Strong and physically capable, Victor pushed the sedan to the unguarded edge of the bridge and sent it into the water. The river took it, and the mud covered it. Within an hour, the surface looked ordinary again.
He went home, put a kettle on the stove, and sat down at the kitchen table. That evening, he calmly told worried guests that the young couple had left town. Once the detective assembled the witness statements, forensic findings, and circumstantial evidence, Victor was formally brought in for questioning.
The seventy-year-old suspect came to the station on his own, sat down in the chair provided, and folded his hands in his lap. His face was dry and lined, but still unreadable. Detective Mercer laid out the photographs: the recovered car, the ruined dress, the tire iron from the trunk.
Victor glanced over them as if they were routine paperwork. Then the detective made the move he had been preparing for all week. He placed the wedding photo on top of the rest—the one showing Natalie smiling in her veil.
For the first time, Victor went still. His face did not change, but his left hand tightened into a fist on his knee. For an experienced investigator, that was enough.
The detective said quietly but firmly that he knew what had happened on the bridge. He told Victor there was no point continuing the act and invited him to make a full statement. Then the room fell silent for four long minutes.
Mercer later noted the pause in his report. When Victor finally spoke, his voice was flat and emotionless. There was no remorse in it at all.
Without taking his eyes off the wall, he said Natalie was responsible for her own death. The detective kept writing. Victor explained that he had forbidden her to marry Andrew, and she had chosen to disobey him.
In his warped logic, if she had listened, both she and Andrew would still be alive. He claimed he had not originally intended to kill anyone. He said he only meant to take his daughter home by force and make her understand that her father knew best.
When the detective asked why a peaceful conversation required a steel tire iron, Victor paused. Then he said he had brought it only in case Andrew tried to fight him. But when the questioning turned to Natalie’s death, his tone hardened…
