Page 6 of The Perfect Crime

While everything they’d learned so far matched up with Sarah Whitaker’s story, they couldn’t be certain that she hadn’t made the whole thing up and killed her husband herself.Jessie wanted to closely observe her reaction to Ryan’s next questions.

“Okay,” he said, turning his attention back to Whitaker, “so what happened after the intruder got into the house?”

The woman sighed heavily at the memory before answering.

"I started screaming and grabbed the home phone to call '911,' but he took it from me and threw it against the wall.Jim tried to stop him but couldn't stand up and fell on the floor.The man forced me to sit at the breakfast table and tied me up.I begged him to let us go, but he said I 'needed to see the show.'"

She paused for a moment to take another sip of water.But Jessie suspected it was also to regroup.Neither she nor Ryan spoke, waiting for her to continue.

“The ‘show’ was Jim dying over the course of several hours,” Whitaker said bitterly.“I kept pleading with the man to call for an ambulance, but he didn’t answer.He just kept staring down at Jim.At one point, I refused to watch, and he said that if I looked away, he’d slit Jim’s throat.So I started watching again.Looking back on it, maybe I should have refused.Then Jim wouldn’t have been in pain for so long.But some part of me kept hoping that the man would relent and help him or let me call ‘911.’”

“But he never did?”Ryan said quietly.

Whitaker shook her head.

“At one point, I asked why he was doing this,” she said.“He said I needed to experience the pain, that it would be good for me.When I asked why, he said it would all become clear eventually.”

“But he never gave you an answer?”Ryan asked.

"No, he mostly just sat there in his black ski mask," she said."Occasionally, he would check on Jim to see if he was still alive.For a while, he was awake but eventually he lost consciousness so the man would hold up a mirror to his mouth and nose to see if he was breathing.”

She paused for a few moments and Jessie thought that Ryan would have to prompt her but then she resumed.When she spoke again, there was a catch in her voice.

"One time he did that routine and there was nothing—no fog on the mirror, no blood pressure reading at all.He looked up at me and made this formal pronouncement that my husband had died at 10:41 pm Then he got up and left."

“He didn’t say anything else?”Jessie asked, speaking for the first time in a while.

“No,” Whitaker said.“He just left me tied up, alone with my husband’s dead body and all these terrible thoughts.I did the math in my head.From the time we got home around 9 pm until he died was close to two hours.There was lots of time to save him, if that madman would have allowed it.”

Jessie didn't say anything, but so far, every response from Whitaker, along with her body language, reinforced her credibility.One could never be completely certain, but Jessie was inclined to believe her story.

“How did you get free?”Ryan asked.

"For a long time, I didn't even try," Whitaker said."I just sat there, broken, trying to process what had happened.When I did finally work up the strength to try, it took forever.The man had zip-tied my hands together behind my back and then tied them to a leg of the table.I had to figure out how to press up on the bottom of the table, which was heavy, while getting my hands low enough to slide them out from under the table leg.I gave up multiple times.But then I started to get angry, and I used that fury.It gave me the power I needed to lift the table and slide out.Then I went to the kitchen and got a knife out.It took me a while to cut myself loose.That’s how I got these.”

She held up her hands to show the bandages on both wrists.That explained the blood that Jessie had seen on the zip ties and on the kitchen floor.

“Are we done?”Whitaker asked.

“Almost,” Ryan assured her.“We understand that your husband was an investment banker.Did he have any enemies?Ever mention a falling out with a co-worker or reference an angry client?”

“He didn’t really get into the details of his work with me,” Whitaker answered.“I mean, I know he played hardball and there were probably a lot of people who didn’t like him.But he never specifically mentioned anyone who made him feel physically threatened.”

Ryan nodded as if satisfied.

“Mrs.Whitaker,” he said carefully.“May we have permission to search the rest of your house and your husband’s office?”

“I assumed you already had,” she replied.

“We’ve done a cursory search of the crime scene but for something more involved, we need a warrant, unless you authorize us to go in without one.”

“Of course,” she said.“Do whatever you need to.I want this person caught.”

Suddenly, she gasped.

“What is it?”Jessie asked.

Whitaker shook her head, upset.

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