«Doctor, David drank hot chocolate that my daughter had prepared. The hot chocolate had a strange smell, like bitter almonds.»
«Bitter almonds?» The doctor quickly wrote something down. «That is a classic indicator of cyanide poisoning.»
Monica looked at me with an expression of absolute betrayal. «Ma’am, how can you suggest that I…»
«I’m not suggesting anything, Monica. I’m just answering the doctor’s questions honestly.»
«But ma’am, you were going to drink that hot chocolate too. Why would I do something that would hurt me too?»
It was a clever question, and for a moment I doubted my own suspicions. But then I remembered how she had insisted that I drink mine immediately, while she had left hers cooling without tasting it.
«Ladies,» the doctor intervened, «I am going to have to report this case to the authorities. Cyanide poisoning always requires a police investigation.»
«Police investigation?» Monica visibly paled. «Why? It must have been a terrible accident.»
«Mrs Miller, cyanide does not accidentally appear in homemade hot chocolate. Someone put it there deliberately.»
After the doctor left, Monica and I were left alone in the waiting room. For the first time in my life, my daughter scared me.
«Mom,» she said in a soft voice, but with cold eyes. «I hope you are not thinking of telling the police that I tried to poison David.»
«Monica, did you poison David?»
«Of course not. How can you even ask me that?»
«Because the hot chocolate smelled like cyanide, and you were the one who prepared it.»
«Mom, maybe the cyanide was in the ingredients. Maybe someone else put something in our kitchen. There are many explanations.»
«Like what?»
«Like someone wanting to hurt our family. Like someone breaking into the house and contaminating our food. Like David having enemies we didn’t know about.»
It was the same technique she had used for 30 years. When faced with evidence of wrongdoing, she would create alternative theories, so elaborate, that they made me doubt what I had seen with my own eyes.
«Monica, why did you insist so much that I drink my hot chocolate immediately?»
«Because it was hot and tasted better that way.»
«And why didn’t you drink yours?»
«Because it was too hot for me. I always let it cool down before drinking it.»
«And why did you prepare three mugs when David never drinks hot chocolate in the afternoon?»
For the first time, Monica did not have an immediate answer. She remained silent for long seconds, and I could see her mind furiously working to create an explanation. «I thought maybe this time he would want to try it. I was trying to be hospitable.»
At that moment, the police arrived. Two detectives, an older woman named Detective Clark, and a young man named Detective Johnson.
«Mrs Miller?» Detective Clark asked.
«Yes, that’s me,» Monica replied immediately.
«We need to ask you some questions about what happened this afternoon.»
«Of course, I’ll do everything I can to help.»
«Did you prepare the drink your husband consumed before collapsing?»
«Yes, I made hot chocolate for my mother, for David, and for myself.»
«Where did you get the ingredients?»
«From the local supermarket. Regular chocolate powder, milk, sugar.»
«When did you buy those ingredients?»
«This morning.»
«Did anyone else have access to those ingredients between the time you bought them and when you prepared the hot chocolate?»
«No, they were in my kitchen the whole time.»
«Did anyone else enter your house today?»
«No, it was just Mom, David, and me.»
Detective Johnson addressed me. «Ma’am, did you drink the hot chocolate too?»
«No, I smelled something strange and decided not to drink it.»
«Can you describe that smell?»
«It smelled like bitter almonds.»
The detectives looked at each other with meaningful expressions. «And what happened to your hot chocolate after you decided not to drink it?»
I looked at Monica, who was watching me with an intensity that scared me. «I accidentally switched it with David’s.»
«Accidentally?»
«Yes,» I lied, instinctively protecting my daughter despite my suspicions. «Both mugs were on the table, and I got them confused.»
Monica smiled at me gratefully, but her eyes were still ice cold.
That night, after the detectives finished their initial questions and David was moved to intensive care, Monica insisted that I stay at her house. «Mom, I’m too scared to be alone. What if whoever poisoned David comes back?»
It was the first time in years that Monica had invited me to stay at her house. Usually our visits were brief and always in public places or at my house. I agreed, but not for the reasons she thought.
The house Monica shared with David was impressive. Three storeys, a perfectly maintained lawn, expensive decor she had paid for with the inheritances from her two previous husbands.
Monica settled me in the second floor guest room and went to rest in her master bedroom. I waited until I heard her deep, regular breathing. Then I began my own investigation.
I started in the kitchen, examining every ingredient that had been used for the hot chocolate. The chocolate powder seemed normal, the milk was fresh, the sugar was common sugar. But in the back of the pantry, behind a row of rarely used spices, I found a small unlabelled jar filled with a white crystalline powder.
I smelled it carefully. Bitter almonds. Cyanide.
I put the jar in my bag and continued searching. In the kitchen utensil drawer, hidden under cleaning rags, I found a small syringe of the type diabetics use for insulin.
In David’s study, I checked his financial documents. David was an accountant, so he kept meticulous records of everything. What I found horrified me.
For the last six months, he had been withdrawing large amounts of money from his investment accounts. Thousands of dollars every week, always in cash.
On his personal computer, I found a document that chilled my blood. It was a letter addressed to his brother in Chicago, dated one week earlier.
Dear Mark,
If anything happens to me, I want you to know it wasn’t an accident. Monica is slowly poisoning me. I’ve been feeling strange symptoms for months. Nausea. Weakness. Mental confusion.
At first I thought it was work stress, but I’ve started noticing that I always feel worse after the meals she prepares. I’ve been pretending to eat and then throwing the food away when she’s not looking. I’ve also been taking money out of our accounts because I think she’s planning something big.
I’m afraid to confront her directly because she threatened to hurt her mother if I tried to leave her. Monica is not who she seems to be. I’ve found things in this house that would horrify you. If I die suddenly, please investigate. Don’t let her get away with it again.
Again?
I went up to the third floor, which Monica had converted into her personal study, and where she kept her important documents. The door was locked, but I found the key hidden above the doorframe. What I discovered in that room completely changed my understanding of who my daughter really was.
Boxes and boxes of meticulously organised documents. Death certificates for her two previous husbands. Life insurance documents where she was the sole beneficiary. Correspondence with lawyers about inheritances.
And most disturbing: detailed diaries, documenting exactly how she had murdered both men.
First dose of arsenic in Robert’s morning coffee. Symptoms, mild nausea attributed to stomach flu.
Increased the dose. Robert vomited after breakfast. Suggested he see a doctor, but told him it was probably just work stress.
Robert is losing weight and energy. Doctors can’t find anything specific. I’m giving him vitamins that are mixed with more arsenic.
Robert died this morning. Death certificate says natural causes related to kidney failure. Inheritance, $450,000.
The diaries continued with similar details about the death of her second husband, Frank, who had died of a heart attack two years after being poisoned with digitalis, a heart medication that in high doses causes cardiac arrest.
But what horrified me most was finding a folder labelled, «Mom, Hope, Final Plan.» Inside were copies of my will, where Monica was my sole heir, documents from my bank accounts and investments. How had she gotten that information?
A life insurance policy for $2 million that I didn’t remember signing. A detailed plan to gradually poison me over several months. And a note that said:
Accelerate plan. Mom is starting to suspect. Lethal dose of cyanide in hot chocolate. Blame David if necessary.
My own daughter had been planning to murder me for months.
But there was more. A box marked «pre-adoption» contained documents that completely shattered me.
Monica had not lost her parents in an accidental fire. She had murdered them when she was five years old, using matches to set the house on fire while they slept. The social workers had fabricated the trauma story to make it easier for her to find an adoptive family.
For 30 years, I had been raising and protecting a serial killer.
I heard footsteps on the stairs. I quickly put the most important documents in my bag and ran to my room, arriving just in time to pretend I was sleeping when Monica opened my door.
«Mom, are you okay? I heard noises.»
«I just went to the bathroom, sweetie. Going back to sleep.»
«Rest well, Mom. We’ll go see David early tomorrow.»
After she left, I stayed awake the rest of the night, planning exactly how I was going to ensure Monica paid for all her crimes.
The next day, while Monica was showering, I called Detective Clark from the backyard of the house. «Detective, I need to see you urgently. I have found important evidence about David’s poisoning.»
«What kind of evidence?»
«The poison used to poison David. Documents proving my daughter has killed before. And evidence that she planned to kill me too.»
There was a long silence. «Mrs. Miller, are you sure about what you are telling me?»
«Completely sure. Detective, my daughter is a serial killer.»
«Can you bring that evidence to the station?»
«Yes, but I need to do it without her knowing. Can you send a patrol car so it looks like a routine follow-up visit?»
«Of course. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.»
When Monica came down for breakfast, I had already hidden all the important documents in my car. «Mom, how did you sleep?»
«Well, considering the circumstances… I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday. I think we should hire a private investigator to look into who poisoned David.»
«Why a private investigator? The police are investigating.»
«Because the police can take months. I want to find the culprit now.»
«Monica, do you have any theories about who might have done this?»
«Well,» she said as she spread jam on her toast with calculated movements, «David has been very stressed about work lately. Maybe someone from his office who is jealous of his success. Or maybe some dissatisfied client.»
«Exactly. Or maybe…» She paused and looked at me with a thoughtful expression. «Maybe someone who knows about your money and wanted to hurt you by using David.»
«What do you mean?»
«Mom, everyone knows you’re wealthy. Your house, your investments, your inheritance from Dad Robert. Maybe someone thought that if something happened to you, David and I would inherit everything. And then they could blackmail or hurt us to get the money.»
The way she was planting seeds of alternative explanations was brilliant. But they didn’t work on me anymore.
«Monica, do you know how much money I have?»
«Not exactly, but I know it’s considerable.»
«How do you know that?»
«Because you’ve worked as an accountant for 40 years. Because Dad Robert left you well-provided for. And because you’ve always been very careful with money.»
«Have you ever seen my bank statements?»
«Of course not. I’m not the type of person who spies on her mother’s finances.»
But I had found copies of all my financial documents in her study the night before.
The doorbell rang. It was Detective Clark with two uniformed officers. «Good morning, ladies. We just came to ask some follow-up questions.»
«Of course,» Monica said immediately. «Is there anything new about David?»
«Your husband is stable, but still critical. We have definitely confirmed that he was poisoned with cyanide. Do you have any idea how that could have happened?»
«We are investigating several possibilities, Mrs Miller,» the detective told me. «Could we speak with you privately for a few minutes?»
«Of course.» We went out to the yard, where I discreetly handed her the bag with the evidence.
«Detective, everything is in there. The jar of cyanide I found in her kitchen, the diaries where she documents how she murdered her two previous husbands, and the plans she had to murder me.»
Detective Clark quickly examined some of the documents. Her expression progressively hardened. «Mrs Miller, this is evidence of multiple homicides. Why didn’t you report these previous deaths?»
«Because I didn’t know they were murders until last night. For 30 years, I thought they were natural deaths.»
«And are you sure these documents are authentic?»
«Detective, I recognize my daughter’s handwriting. These diaries are written in her own hand.»
«We are going to need you to come with us to give a formal statement, and we are going to arrest your daughter immediately.»
«Can I ask you a favor?»
«What?»
«Can you wait until I leave? I don’t want to be present when you arrest her.»
«Why?»
«Because despite everything she has done, she is my daughter. And for 30 years, I loved her with all my heart. I don’t want my last memories of her to be in handcuffs and being taken to jail.»
Detective Clark nodded with understanding. «Go now. We’ll take care of the rest.»
I went back into the house where Monica was washing dishes, softly whistling as if it were a normal day. «Monica, I’m going home. I need some things, and I want to rest in my own bed.»
«Are you sure, Mom? I’d rather you stay here where I can take care of you.»
«I’m sure.»
I hugged her one last time, feeling the strange sensation of embracing a stranger who had my daughter’s face. «I love you, Monica.»
«I love you too, Mom.»
But we both knew it was a lie.
Three days later, I received a call from the hospital. David had woken up and was urgently asking to see me.
When I arrived at his room, he was pale and weak, but his eyes were alert and filled with an intensity I hadn’t seen before.
«Hope,» he said in a hoarse voice. «Thank you for coming.»
«How do you feel?»
«Like I’ve been to hell, but alive, thanks to you.»
«Thanks to me?»
«I know you switched the mugs. Monica told me when she thought I was unconscious.»
My blood froze. «What else did she say?»
«That she had prepared the hot chocolate especially for you. That she had been planning to poison you for months, but that you had ruined everything by switching the mugs.»
«David, since when did you know Monica was trying to poison you?»
«For about six months. I started feeling sick after meals, but only after the meals she prepared. At first I thought it was paranoia, then I started pretending to eat and then secretly throwing the food away.»
«Why didn’t you leave her? Why didn’t you go to the police?»
David looked down, ashamed. «Because she threatened me with you.»
«With me?»
«If I tried to leave her, or if I reported anything to the authorities, she was going to kill you. She said she had ways to poison you that would look like natural death, and that no one would suspect because you’re an older woman.»
«And you believed her?»
«Hope, I found Monica’s diaries about a year ago. I know what she did to her other husbands. I know she’s a killer.»
«Why didn’t you tell me?»
«How do you tell a mother that her daughter is a monster? You love her so much. You have sacrificed so much for her. I thought if I could withstand the gradual poisoning, maybe we would eventually find a way to escape together.»
«David, did you know she planned to kill me?»
«I suspected. Lately, she had been asking questions about your will, about your finances, about whether you had any life insurance.»
«Did she tell you why she wanted to kill me? Money?»
«Monica thinks you’re a millionaire.»
«And am I?»
David looked at me with surprise. «You don’t know? I know I have some savings and investments, but I’ve never calculated the exact total.»
«Hope, you have over $10 million in various accounts and investments.»
The figure took my breath away. «How do you know that?»
«Because Monica asked me to review your finances as a ‘family favour.’ I thought it was to help you with financial planning, but now I realise she was calculating how much money she would inherit when you died.»
«David, there’s something you need to know. Monica has already been arrested.»
His expression changed to pure relief. «Really?»
«The police found evidence that she murdered her two previous husbands, and evidence that she planned to kill me. She’s in jail, without bail.»
