Final Appeal (28 page)

 

 

“I still can't believe you were that little nun. Why didn't I recognize you?”

“How could you? We wore full habits, and I always kept my eyes averted. It was the way we were taught.”

Michael gave her a hug. “I'm certainly glad you're not a nun anymore. And I'm grateful that you're on my side this time. Why do you believe me, Toni? All the evidence points straight to me. For all I know, I might really be the one who's killing off the jurors. I told you what the psychiatrist said about my sleepwalking.”

“You're not killing anybody, Mike. You couldn't be, not even in your sleep.”

“Okay. If I'm not doing it, then somebody's setting me up. We've got to figure out who it is, and then we can call Harry and ask for his help.”

Toni shook her head. “It won't work, Mike. Harry's a friend, but not even a friend would believe a crazy story like this. He'd have to do his duty and lock you up again. And even if your brother wins your appeal, they'll just try to convict you for the murders of the jurors. We've got to find some sort of evidence that the police will believe.”

“There's the footage the professor found. That'll help. Thank God. There's a guard out there, Toni. If I thought that you re in any . . . oh, my God!”

“What is it?”

“I just remembered. Stan told me he warned the last two jurors personally.”

Toni raised her eyebrows. “Then your brother lied to you, Mike. He didn't warn me. And I'm willing to bet there's no guard, either.”

“But why would he lie? Is there any way you could use your computer to find out about my appeal, Toni? It's important.”

“Sure. Come with me.”

It seemed to take hours to access the court calendar. Toni scrolled through the cases on the docket, but they couldn't find anything scheduled for Michael Hart's appeal. Stan had lied about that, too.

Toni turned to him with a frown. “Why did he lie, Mike? What reason could he have?”

“He must have wanted me to sit tight while the killer finished off the jurors. That's the only conclusion I can come up with. Toni, I think we should call Harry. Even if I get sent back to Oakdale, it'll be worth it if I'm sure you're safe.”

Toni dialed Harry's number at the precinct. “Captain Evans, please. This is Toni Novak.”

She frowned down at the phone. “He's not? When do you expect him back? I see. No, there's no message. Just tell him that I'll call back.”

“Harry's not there?”

Toni shook her head. “They expect him back late, but they're not sure when.”

“Let's go, Toni. I'll turn myself in to whoever's there, and we'll get some protection for you. You're a sitting duck in this apartment.”

“No, Mike. I won't let you turn yourself into anyone but Harry. Without Harry, no one would take our story seriously. They'd think we were both insane.”

“Maybe we are.” Michael frowned. “I just wish I had that footage, if there ever was any.”

“What do you mean?”

Michael sighed. “Maybe Stan lied about that, too.”

“I don't think so.” Toni looked thoughtful. “It wouldn't serve any purpose for him to do that.”

“You're right. If that footage does exist and I had it, I could prove to the police that I was innocent ten years ago. If I could do that, they might just believe me now.”

“Do you think the footage would be in your brother's office?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. If Stan had it in the first place, he's probably destroyed it by now. He never wanted to clear me, Toni. And now he wants me to take the blame for all these other murders. He's protecting the real killer but I can't figure out why.”

“Forget that for now. Do you know who gave Stan the footage? Maybe that person kept a copy.”

“It was Professor Zimmer. Stan mentioned it on the phone this afternoon. I don't think he was lying. It just sort of slipped out.”

“Let's go, Mike. I think the professor kept a copy. I'm willing to bet on that.”

“How can you be that sure?”

“Professor Zimmer made copies of everything. That was one thing I noticed about him during your trial. He even made copies of the daily notes he took during the trial. I asked him why he copied everything and he explained that he wanted a record of everything in case the original got lost. That copy will be in his office on the campus, Mike. That's something else I'm sure about.”

“Why are you sure about that?”

“Because Harry told me that the killer broke in there, looking for something. It must have been the footage.”

“What if he found it?”

“Don't bother me with details. We've got to assume it's still there and find it.” Toni tossed Mike her keys and grabbed a revolver from the drawer in the kitchen. “You drive. I'll ride shotgun. I always hated this ugly thing, but now I'm glad that Harry taught me how to use it.”

Stan watched them pull into the parking lot and get out of the car. Had they solved the puzzle? Yes, they were walking across the commons, past the cathedral toward Professor Zimmer's office building. They had no trouble getting inside. Once he'd realized where they were going, he'd driven ahead to unlock the door. If they found what they were looking for, that was wonderful. But even if they didn't, he'd put an end to this whole case when they came back to the car.

At first the police would think that there'd been two more violent muggings on campus. And then they'd find the suicide note and identify the bodies. It wouldn't take any clever detective work to tie it all together. Michael Hart had escaped from the hospital to commit his insane revenge. Tonight he'd killed the last juror, and then he'd turned the gun on himself. It would be a horrible end to a tormented life. All the pieces fit perfectly. It was brilliantly planned. No one would ever suspect him.

He frowned, thinking about the tasks he had left to accomplish. He could kill her with no problem. But him? That would be much more difficult. He'd just have to do it the way he'd intended. There was no escape, and he'd make it quick and painless. It was kinder that way. And it was much more humane than forcing him to live out the rest of his life in a mental institution.

It would have been easier if he'd hated him, or resented him, or even disliked him. But he didn't. It was all circumstance, nothing but unfortunate circumstance. He hadn't started out to set him up ten years ago, but that's what had happened in the course of events, and now he was locked into a situation he'd never anticipated. He was trapped by fate, and he was as much a victim as all the others.

Would they find the footage? It was possible, although he'd searched very thoroughly. He could end it all right there in the professor's office, but it would be more prudent to wait and see. If they found it, things could be tied up much more neatly. Of course, no one would realize the significance of the footage if they stumbled across it later, but it would give him a great deal of satisfaction to know that there were no loose ends.

He got out of his car. No need to take the gun. He'd leave it under the seat until it was time. He doubted the security guard would spot him, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

The night was lovely. Calm. Cool. Very peaceful. The campus was deserted. It was Sunday night, and not even the library was open on the Sabbath. It was pleasant to walk across the beautiful campus and past the towering spires of the cathedral. He was so busy admiring the glint of moonlight on the polished stone that he didn't notice the dark, silent shadow that slipped into his car.

 

 

“Mike!” Toni pulled the DVD out of the drawer. “Let's have alight. Quickly.”

Michael aimed his penlight at the label, and Toni swore softly. “Oh, no! I thought I had it for a minute, but it's only a segment of that PBS series on the first amendment. It's got the library seal right on it. He must have used it in his class.”

“Hold on, Toni. Didn't you tell me that Professor Zimmer was the most organized man you'd ever met?”

“That's true, Mike.”

“There's the rest of that series right over there on his bookshelf. With covers. Was he the type of man who'd let a loose DVD kick around in his desk drawer without a protective cover?”

“No. Check it out, Mike. This is segment three.”

Michael flashed the light on the bookshelf. “One and two are here. And so are four through six. Did you say that disk had the library name on it?”

“That's right. It says Property of Gateway University Library, Audiovisual Department. “

“Did Harry say anyone had broken into the library?”

“No.”

“Okay, then the footage is still there. It's inside the cover for segment three. Let's go!”

They were running across campus toward the library, two fleeting shadows in the dark night. Stan just hoped the security guard wouldn't spot them. And now they were standing by the side door, where the shadows were deepest. After a few moments, the door opened and then shut again quickly. Gateway University had terrible security, but they probably weren't too concerned about their students breaking into the library. Why should they be? The last thing a student at this fourth-rate college would want to steal was a book. Would they think to lock the door behind them? Of course. But it would be easy to get in with Professor Zimmer's keys. He'd kept them all, just in case.

 

 

He grabbed the gun and stuffed it in his pocket. It was time. Just as soon as they'd handed over the footage, he'd kill them. Two more deaths and he'd be finished.

 

 

“This is it!” Michael let out a long sigh. “Look at the label, Toni. It's the original from KLAX.”

“Let's get it to the police right away, Mike. I'm not the type to have premonitions, but I've got this terrible—”

“And you're right, Sister. Turn around very slowly. Both of you. Mikey, hand me that footage.”

Michael turned to face his brother. “Stan! What are you doing here?”

Stan stood there in the light from the dim bulbs that were left on at night. He was holding a gun, and there was a sad but determined expression on his face. “Sorry, Mikey. Give it to me. I need it.”

“Give it to him, Mike.” Toni's voice was shaking. “Do exactly what he says.”

“That's good advice, Sister. Come on, Mikey. Delaying now won't solve anything.”

Michael moved forward slowly and held out the jacket with the footage inside. “Why are you doing this, Stan? I don't understand.”

“Oh Mikey.” Stan shook his head. “Can't you see that I don't have any choice? She had to die, you know. There was no other way.”

“Who?”

“Carole.” Stan sighed. “She fell in love with the wrong man, Mikey. And when she realized her mistake, it was too late. She tried to make me think it was my baby, but I knew that was impossible. You're better off without her, don't you see? She cheated. She was nothing but a whore at heart.”

“Carole told you that she was pregnant with your baby?” Michael asked. He knew that he had to keep Stan talking. If they were lucky, Stan would get caught up in his own rhetoric and relax his guard. Then they might have an opportunity to grab the gun, or knock him down, or take some action to try to save their lives.

“She swore it was my baby. She said she wasn't sleeping with you anymore, but I knew that couldn't be true. I'm sterile, Mikey. My doctor said I'd never be able to be a father.”

“I'm sorry, Stan.”

“So am I, Mikey. But I'm even sorrier that Carole lied to me. Now you can understand why I had to kill her, can't you? I couldn't let her get away with—” Stan whirled and aimed his gun at Toni “Drop it, Sister. Now!”

Toni wavered, and for a moment Michael thought she was going to raise the gun and shoot to save him. “Drop it, Toni! Don't be a fool!”

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Toni let the gun clatter to the floor. The noise was loud in the huge, silent room. Then she looked at him expectantly, waiting for a cue. What could he do? The only thing he could think of was to keep Stan talking. Questioning might work. Stan loved to explain things.

“Raise your hands, Sister.” Stan gestured with the gun. “That's it. A little more. And now I think it's—-”

“I don't understand why you had to kill all the jurors, Stan.” Michael interrupted. “Wasn't it enough to just kill Professor Zimmer?”

“That's not important, Mikey. There's no need for you to—”

This time Toni interrupted. She'd caught his unspoken prompt. “But it's important to us, Stan. Mike said you always had a good reason for everything you did. I know it really bothers him that we couldn't figure it out.”

“Is that true, Mikey? Do you really want to know?”

“Yes, I do.” Toni had asked just the right question and in exactly the right way. “It was just too complicated for us, Stan. Can you explain it?”

“It is rather complicated, isn't it?” Stan started to smile. “It's like this, Mikey. Professor Zimmer told me that he'd shown the footage to another juror.”

There was a library cart only a foot or so away. Michael inched a little closer to it. It was the rolling type, and it was filled with heavy books. If Toni could only keep Stan talking, maybe he could reach it.

Toni came through, right on cue. “And he wouldn't tell you which juror?”

“That's exactly right. I tried every trick in the book, but I couldn't get it out of him.”

“Well, it wasn't me. I didn't know anything about the footage until tonight. Did you try to figure out which juror it was?”

Stan was facing Toni when Michael's foot touched the cart. Now all he had to do was locate the lock on the wheel and release it. As he felt around with his toe, Stan laughed.

“Of course I didn't try to figure out who the juror was. That would have been wasted effort. I knew if I killed them all, I'd be safe. I suppose you would have tried to locate the juror. Right, Sister?”

Toni sighed. “I'm afraid that's exactly what I would have done. But I can see your way is much more efficient. Did you expect the police to blame Mike?”

“Of course. I read the psychiatrist's report about his dreams and the sleepwalking. It fit right in. Do you understand now?”

Michael's toe inched down. The brake released with an audible click, but Toni was talking again and Stan didn't hear.

“Yes, I see. Or at least I'm beginning to see. The police would look at the psychiatrist's report, and assume that Mike killed the jurors in a fit of revenge. Do I have that right?”

“Precisely. And now, that's enough talking.”

“Just one more question, please, one that really puzzles me. If you kill Mike, won't the police look for his murderer?”

That's the clever part.” Stan smiled. “Mikey's going to commit suicide right after he kills you.”

“I don't understand that at all.” Toni shook her head. “How can you make Mike's murder look like a suicide when it's not?”

Michael managed to get one hand on the cart. Just another inch closer, and he could—”

“That's the easiest part,” Stan went on with his answer. “You see, Sister, I typed a note on that typewriter I put in Mickey's apartment. And once the police find that, they won't bother to—”

It was now, or never. Michael pushed with all his strength and the cart took off like a rocket. Stan whirled at the sudden motion, and Michael yelled for Toni to run. She didn't waste any time ducking behind the stacks, and then the room plunged into darkness. She'd hit the light switch. Good girl! Now if she only had the presence of mind to sneak out the back way and go for help.

It took a moment for Michael's eyes to adjust to the sudden blackness. There was a dim light coming in through the windows, but all he could make out was the shape of the hulking bookcases. He had the advantage now. Stan had to find them to kill them. All he had to do was stay very still and pray that Toni had escaped.

Someone was moving. He could hear a rustle. The noise seemed to be coming closer, but it was difficult to tell. Was it Toni? Or Stan?

Then his eyes adjusted. A figure was huddled, crawling slowly toward the bookcase. Toni. She was going back for the gun.

Another rustle. The sounds seemed to come from all around him. But then he saw it—a shape moving fast, heading for the same bookcase. It was Stan. He'd spotted Toni, but he wouldn't dare shoot wildly. The security guard might hear, and he had to make it count.

Suddenly Michael had a flash of insight. Stan couldn't get both of them at once, and he had to kill Toni. She was the last juror. Even if Michael escaped, he couldn't go to the police. No one would believe his crazy story without the footage, and he'd be no threat to Stan if he was running from the authorities all his life. Stan would never expect him to stay and save Toni, so he wouldn't be cautious about looking behind him. That was exactly the advantage Michael needed.

The library shelves were divided, and when they'd first entered the room, Michael had noticed that they'd attached them to the ceiling with eye hooks. It was a sturdy enough method if they were evenly balanced, but one section wasn't. They were rearranging the philosophy section. Four shelves were empty on one side, down at the bottom, where it counted. And Stan was crawling right in front of it.

Michael hurtled forward and pushed with all his strength. The bookcase swayed and toppled with a crash. There was a scream of pain. Toni? No, not Toni. And then the lights came on to blind him.

“Jesus, Mike! Did you leave anything for us to do?” It was Harry Evans, helping Toni to her feet and grinning like a Cheshire cat. “We had you covered all the time, Mike. No problem, until Toni switched off the lights.”

“Harry!” Toni looked dazed, “But how did you—”

“Brilliant detective work on my part. Take care of her, will you Mike? I've got things to do.”

Michael heard Harry tell all his men to take Stan to the station and book him. And not to forget to read him his rights, because he was a lawyer and they didn't want this one dismissed on a technicality. And then Toni was in his arms, warm and safe and whole. How close they'd come! He'd never let her go again.

“Well, how about that?” Harry came up to them and slapped Michael on the back. “Busy night, huh, Mike?”

Toni was laughing hysterically, and Michael couldn't blame her. He tried to kiss her, but she just laughed harder and pointed down at the floor. Books were scattered all over, heavy philosophy books that had to weigh at least ten pounds apiece.