MR. JONES: My investments were for them-Cindy and the kids. I wanted them to have some kind of financial stability, because teaching school sure won't give you that. That was before I realized what she was doing.
bET. STURGIS: By 'doing,' you mean sexual behavior?
MR. JONES: Exactly. With everything that walked in through the door.
The children weren't even mine, but I took care of them anyway. I'm a soft touchit's something I need to work on.
bET. S'rr'RGIS: Uh-huh... Was Chad yours?
MR. JONES: Not a chance.
bET. SrvRGIS: How do you know?
MR. JONES: One look at him. He was the spitting image of a roofer we had working out on the tract. Spitting imagetotal clone.
bET. STURGIS: Is that why you killed him?
MR. JONES: Don't be tedious, Detective. Chad died of sudden infant
death syndrome.
bET. STURGIS: How can you be sure?
MR. JONES: Textbook case. I read up on it SIDS-after the little guy died. Trying to understand to work it through. It was a horrible time for me. He wasn't my flesh and blood, but I still loved him.
bET. SrvRGIS: Okay, let's move on. Your mother. Why'd you kill her?
MR. TOKARI~: I object!
MR. JONES: YoufuckbET. S'rI'RGIS: See, I did some studying, too MR.
JONES: You fat fuMR. TOKARIK: I object! I most strenuously object to this bET. STURGIS: trying to understand you, Prof. Talked to people all about your mom. You'd be amazed at how willing people are to talk once someone's down MR. JONES: You are stupid. You are psychotic and... and egregiously stupid and ignorant. I should have known better than to bare my soul to someone like MR. TOKARIK: Chip bET. STURGIS: One thing they all agree on was that old Mom was a hypochondriac.
Healthy as a horse but convinced she was terminally ill. One person I spoke to said her bedroom was like a hospital room-that she actually had a hospital bed. With the little table? All these pills and syrups lying around. Needles too. Lots of needles. She stick herself, or get you to do it?
MR. JONES: Oh, God...
MR. TOKARIK: Take my handkerchief, Chip. Detective, I demand that you cease this line of questioning.
DET. S'rURGIS: Sure. Bye.
MR. JONES: She was the one who did the sticking! Herself and me-she hurt me! Vitamin B-12 shots twice a day.
Protein shots. Antihistamine shots, even though I wasn't allergic to anything! My bottom was her fucking pincushion!
Antibiotics the minute I coughed. Tetanus shots if I got a scrape. I was the Azazel goat-cod liver oil and castor oil, and ill threw it up, I had to clean it up and to take a double dosage. She could always get hold of medicine because she used to be a nurse-that's how she met him.
Army hospital, he was wounded at Anzio-big hero. She took care of him, but to me she was a sadistic maniac-you have no idea what it was like!
bET. STURGIS: Sounds like no one protected you.
MR. JONES: No one! It was a living hell. Every day brought a new surprise. That's why I hate surprises. Hate them. Detest them.
bET. S'rURGIS: You prefer everything planned out, huh?
