David’s statement lasted three hours.
It did not save him.
He knew that before he began.
He admitted to pushing Lexa. He admitted to kicking her over the rail. He admitted saying, “This is the price you pay.” He admitted he believed she had caused Harbor Sable. He admitted Evan Rill had approached him months earlier with what he claimed were hidden logs proving Lexa’s delay. He admitted Rill told him Lexa was being protected because exposing her would embarrass the Navy. He admitted he had watched her on the Meridian, waiting for a moment when her “mask would slip.”
But the most important part was what he admitted next.
The grenade.
David said Rill told him Lexa had smuggled a grenade aboard as part of a desperate attempt to destroy evidence that would expose her. Rill said if David forced a confrontation, Lexa would reveal herself. David claimed he did not plant it personally. He claimed he did not know when it was placed in her vest. But he admitted he knew it would be there before he pushed her.
Olsen asked, “And you pushed her anyway?”
David closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
David’s face folded around the answer.
“Because I wanted everyone to see what I saw.”
“What did you see?”
“A murderer.”
Olsen waited.
David opened his eyes.
“And I was wrong.”
That admission did not absolve him. It fixed the record.
David also gave the name of the officer who introduced him to Rill: retired Captain Roland Mace. Mace had met David at a memorial foundation event honoring Harbor Sable victims. He had spoken gently, offered sympathy, then slowly fed him doubt. He told David the official review had been softened. He said Lexa’s mistake had been buried to preserve morale. He said he could not prove it publicly, but David deserved to know.
That was how revenge had been cultivated.
Not in one conversation.
Over months.
By the time David boarded the Meridian, he did not need orders. He carried the lie like a mission.
Olsen issued the warrant request for Mace before David’s statement ended.
But Mace had already moved.
His home was empty. His phone was off. His last known location was a private marina south of Norfolk, registered under a shell company tied to Northstar Maritime Systems. Security cameras showed him arriving with a duffel bag thirty minutes after Rill’s partial burst left the Meridian.
Mace knew the Sable thread had surfaced.
He knew Lexa survived.
He knew David had failed.
And he was heading for the water.
The same place the truth had been hidden the first time.