your money on my services.”
She stopped rubbing her wet hair, gazed at him with her pale blue eyes from beneath the folds of the damp towel. “All them witnesses know what’s going to happen to Curtis,” she said. “They’d never want to live with the notion they might have made a mistake, killed an innocent man, so they’ve got themselves convinced that they’re positive it was Curtis they seen in that liquor store. They gotta be positive if they want to sleep at night.”
“Your observation on human psychology is sound,” Nudger said, “but I don’t think it will help us. The witnesses were just as certain at the trial. I took the time to read the court transcript; the jury had no choice but to find Colt guilty, and the evidence hasn’t changed. Nothing has changed, Candy Ann. . . .”
“That Randy Gantner, I think he’d just as soon see Curtis dead, knowing Curtis might do something even from prison to stop him from pestering me.”
“Gantner pestered you?” Nudger sat back and felt warm vinyl attach itself to his perspiring back through his shirt. “How could he know where you live? How could he even know you exist?”
Candy Ann lowered her eyes. “I told him, I’m afraid. It was before I hired you; I thought maybe I could talk to them witnesses myself, get them to see Curtis’ innocence, his goodness. Gantner’s the only one I seen. After him, I knew how hopeless it was for me and that I needed the help of an expert.” She looked up and smiled. “That’s when I called you, Mr. Nudger.”
“So Gantner found out where you lived.”
“I ain’t sure he knows where I live, but he came by the Right Steer a few times. He . . . made advances.”
“That sounds like something out of the nineteenth century,” Nudger said.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. What kind of advances?”
“Improper.”
“Oh, I’m sure. But was the implication that if you slept with him he might change his story about Curtis?”
“No, he never came right out and said that.” She rubbed her nose vertically with the palm of her hand, as a child might, and looked pensive. “Tell you the truth, Mr. Nudger, though I shouldn’t say it—if it would really save Curtis’ life, I’d even sleep with that Gantner. Would in a minute.”
“I don’t think it would make much difference,” Nudger said. “And I don’t think Curtis would approve.”
“You’re probably right about both those things.”
Nudger shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, but the evidence looks exactly the same as it did at the time of the trial.”
Candy Ann drew her bare feet up off the floor and hugged her knees to her chest with both arms as if she were crazy about her legs. It was almost a gesture of unconscious, undeveloped sexuality, the sort of thing you might see in a ten-year-old. Her little-girl posture matched her little-girl faith in her lover’s innocence. She believed the white knight must arrive at any moment and snatch handsome Curtis Colt from the electrical jaws of death. She believed hard, this child-woman. Nudger could almost hear his armor clank when he walked.
She wanted him to believe just as hard. “I see you need to be convinced of Curtis’ innocence,” she said wistfully. There was no doubt he’d forced her into some kind of a corner with his lack of faith and his disheartening report of unshakable witnesses. “If you come by here at midnight, Mr. Nudger, I’ll convince you.”
“Can’t we make it earlier?” Nudger said. “My old car turns into a pumpkin at midnight.”
She smiled slowly, her slightly protruding teeth separating her lips. “I seen cars was lemons, Mr. Nudger, but never pumpkins.”
“How do you intend to prove Colt’s innocence?”
“I can’t say. You’ll understand why later tonight.”
“But why do we have to wait until midnight?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
Nudger looked at the waiflike creature curled in the corner of the sofa. He felt as if they were playing a childhood
She stopped rubbing her wet hair, gazed at him with her pale blue eyes from beneath the folds of the damp towel. “All them witnesses know what’s going to happen to Curtis,” she said. “They’d never want to live with the notion they might have made a mistake, killed an innocent man, so they’ve got themselves convinced that they’re positive it was Curtis they seen in that liquor store. They gotta be positive if they want to sleep at night.”
“Your observation on human psychology is sound,” Nudger said, “but I don’t think it will help us. The witnesses were just as certain at the trial. I took the time to read the court transcript; the jury had no choice but to find Colt guilty, and the evidence hasn’t changed. Nothing has changed, Candy Ann. . . .”
“That Randy Gantner, I think he’d just as soon see Curtis dead, knowing Curtis might do something even from prison to stop him from pestering me.”
“Gantner pestered you?” Nudger sat back and felt warm vinyl attach itself to his perspiring back through his shirt. “How could he know where you live? How could he even know you exist?”
Candy Ann lowered her eyes. “I told him, I’m afraid. It was before I hired you; I thought maybe I could talk to them witnesses myself, get them to see Curtis’ innocence, his goodness. Gantner’s the only one I seen. After him, I knew how hopeless it was for me and that I needed the help of an expert.” She looked up and smiled. “That’s when I called you, Mr. Nudger.”
“So Gantner found out where you lived.”
“I ain’t sure he knows where I live, but he came by the Right Steer a few times. He . . . made advances.”
“That sounds like something out of the nineteenth century,” Nudger said.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. What kind of advances?”
“Improper.”
“Oh, I’m sure. But was the implication that if you slept with him he might change his story about Curtis?”
“No, he never came right out and said that.” She rubbed her nose vertically with the palm of her hand, as a child might, and looked pensive. “Tell you the truth, Mr. Nudger, though I shouldn’t say it—if it would really save Curtis’ life, I’d even sleep with that Gantner. Would in a minute.”
“I don’t think it would make much difference,” Nudger said. “And I don’t think Curtis would approve.”
“You’re probably right about both those things.”
Nudger shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, but the evidence looks exactly the same as it did at the time of the trial.”
Candy Ann drew her bare feet up off the floor and hugged her knees to her chest with both arms as if she were crazy about her legs. It was almost a gesture of unconscious, undeveloped sexuality, the sort of thing you might see in a ten-year-old. Her little-girl posture matched her little-girl faith in her lover’s innocence. She believed the white knight must arrive at any moment and snatch handsome Curtis Colt from the electrical jaws of death. She believed hard, this child-woman. Nudger could almost hear his armor clank when he walked.
She wanted him to believe just as hard. “I see you need to be convinced of Curtis’ innocence,” she said wistfully. There was no doubt he’d forced her into some kind of a corner with his lack of faith and his disheartening report of unshakable witnesses. “If you come by here at midnight, Mr. Nudger, I’ll convince you.”
“Can’t we make it earlier?” Nudger said. “My old car turns into a pumpkin at midnight.”
She smiled slowly, her slightly protruding teeth separating her lips. “I seen cars was lemons, Mr. Nudger, but never pumpkins.”
“How do you intend to prove Colt’s innocence?”
“I can’t say. You’ll understand why later tonight.”
“But why do we have to wait until midnight?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
Nudger looked at the waiflike creature curled in the corner of the sofa. He felt as if they were playing a childhood
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