Final Analysis - Catherine Crier [20]
“No. But I mean it was unusual because it’s a holiday, and Gabe said he was going to be around. And usually he makes an appearance at the house. But since I’ve been back in the house, I’ve said not to just walk into the house. To knock at the door.”
“Didn’t you see him yesterday?”
“Oh, yeah, I did. Yesterday was Sunday. He and Adam got up around five to leave for UCLA with Gabe. And he was marching around the house, so I went down and said, ‘You know, you’re not supposed to be in the house.’”
“So, at some point, Adam came back from UCLA?” the detective asked.
“Yeah, Adam flew back on Friday.”
“This past Friday?”
“Uh, huh.”
“And Sunday you’re saying they all left to go back to UCLA?”
“Right. To drive Adam with the dog, ’cause Adam wanted his dog at UCLA.”
“And when did they get back, Gabe and your husband?”
Susan paused. “I’m not sure, I think Gabe walked in around nine or ten or something.”
“So they went down and back in one day?”
“Yeah, pretty miserable, but yeah.”
“Well okay, let me ask you this? When is the last time you saw your husband?”
“Sunday morning around five or five thirty when I came downstairs and chewed him out for just roaming around the house.”
“And then Gabe and your husband came back that night, Sunday night.”
“Yeah, Gabe walked in around ten probably and said, ‘Hi, Mom.’ I was in my bed.”
“Okay. Do you own any firearms?”
“Well, a number of years ago, probably sixteen, seventeen years…my husband had a patient who was an ATF agent and he took me out and helped me purchase a revolver…. I don’t remember, I think it’s like Smith and Wesson, something revolver.”
“Okay, so you bought a revolver?”
“Yes…. But I have not had that gun for a long time. He has had it. Since we separated, at least.”
“Where is the gun now?”
“He took it to his office, I don’t know.”
“Your husband took it?”
“Yeah.”
“How long ago did he take it?”
“A few years…maybe two years. I said I didn’t want to have a gun around the house.”
“So what’s all this about a shotgun that I heard about?” Detective Costa asked. “You supposedly said you were gonna get a shotgun.”
“No,” Susan replied, closing the shiny black police jacket tightly around her.
“You never had a shotgun?” the officer asked emphatically.
While Susan’s son, Gabriel, was in the adjacent room telling officers that he was certain his mother had a shotgun, and had used it to kill his father, Susan was insisting that it was Gabriel who had inquired about obtaining a gun.
“In fact, my son was talking to me today about how he wanted to have…have some gun that he had his heart set on,” Susan claimed. “And I was like, no, because it’s just not a good idea. And he was asking me what the gun laws were, and whether he could….
“So I said, ‘If you want a gun, go into the military and then you can, you know, get into all of that,’” Susan rambled on. “But no, you know, I don’t think you should.”
“Did he indicate that he already had one?” Detective Costa asked.
“Oh, God, no…. He’s a good boy. He’s going to continuation school, not because he’s been in, you know, trouble or anything. It’s mainly the divorce, divorce issues.”
It was then that Costa returned his attention to Susan’s actions after Gabriel found the body, asking Susan to recount the sequence of events once Gabriel made his gruesome discovery. Telling the detective of Gabriel’s assertion that she had murdered his father, Susan did not appear the least bit distraught that her son would make such a painful accusation. As she walked him through her activities leading up to the police officers’ arrival, Susan finished by telling him about how the officer that handcuffed her was the one to tell her that it appeared her husband had been killed.
“And what did you say to that?”
“I don’t remember exactly.”
“Okay, I mean if somebody gets told her husband was killed, I would expect some reaction, some sort of response.”
For nearly an hour, he had listened as the forty-four-year-old housewife rambled on about