Struce shook his head, as if he’d been arguing with himself and gotten sick of it.
“All right, I guess I’ll just have to lay it all out there.”
“Please do,” Trembley advised.
“First of all, I was in a state yesterday. I had taken anxiety medication and wasn’t at the top of my game. I would hope that you’d excuse that under the circumstances. Furthermore, unless you had reason to think Corinne’s proclivities played a role in her death, I’m not sure why I would volunteer such personal information. It feels both ungentlemanly and unnecessary.”
“Unfortunately,” Jessie countered, “you’re not in a position to make those kinds of determinations, Mr. Struce. What we need from you is the truth, unvarnished and without shading. So please, honest answers from here on in, all right?’
“Of course, understood.”
“You knew your wife was having affairs?” she asked.
“We had an understanding,” he answered.
“What does that mean?”
“You have to understand, Cory and I had a connection. We made each other laugh. We supported each other. She felt safe and unjudged with me. I admittedly loved being at the side of someone so glamorous and magnetic. But I wouldn’t describe our marriage as particularly sexually charged. We both knew that going in and accepted that those needs might be better met by others. So we came to an accommodation.”
“I see,” Jessie said before radically shifting gears to keep him off balance. “What did you know about the list?”
“What list?” Struce asked, perplexed.
“The Bad Boys list.”
“What is that?” he asked. “A list of especially sexy actors? Or ones who were genuinely unpleasant to work with?”
“You’ve really never heard of a list like that?” Trembley asked, skeptical. “Corinne never mentioned it?”
Struce shook his head.
“If it was related to the drudgery of her work, she left me out of it. She might complain about a demanding director or a sloppy makeup girl. But we never talked business and I don’t recall ever hearing her mention a list other than ‘best dressed.’”
Trembley looked at Jessie with an expression that suggested he wasn’t sure how much further to press the issue. She shook her head to let him know to let it go for now. There was a more pressing concern.
“Mr. Struce,” she said. “You told us that you were home all night on Sunday, that you waited up before eventually falling asleep around one a.m., correct?”
“That’s right,” he said, his voice betraying his lie even if Jessie hadn’t already been aware of it.
“That’s odd, because the security system you gave us the login info for, the one you set up, had a glitch that concerned some of our tech and research folks. So they followed up and discovered that the video had been manipulated. That’s something I’d imagine would be hard for the average person but maybe not for someone who worked in CGI.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Jessie nodded as if his response was convincing.
“Do you also have no idea why your GPS data shows that you drove to an address in Hollywood less than two miles from Sovereign Studios and that you were in that area during the window of Corinne’s death?”
Struce didn’t respond. All the color drained from his face, which went slack. After swallowing hard multiple times, he finally replied.
“It’s not what you think,” he said softly.
“Please tell us what it is then,” Jessie asked.
“I…I was visiting a friend. I wasn’t forthcoming because I knew how it would look.”
“How would it look, Mr. Struce?” she asked.
“Like I was being unfaithful to my wife on the night that she was murdered.”
“Do you think that would be worse than the impression you’ve left us with?” she asked.
“What impression?”
“That you lied about your whereabouts and altered the surveillance video to cover your tracks while you were murdering your wife.”
“I would never hurt Cory!” Struce said, the color finally returning to his face.
“But you lied to us, sir,” Trembley noted calmly. “And you don’t have an alibi for that evening. This doesn’t look great for you. What would you have us do?”
Willem Struce stared at them, openmouthed, unspeaking. Trembley shrugged, stood up, and removed his handcuffs.
“I’m afraid that in the absence of compelling evidence to the contrary, we’re going to have to arrest you for the murder of Corinne Weatherly. Please stand and put your hands in front of you.”
Struce slowly got to his feet. He looked shell-shocked. Trembley was just cuffing him when they heard a voice shout from across the room.