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?
MR. JONES: Organization. I like organization.
bET. S’rURGIS: Sounds like your dad let you down.
MR. JONES: (laughs) That’s his hobby.
bET. S”rURGIS: So you go your own way.
MR. JONES: Mother’s the- Necessity’s the mother of invention.
(laughs) Thank you, Herr Freud.
bET. S’rURGIS: Getting back to mom for a minute MR. JONES: let’s
not.
bET. S’:rURGIS: The way she died-Valium O.D plastic bag over the head
guess we’ll never prove it wasn’t suicide.
MR. JONES: That’s because it was. And that’s all I have to say about
that.
bET. S’rURGIS: Want to say anything about why you hung two pictures
she painted in your house but really low to the ground? What was that,
a symbolic demeaning or something?
MR. JONES: I have nothing to say about that.
bET STURGIS: Uh-huh. .. yeah. . . So what you’re trying to tell me
is, you’re the victim and this is all a big misunderstanding.
MR. JONES: (unintelligible) bET. S’rURGIS: What?
MR. JONES: Context, Detective. Context.
DET. STURGIS: New lens.
MR. JONES: Exactly.
DET. STuRGis: Your reading up on sudden infant death was because you
were trying to understand your . . . Chad’s death?
MR. JONES: Exactly.
bET. STURGIS: Did you read up on Munchausen syndrome by proxy because
you were trying to understand Cassie’s illnesses?
MR. JONES: As a matter of fact, I did. Research is what I’m trained
to do, Detective. All the experts seemed to be baffled by Cassie’s
symptoms. I figured I’d learn what I could.
bET. STURGIS: Dawn Herbert said you were once pre-med.
MR. JONES: Very briefly. I lost interest.
bET. STURGIS: Why?
MR. JONES: Too concrete, no imagination involved. boctors are really
nothing more than glorified plumbers.
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