Falling forward, I tear at his hands, and as I resist, my vision swims, but there, in my hand, are my keys. The lights of the train grow brighter, brighter. The brakes are shrieking, wind tunneling around me, when with the last of my strength, I stab the key into his thigh and run for the exit as the screech of the train muffles his scream.
—
Somehow I’ve lostmy phone in the struggle, so once I get to the police station, a couple of blocks away, I call Nate to let him know I’m okay. After assuring him I’ll be home as soon as I give a statement, I get called into a back room to meet with the detective.
“I’m Detective Gary.” Detective Gary sits across from me, a tall white man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair and tired eyes with gray, sagging skin beneath them, the gruff, macho kind of guy. “I’ve spoken to Detective Simmons about your case.”
I manage a nod. My heart is thudding fast, a giant moth trapped behind my rib cage.
“I’ll be recording this conversation.” Gary takes out a notepad and flips to a clean page. “Can you tell me what happened tonight?”
I force myself to meet the detective’s eyes. They’re not exactly kind. “A man named Matthew DuPont followed me in the train station and tried to push me onto the tracks.” It’s hard to keep my voice even.
Gary writes this down. “And, according to our records, this was the same person you reported yesterday?”
I nod. “Yes. That was around sevenp.m.last night. I’d just gotten home from work, and there was a black SUV waiting outside our building. I’m pretty sure it was him.”
“Pretty sure…Did you get a good look at him?”
“No—but my daughter did—my five-year-old girl—and she said he gave her candy at school.” I hand him the note Dani gave me. “Matthew was threatening my daughter, and now he’s tried to kill me.”
Gary studies the note, then passes it to another officer who is standing by the door. “How do you know it was him outside your house?”
“After what happened tonight, who else would it have been? I want to press charges.”
“I understand.” Gary runs a hand over his chin. “We’re reviewing the CCTV footage.”
“Then you’ll see what I’m talking about.”
“Tell me, Ms. Banks.” Gary flips the page on his notebook. “What is the nature of your relationship with Mr. DuPont?”
I look at him strangely. What is he getting at? “He was myeconomics professor…My sister had a class with him too, and I think he found out that she was looking into a crime he was involved with.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I gave Detective Simmons her notebook, she had written about him.” Heat rushes to my face. Hadn’t she told him about it? “Naomi was working with a reporter at theTimes.They were writing an article about him, trying to expose him, and he must have found out. He’s threatening us because I know it was him. He killed my sister.” I’m breathing hard as Gary writes this down.He attacked me. I have evidence. We’ve got him.
Gary exchanges a glance with the officer, then turns his attention back to me. “Ms. Banks…Ms. Vail and Mr. DuPont came into the station this morning. Ms. Vail claimed you were acting erratically, harassed her over the phone, followed her Tuesday morning and assaulted her in the 28th Street station. Does she have any basis for thinking this?”
My mouth feels dry. I swallow. Shake my head.
Gary sighs. “We’ll give you a call once we’ve reviewed the CCTV footage, but Ms. Banks, in the meantime, it is in your best interest to stay away from them. For your own sake.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Naomi
Tuesday, May 23, 2023, three days before her death
I asked Ben to meetme for breakfast at Sterling Club. I want to tell him that I tried to get in touch with DuPont’s fiancée, maybe not to warn her exactly, but to see what she knows.
When I see Ben, he gives me a hug, but it’s quick and casual, the kind of hug you’d give a friend. He knows I’m still hurting after finding out the truth about Liam, and I’m glad he’s giving me space. I’m also glad he’s not making me feel bad about this outcome…even though he’d predicted it.
“I’ve gotta show you this—you’re not going to believe it,” Ben says, after I sit down next to him. I wrap my hands around my coffee and look at his laptop, where a spreadsheet fills the screen. “After all the shitsomeonegave me for being treasurer of Sterling…” he teases. “I think I might have just found what you need.”
I give him a look. “What is this?”
“The Sterling Club books. These are last year’s Q3 numbers.”
