car, she heard the door slam and had the sensation of a popping balloon—once full, now completely deflated. Freedom was sweet and gone.
When they pulled up to the Illinois State Police Station 56, Claire watched the Mercedes drive around the building. Worrying about the car was silly, but she didn’t want to give Tony more ammunition for his punishment. The officer directed her into the station. Multiple uniformed and plain-clothed officers met them at the door. She was then directed to a dingy room where the smell of stale coffee and perspiration filled her senses. The only furniture was a steel gray table with two metal chairs. Claire sat in one of the cold chairs as the officer removed the cuffs. Rubbing her wrists, she looked at him and sounded convincingly resilient. “Sir, I am Mrs. Anthony Rawlings. I’m sure you have heard of my husband or at least had contact with one of his companies. I recommend you release me right now, and I won’t tell him about this incident.”
He didn’t respond and left her alone, where she waited. Feeling the twisting within her stomach, she knew what was coming. Tony was probably on his way. Flying would get him there in less than an hour. The next time the door opened, she would see his dark eyes. The only sound within the small room was that familiar pounding within her head. As she waited, she resolved herself to the consequences she’d face at home.
She broke the most important rule many times, and now it was public. There was no way this wouldn’t be on the news. She waited. The door opened. A female officer entered. “Mrs. Rawlings, would you like a drink, water, or diet soda?”
“Thank you, I’d like some water.” Then she waited, some more. The next time the door opened, she looked toward the table. Enough time had passed. This had to be Tony.
“Mrs. Rawlings, I’m Sergeant Miles and this…” Pointing to the man on his left. “…is FBI Agent Ferguson.”
“Hello. I’m confused. Why is an FBI agent here?”
“We would like to ask you some questions about today.” Claire nodded. “Ma’am, you must speak. Our conversation is recorded and movements can’t be heard on an audiotape.”
Claire hated recordings, audio or visual. “Yes, please go ahead and ask me anything. I was just driving my husband’s car and forgot my driver’s license.”
“Ma’am, what time did you leave your residence outside of Iowa City?” Agent Ferguson asked as Sergeant Miles took notes.
Claire wondered if the audio recording wasn’t thorough enough. “I left at 11:15 AM.” That was easy. She’d looked at the dashboard clock.
“Did you see your husband before you left?”
“Do you mean did I ask my husband if I could leave? No.”
“No, ma’am. I meant what I asked. Did you see your husband before you left your residence?”
“Yes. I saw him just before 11:00 AM. He was in his office about to start a web conference.”
“A web conference?” Sargent Miles asked.
“It’s a conference that’s live on the Internet. You know, on the web.” The officers continued to ask questions about times and people. Claire told them the house staff were all present, except for their driver, Eric. He left before her, going to Mr. Rawlings’s office to retrieve some paperwork for her husband. Had Claire told anyone she was leaving the house? She shook her head, then remembered the audio tape, she answered, “No.” Why would she drive over five hours without her purse or telling anyone where she was going? She really didn’t have a good answer. She couldn’t tell them she didn’t have access to her own ID, and she wasn’t allowed to go out by herself. If she did, she’d be breaking his rules, and when Tony arrived he’d be livid. Suddenly, she realized he was probably watching from behind a window right now. She felt her stomach twist. Her only choice was ignorance. “I don’t know. The sky was so pretty, and Iowa can get so gray. I guess I just wanted to go somewhere warmer.”
“Mrs. Rawlings, you should know your husband will survive.” Agent Ferguson’s tone was flat.
Claire didn’t understand. Survive? Like he would crumble because she left him? “I’m not sure what you mean. Why wouldn’t he survive?”
“Mrs. Rawlings, someone tried to kill your husband today. He was poisoned at approximately 11:15 AM this morning.” Agent Ferguson answered as Sergeant Miles observed Claire.
She shook her head, trying to make sense of his words, but they didn’t make sense. Tony was fine when she left—same as always. “You’re mistaken. Mr. Rawlings had a web conference at 11:00 AM, where he was speaking with many people from his corporation.” Her speech quickened as did her heart rate.
“Yes, he was supposed to be; however, after the web conference began his associates witnessed him take a drink from a mug and suddenly slump to his side. Many of the viewers attempted to reach him via cell phone, but he didn’t move. Luckily, one of the house staff heard the phones ringing and entered the office. They were able to fly him by helicopter to a hospital in Iowa City. His vitals are good, although he has yet to regain consciousness. The doctors believe he’ll make a full recovery. I’m here representing the FBI, because this is an attempted murder investigation which has crossed state lines.” Agent Ferguson spoke as if he was addressing a suspect.
“I need to get to him immediately.” Claire stood as she spoke. Sergeant Miles directed her back toward the chair. She was dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, are you accusing me of murdering my husband?”
“No, ma’am, your husband wasn’t murdered. You are being questioned regarding an attempted murder investigation.”
She was stunned. “You’re accusing me of hurting him? You should know, no one hurts Anthony Rawlings. If anything he’s hurt me, numerous times.”
“So, are you claiming self-defense?”
Claire’s neck stiffened, her voice became defiant. “I’m not claiming anything. I did nothing that needs claiming.”
“Mrs. Rawlings, do you have any idea what was in the mug that your husband drank from?”
She knew exactly what was in that mug: coffee, made by her. “Yes, officer. I would assume the mug contained coffee. Just before I left, I took him a cup of coffee.” Her stomach was now a tangle of knots.
“You and your husband don’t have household servants who usually prepare the food and drinks?”
“We do, but he asked me to get him coffee.” Claire definitely didn’t like how this was going. “I believe I need an attorney.”
“Ma’am, you haven’t yet been charged; however, asking for representation is your right. Be aware your husband’s legal counsel has sent word that representing you would be a conflict of interest. You’ll need to secure your own counsel.”
“I would like to call John Vandersol, my brother-in-law.” As the words left her mouth she remembered John’s incarceration. “No, wait, I can’t.”
Another officer entered the room and began to talk with Sergeant Miles. After the two whispered, Sergeant Miles spoke. “Mrs. Claire Rawlings, my commanding officer has informed me the prosecuting attorney of Iowa City believes there’s enough circumstantial evidence to hold you in this facility overnight and transport you back to Iowa City in the morning. The chief prosecutor of Iowa believes he will have an official warrant for your arrest signed by the judge by the time you arrive.”
Claire heard the
words but couldn’t comprehend their meaning. Her internal voice tried to replay the day: I dressed in what I was told, was in Tony’s office at the time he told me to be, and asked like a five-year-old if I could go outside. This morning I poured my husband a cup of coffee, the coffee he asked me to get. Now, I am about to be charged with attempted murder?
Another officer directed Claire to a cell. It was small, clean, and had a door that locked. Worried about Tony, she couldn’t sleep. There was no one at home that morning, except the two of them and the regular staff. Everyone on the staff had been with Tony for years, and he implicitly trusted them. None of them would hurt him. She worried. Had he regained consciousness? Was the poison in the coffee in the pot? Maybe it was in the cream?
Claire wanted them to try to find the real criminal before he tried to hurt Tony again. Claire knew when Tony regained consciousness, he’d tell them she didn’t—couldn’t—do this and take her home.
Chapter Forty-Eight
No one can make you feel inferior without your permission.
—Eleanor Roosevelt
Yesterday, Claire drove in a luxurious Mercedes Benz to St. Louis. The trip back to Iowa City, riding in the back of a police wagon, wearing handcuffs and accompanied by a uniformed officer, wasn’t as comfortable. When they arrived, the county courthouse steps were filled with reporters and photographers. Claire tried to shield her face as people took pictures from all directions and shouted questions. “Why did you try to kill your husband?” “Did you do it for the money?” “Did you think you would get away with it?” Thankfully, the police rushed her through the crowd and into the building.
She couldn’t believe what she heard. How could they possibly be asking such questions? Claire worried about Emily: first John and now her. What must she be going through? Claire reassured herself, once Tony wakes, he’ll take care of everything.
The officer took Claire to another room with a table, and Marcus Evergreen entered. She recognized him immediately. He attended her wedding, and she accompanied Tony to one of his fund-raisers. Claire thought Tony donated to his campaign. “Mrs. Rawlings, I’m Marcus Evergreen, chief prosecutor for Johnson County.”
“Yes, Mr. Evergreen, I believe we’ve met.” Claire held out her hand. Mr. Evergreen didn’t accept.
“Yes, I believe we have; however, this is a different situation and different circumstances. Mrs. Rawlings, I’m currently holding a warrant for your arrest recently signed by Judge Reynolds. Just so you know, before we reach the district courtroom for your arraignment, you’re being charged with the attempted murder of your husband, Anthony Rawlings.”
“I want you to know I didn’t do such a thing. I wouldn’t do such a thing. How is Tony?” When Claire added the last question, Mr. Evergreen’s eyes dropped to the table. Claire’s heart sank. Oh my God, he’s dead! No, then he would have said murder not attempted.
“He’s awake and conscious. He’s given a statement to the police, but he won’t be here today.”
Claire was relieved to hear he was conscious, but she needed him to be here. He would help and take her home. She wanted to explain things to him. There was no doubt he’d be upset about her leaving and driving. And there would be consequences; however, Claire was confident he’d know she would never try to kill him.
“I’m very happy he’s better. Can you tell me what evidence there is against me?” Claire didn’t know how this worked, but she thought she needed to find out.
“It will be discussed with you and your attorney after the arraignment.” He left the room.
With her wrists once again in handcuffs, Claire was led into the courtroom. She watched the proceedings from a distance, seeing it all, yet not comprehending it as reality. Judge Reynolds spoke, asking questions of Mr. Evergreen. He explained how the state believed it had sufficient evidence to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Mrs. Claire Rawlings did willfully and maliciously attempt to murder her husband, Anthony Rawlings, in an effort to profit financially. Furthermore, Mrs. Rawlings fled the scene of the crime and was found near St. Louis. Mrs. Rawlings has access to a passport and the financial ability to flee. Mr. Evergreen asked the judge to suspend bail.
Judge Reynolds said, “Mrs. Rawlings, do you understand that you’re being charged with a felony: attempted murder? And if convicted, you could be sentenced to a federal penitentiary for a length not to exceed 162 months?”
“Yes, Judge, I understand.” That wasn’t true. She didn’t understand.
“Are you aware that you have the right to an attorney? If you cannot afford one, one can be appointed for you. You also have the right to a trial by a jury of your peers. You also are presumed innocent. It is the burden of the state to prove your guilt. Do you understand your rights?”
“Yes, Judge, I understand.” Claire maintained eye contact with the bench. She had a lot of practice maintaining eye contact in difficult situations.
“Mrs. Rawlings, do you have an attorney?”
“No, Judge. I do not, and I can’t afford one.”
“The court will appoint one to you following the arraignment.” Judge Reynolds reviewed the file before her. “Due to the publicity and significance of the victim, I’m setting bond at five million dollars. I’m also scheduling a preliminary conference for eleven days from today, Tuesday, February 1. Next case…” Her gavel struck the bench, echoing throughout the courtroom.
A guard escorted Claire to a holding cell. She sat in the ten-by-seven cubicle waiting for her attorney. The seclusion should have upset her, but she was too confused to focus. They told her once her attorney arrived, her bond could be posted, and she could leave. Claire knew that wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t have enough money for a sandwich at McDonald’s, much less two-point-five-million-dollars for bond.
It was after 3:00 PM before she was once again taken to the small room with the table. A short while later, the door opened and a young man, Paul Task, entered carrying a briefcase, laptop, and wearing a cheap suit. Claire’s first thought was that he looked more like a high school student than an attorney.
“Hello, Mrs. Rawlings. I’m your attorney, Paul Task. I just want you to know that I’m so honored to work on your case. Mr. Rawlings has long been an inspiration to us in Iowa. Everyone has so much respect for him. Why did you try to kill him? Was it because you didn’t have a prenuptial agreement? I mean, for the money?”
“No! I didn’t do this. It’s a terrible misunderstanding. I know once my husband is better he’ll help me. He knows I wouldn’t do this to him.”
“Yes, of course, Mrs. Rawlings…”
After Mr. Task informed the court that Mrs. Rawlings wouldn’t be able to post bond, she was officially charged with a felony. They took her personal property: her jewelry and clothes. They took her picture, her fingerprints, and did a chemical test on her hands. A female officer offered her a prison jumpsuit, underwear, and a bra: Claire accepted it all.
For the next five days Claire waited and responded appropriately to her counsel. She met daily with Paul Task and his associate Jane Allyson. They asked questions, and she maintained her innocence. She told them repeatedly the events of the morning in question. She never broke Tony’s rules. When he came to save her, she would be able to tell him she maintained his confidence. She would explain to him, she drove away, but she had decided to turn around. She hadn’t left him, only left the estate,, for a while. She would apologize, accept his punishment, and life could resume.
She spent untold hours wondering who poisoned Tony. The answer to that question could save her from 162 months in prison. Unfortunately, all the evidence pointed to Claire. She’d given Tony the mug of coffee at approximately 11:00 AM, in plain view of fifteen people via a Rawlings Industries web conference. He took a drink from that mug and suddenly lost consciousness. The video footage from their home security showed Claire pouring coffee in the kitchen and carrying the coffee to his office. The desk area wasn’t covered by cameras, but Claire was seen walking away from
the desk without the mug.
To make this evidence worse, there was video from the garage of Claire telling Eric to go to Iowa City to get paperwork from Mr. Rawlings’s office. Anthony’s secretary, Patricia, provided a sworn statement that she didn’t have contracts for Mr. Rawlings, and furthermore, she hadn’t spoken to him that morning. Being Tony’s primary source of transportation, having Eric gone would help ensure that the poison would have time to work. The same camera in the garage captured Claire taking the keys to the Mercedes and hurrying to the car. The significance of this car was that it was the only car in the garage registered under the name Claire Rawlings.
Claire was shocked. “It can’t be registered in my name. I don’t drive.” Paul showed her a copy of the registration. The same one she handed to the policeman but hadn’t read. According to the dealership, Mr. Rawlings came in himself last December and paid cash. It was his wife’s Christmas present and had less than a thousand miles on it.
Her statement regarding no valid driver’s license also proved erroneous. Apparently, she did have an identification card with the name Claire Rawlings, but her driver’s license from Georgia under the name Claire Nichols was still valid. Paul couldn’t understand how Claire wouldn’t know.
She tried to explain, “Tony did everything.”
Paul didn’t understand, and told her it would be difficult to convince a jury.
With the court ordered preliminary conference six days away. Iowa furnished Claire with clothes for a pre-examination conference: a meeting that would set the tone and direction for the preliminary conference. The pre-examination was usually attended by the prosecuting attorneys, the defense attorneys, and the defendant, Claire; however, unbeknownst to the defendant, the victim requested to make an appearance. The judge agreed. The goal of this meeting was to determine if a trial could be avoided, and an agreement made. The victim convinced the judge, he could help facilitate that end.
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