The Marriage Act(108)
‘If you’re a journalist, I’m sorry but I’m not doing any interviews . . .’
The man looked around the room. ‘If I were here to interview you, do you think the Governor would’ve cleared the room for me?’
Roxi shook her head.
‘I represent His Majesty’s Government. We have followed your story with interest. You’re unique, aren’t you?’
‘I’m not the only woman to have made a mistake.’
‘ “A mistake”?’ he repeated. ‘Let’s call a spade a spade, shall we? You killed someone.’
‘You’re wasting your time if you’re here to make me feel any more guilty than I do already. I’ve tortured myself enough without your help.’ She pushed her chair out and prepared to leave.
‘Sit down, Roxi,’ he said. The narrowing of his eyes suggested it would be in her best interests to comply.
‘In describing you as unique, I was referring to how people on both sides of the Marriage Act are using you for their own agendas. The pros believe you’re an example of someone who’ll do anything to protect the basic principles of the Act, while their counterparts believe you’re the victim of an oppressive regime.’
Roxi couldn’t deny the level of support had taken her by surprise, particularly after admitting to the charge of manslaughter. She’d no choice. Technology had her bang to rights.
Before Roxi had listened to Owen’s recordings on Cooper’s laptop, she had turned off the wifi first, making it untraceable. What she hadn’t considered was that Cooper’s devices had been registered to analyse her online biometric behaviours. They knew all her operational habits, from the speed she used a trackpad, to how quickly she moved her mouse and navigation patterns. Hundreds of hours of insights had created a unique profile, like a digital version of a fingerprint and near impossible to duplicate. And, like millions of others, Roxi had a profile of her own online biometric behaviour. Each time she’d accessed Cooper’s laptop to play Owen’s sessions, the computer had registered it was not Cooper using it and identified Roxi from her own stored records. But, by briefly connecting to a cafe’s wifi, the device had reported the unregistered user and Roxi’s match to a cyber security team.
And when Cooper’s family had told police her laptop was missing, they hadn’t had far to look. The search team had found the device wrapped in refuse sacks and hidden in a box inside Roxi’s wardrobe. ‘I didn’t mean to kill her,’ Roxi had blurted out to the surprise of officers who appeared at her door. ‘It was an accident.’ She’d been arrested in her kitchen and charged the following day.
‘It’s like she wanted to get caught,’ she’d overheard one of the officers say later. ‘She couldn’t wait to get out of that house.’
As the news cycle was beginning to move on from Jeffrey Beech’s guilty verdict, the media was obsessed with former Influencer Roxi’s story. She’d become rejuvenated by the attention and public debate. The joy she had once gained from Vlogging and Influencing was returning.
Roxi had pleaded guilty to Cooper’s manslaughter and, in mitigation, her barrister had explained to the court how concern over her husband’s infidelity had pushed her to breaking point. ‘Mrs Sager lives for her family and fear of its disintegration pushed her into confronting the “other woman”,’ her legal counsel had said. ‘And when Mrs Cooper had refused to explain the nature of their relationship, a brief physical altercation ensued, in which Mrs Cooper lost her footing and fell.’
Roxi’s team had warned her to expect a prison sentence of around four to six years, so it came as a surprise to everyone when she was sentenced to just twenty months in a minimum-security facility. It had divided public opinion and only added to the demand for her.
‘We want to strike while the iron is hot and capitalize on your currency,’ Roxi’s prison visitor continued. ‘Following the awful, awful death of Jem Jones, there is now a place for someone else to be the spokesperson for the Sanctity of Marriage Act. And, with a general election predicted within the next few months, we would like to offer you that position.’
‘Me?’ Roxi laughed and glanced around the empty room. ‘How on earth can I be the spokesperson for anything when I’m in here?’
‘You gave up a successful career as a Vlogger soon after Mrs Cooper’s death. Why?’
‘Because I thought I needed my family more,’ she said.
‘The word “thought” suggests you no longer believe that to be the case.’
Roxi hesitated and was pricked by an image of the last time she saw Owen, Darcy and Josh together. She had spotted them in the public gallery following her sentence and moments before she was led out of the court’s dock. But her maternal urge to want to comfort them was less than her desire to show gratitude to the vocal strangers cheering her name from the gallery. She waved to them and made a heart symbol with her fingers. Once again, the interest of people she didn’t know became more important to her than her own flesh and blood. By the time her attention returned to her family, they had left.
‘You miss the attention, don’t you?’ the man continued. ‘The approval of strangers fills a hole inside you that, with the best will in the world, your family cannot.’
Roxi slowly nodded her head. It was the first time she had admitted it to anyone but herself. A cold, arrogant smile crept across her visitor’s face. In their brief time together, he made her uncomfortable yet he knew her better than her own family did.