a twelve year old kid with a lead pipe, he’d be dead. That woman, she used to deal, but she did her own product. When she did it, she did a lot. That’s why they call her
“If she was the dealer, why did she call the cops on you?” Corbin countered.
Beaumont turned to face Corbin again. “’Cause she got in trouble with child services. That woman was in serious need of a exorcism. She smacked her kid around, and they want to take the kid away. So she blamed me.”
“And the bruises on the child-”
“Was caused by her.”
“She vanished without a trace after calling the cops,” Corbin said in a calmer tone that implied less doubt about Beaumont’s tale.
“She disappear when her old man come looking for her. Left the kids and everything.” Beaumont matched Corbin’s calmer tone.
“Who is the old man?” Corbin asked, continuing to soften his tone.
“Don’t know, she used to call him Methadone Man, said he had an occasional girlfriend called Crystal, and that made him crazy.”
“He was on methadone or crystal meth?” Beckett interrupted.
“He done both.”
“She never gave you a real name for Methadone Man?” Corbin asked.
“Said his name was Roy, that’s all I know.”
“Do you know where we can find Roy?”
Beaumont smirked. “Roy got sentenced by Judge Colt and his jury of six. Shame too, right after he busted his paper.”
“Busted his-?”
“Finished his parole. Then the fool got hisself shot,” Beaumont explained.
“Who killed him?”
“I don’t know, we weren’t that close.”
“Do you know where he was killed?” Corbin asked.
“I ain’t got no idea. I never heard nothin’ about it.”
“Did they ever arrest anyone for it?”
“I said, I don’t know.”
“Where is David Carson today?” Corbin asked.
Beaumont froze for a second. “I don’t know.”
“Isn’t he in prison in Tennessee?” Corbin asked, pulling a court record from Tennessee from the file. It indicated that David Carson was convicted of the murder of Roy Jackson and an unidentified woman during, what Carson claimed, was a drug deal gone wrong.
“How would I know?!” he blurted out, stumbling over the words. He looked shocked.
“You said he was your friend.”
“No, I said he owed me money!”
“Do you know the name of the child services agent?”
“The what?!” Beaumont asked, completely surprised.
“What was the name of the child services agent who investigated CarrieFey?” Corbin sharpened his tone.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s easy enough to find out.” Corbin wrote something on his legal pad.
Beaumont’s face flushed. “They ain’t gonna remember,” he stammered.
“Child services keeps a record of all investigations,” Corbin said matter-of-factly, as he nonchalantly flipped through his notes.
“She might’a been lying.”
Corbin looked up. “Excuse me?!”
“When she said she was being investigated, she could’a been lying.”
“Let’s move on,” Corbin said, frowning and shaking his head. He paused to look at his notes, letting Beaumont sweat. It took about five seconds for Beaumont to break.
“Hold on, hold on! If that bitch lie to me, I don’t want you thinkin’ I did nothin’.”
“Are you telling me you want to change your story?” Corbin feigned surprise.
Beaumont looked around nervously, but remained silent. He bit his lip. Corbin took advantage of Beaumont’s nervousness to press harder.
“Tell me about Letricia Gittner.”
“What about her?”
“Oh, I don’t know. . tell me why you raped her and killed her?”
Beaumont almost jumped out of his chair, but the shackles yanked him back down. “I ain’t never raped nobody, and I didn’t kill her!”
“Then I take it you didn’t shoot your girlfriend Mona Hampton either?”
“I ain’t never shot or raped nobody!”
Corbin laughed. “Do you know your accent changes when you get angry?”
“Fuck you, man!”
Beckett started to interrupt, but Corbin cut him off. “Ok, you didn’t kill her. Tell me what happened?”
“What do you want to know?!” Beaumont barked.
“Do you deny being at the scene?”
“No.”
“Then tell us what happened. It’s a simple question.” Corbin stared unwaveringly into Beaumont’s eyes.
Beaumont breathed heavily. Sweat visibly soaked his shirt. His eyes shifted around the room. “I got a text. It was Letricia. Me and her been going at it behind my girl Mona’s back. Letricia tells me, she wants $10,000 or she’s gonna tell Mona. I agreed to meet her.” Beaumont paused, waiting to see if Corbin would interrupt; he didn’t. “When I get there, she tells me she don’t care about the money, she just wants me.”
“Was Mona present?” Beckett asked.
“No. Not at first.” Beaumont eased back into his chair and relaxed his shoulders. “I start thinking, I can keep a good thin’ going. So I start talkin’ to her like we still lovers. Soon we’re gettin’ down.”
“Where did you do it?” Corbin asked.
“Right there on the floor.”
“Not on the bed?”
“Naw, she’s freaky like that.” Beaumont glanced at Beckett before continuing. “When I’m getting dressed, Mona shows up. She’s pissed. She read the text and she followed me. She’s got a gun. . big fuckin’ cannon. She starts rantin’ and shit. Next thing I know, she puts the gun to Letricia’s head and pulls the trigger. Bam! I’m across the room, but I get covered in blood and shit. I’m thinking, ‘Fuck, this bitch gonna do me next,’ so I doved behind the television.” He glanced at Beckett again.
“And?” Corbin prodded him.
“Next thing I know she starts screamin’ and cryin’. I look up and see her blow her own brains out.”
“Mona shot Letricia and then turned the gun on herself?” Corbin repeated skeptically.
“It’s true man.”
“And what did you do next?”
“I ran like a motherfucker. Man, I know the cops. They were gonna pin this on me, so I took off.”
“Where did you run?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where did the police find you?”
“At home.”
“So you went straight home?”
“I don’t remember, it was all a blur.”
“Was Letricia sitting or standing when she was shot?”
