another sign of confidence. They think their case is strong enough already and have no doubt the grand jury will indict based on it.
The other message is from Laurie, reporting that she and Vince will be at Charlie’s, waiting for me. I head over there, though in truth I would prefer to go home and think things through.
Laurie and Vince are sitting at our regular corner table when I arrive, but it would not take Sherlock Holmes to look at this scene and know there is something amiss. First of all, there is a full plate of french fries on the table, and Vince is paying no attention to them. I can’t overemphasize the inconceivability of such an event. Secondly, the television facing their table is tuned to the local news, while every other one in the entire bar has ESPN.
Vince sees me walking toward them and stands up, as if somehow that will get me there faster. “What happened?” he asks. “How did it go?”
I explain that Daniel volunteered nothing much to me and that I refused to let him volunteer anything to the police. “But they seem very confident of their case.”
“What is their case? What do they have?” He’s asking questions in pairs.
“I don’t know, and Daniel claims not to either. I’ll probably learn more when I meet with the DA, and in any event they’ll have to turn over everything in discovery.”
He tosses out another pair. “So this is going to trial? We can’t stop it?”
“Not unless Daniel pleads guilty.”
He shakes his head. “Impossible. Won’t happen.”
“Vince, why don’t you tell me everything that you know and I don’t?”
He sighs and then nods in resignation, as if this is something he dreads. “Daniel was married when he lived in Cleveland. Things didn’t go well for him.”
“Meaning . . . ?”
“About a year and a half ago his wife was murdered.”
The thud that echoes through the bar is the sound of my stomach hitting the floor.
“Did they catch the killer?” I ask.
“Nope. It’s still an open case.”
“Was Daniel a suspect?”
“Of course not. I mean, you know how it is, they always check the family first. Especially since she had a lot of money; her parents left her a bundle. But there was no evidence he was involved, which he wasn’t.”
“And you kept all this a secret?”
He flashes some annoyance. “What secret? He didn’t do anything wrong. Nobody kept it a secret. The guy’s wife was murdered. Is that something you’re going to go around broadcasting?”
“How was she killed?” I ask.
“She was shot.” He says this with a measure of triumph, as if the difference in causes of death completely exonerates Daniel from being involved in any of this. “And both her hands were still on the body.”
I look over at Laurie, who doesn’t seem surprised at what Vince is saying, which means that Vince told her all of this before I arrived. She and I make eye contact, but my eye-reading skills are not quite well developed enough to know what she is thinking.
“Vince,” I say, “you need to face the possibility that Daniel is guilty. There can be some civil ramifications for your newspaper, so—”
“He’s not guilty. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“You’ve met your quota. So why don’t you tell me how you can be so sure?”
I see Laurie flinch slightly; she must know what’s coming and also knows I’m not going to like it.
“I’m sure because he’s my son,” Vince says.
• • • • •
“I WAS IN THE R ESERVES , stationed in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri,” relates Vince. “Putting in my six months so I could get out of going to Vietnam. I got a weekend pass, I met Daniel’s mother, she got pregnant, end of story.”
My keen intuition is telling me that her pregnancy was in fact not the end of the story, so I probe further. “So you’ve kept in touch with Daniel all these years?” I ask.
He shakes his head with some sadness. “No. His mother never told me about him . . . we
The other message is from Laurie, reporting that she and Vince will be at Charlie’s, waiting for me. I head over there, though in truth I would prefer to go home and think things through.
Laurie and Vince are sitting at our regular corner table when I arrive, but it would not take Sherlock Holmes to look at this scene and know there is something amiss. First of all, there is a full plate of french fries on the table, and Vince is paying no attention to them. I can’t overemphasize the inconceivability of such an event. Secondly, the television facing their table is tuned to the local news, while every other one in the entire bar has ESPN.
Vince sees me walking toward them and stands up, as if somehow that will get me there faster. “What happened?” he asks. “How did it go?”
I explain that Daniel volunteered nothing much to me and that I refused to let him volunteer anything to the police. “But they seem very confident of their case.”
“What is their case? What do they have?” He’s asking questions in pairs.
“I don’t know, and Daniel claims not to either. I’ll probably learn more when I meet with the DA, and in any event they’ll have to turn over everything in discovery.”
He tosses out another pair. “So this is going to trial? We can’t stop it?”
“Not unless Daniel pleads guilty.”
He shakes his head. “Impossible. Won’t happen.”
“Vince, why don’t you tell me everything that you know and I don’t?”
He sighs and then nods in resignation, as if this is something he dreads. “Daniel was married when he lived in Cleveland. Things didn’t go well for him.”
“Meaning . . . ?”
“About a year and a half ago his wife was murdered.”
The thud that echoes through the bar is the sound of my stomach hitting the floor.
“Did they catch the killer?” I ask.
“Nope. It’s still an open case.”
“Was Daniel a suspect?”
“Of course not. I mean, you know how it is, they always check the family first. Especially since she had a lot of money; her parents left her a bundle. But there was no evidence he was involved, which he wasn’t.”
“And you kept all this a secret?”
He flashes some annoyance. “What secret? He didn’t do anything wrong. Nobody kept it a secret. The guy’s wife was murdered. Is that something you’re going to go around broadcasting?”
“How was she killed?” I ask.
“She was shot.” He says this with a measure of triumph, as if the difference in causes of death completely exonerates Daniel from being involved in any of this. “And both her hands were still on the body.”
I look over at Laurie, who doesn’t seem surprised at what Vince is saying, which means that Vince told her all of this before I arrived. She and I make eye contact, but my eye-reading skills are not quite well developed enough to know what she is thinking.
“Vince,” I say, “you need to face the possibility that Daniel is guilty. There can be some civil ramifications for your newspaper, so—”
“He’s not guilty. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“You’ve met your quota. So why don’t you tell me how you can be so sure?”
I see Laurie flinch slightly; she must know what’s coming and also knows I’m not going to like it.
“I’m sure because he’s my son,” Vince says.
• • • • •
“I WAS IN THE R ESERVES , stationed in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri,” relates Vince. “Putting in my six months so I could get out of going to Vietnam. I got a weekend pass, I met Daniel’s mother, she got pregnant, end of story.”
My keen intuition is telling me that her pregnancy was in fact not the end of the story, so I probe further. “So you’ve kept in touch with Daniel all these years?” I ask.
He shakes his head with some sadness. “No. His mother never told me about him . . . we
Similar Books
