Raising Cain (25 page)

King glanced at Lin’s notes. “So what? We have the autopsy report establishing the cause of death. How can missing hands impeach
anything?”

“They could prove there was a struggle. The cuffs would have cut the wrists as he pulled away from the grid.”

King drummed his fingers on the table. “Of course he struggled. He was being zapped like a bug!”

“The evidence doesn’t show it,” Lin replied, withdrawing the autopsy report. “’Hands removed for further testing’ is all it
says about the hand and wrist area.”

“So what? It’s a minor detail.”

Lin disagreed. “Minor now, maybe…”

“But?”

“What if they decide to raise a particular defense?”

“Such as?”

Lin passed a photo of Ruth’s blackened face across to her boss.

“Such as Ruth
didn’t
struggle because he was the only one there.”

“What are you implying?”

“Maybe this wasn’t a murder after all…. Maybe he killed
himself
.”

“This is a
murder
case, Lin. Murder with a capital M.” “But the evidence—”

“Don’t say it again,” King warned. “Ruth was
murdered
. And that’s all there is to it.”

Indian summer had come to the valley. After weeks of heavy frost, rising temperatures had killed the autumn chill. Gardner
and Jennifer strolled arm-in-arm outside the courthouse. The air was alive with bees and the smell of burning leaves.

“I
am
being supportive,” Jennifer declared.

“That’s what you say,” Gardner replied, “but I know you’re upset.”

They stopped by a park bench and sat down. Above, brown maple leaves jiggled in the soft wind.

“I’m not upset,” Jennifer said. “It’s just…”

Gardner rested his arms on his knees.

“You left me in limbo,” Jennifer continued.

Gardner kicked back against the bench. “You starting on
that
again?”

“No. I’m not on
that
.” She stopped talking.

“What is it?”

“I don’t understand you. Some things come really hard, and others seem so easy.”

“What do you
mean
?”

“When Brownie calls, you run. Snap! No hesitation, no agonizing, no second thoughts.”

“Brownie is my best friend, Jen. He saved my life. He needs me.”

“He’s not the
only
one in your life who needs you.”

“Don’t start, please.”

“Explain it to me.”

“Explain what?”

“How can you make such a decision so suddenly? You said you’d find another way to help. That you wouldn’t quit…”

“It was the
only
thing I could do.”

“So you closed your eyes and jumped.”

Gardner nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“You ended a twenty-year career in a heartbeat.”

Gardner nodded again.

Jennifer looked down. “I see.…You can jump for Brownie, but you can’t jump for
me
.”

Gardner tried to raise her chin, but she resisted. “It’s not the same, Jen. This is different from our situation. There are
more considerations
we
have to deal with, a lot more complications.”

Jennifer’s eyes slowly came up. “
Different
?”

“Yes. Apples and oranges.”

“It’s not different. It’s about commitment. You can make it for one person, but not another.
That’s
what I don’t understand.”

“Let’s discuss it later, Jen.
Please
. We have a case to prepare.”

“But not now,” Jennifer said under her breath.

“When this is over, we’ll hash it all out. I swear. Just give me a break for
now.
“

“So what am
I
supposed to do in the meantime?” Jennifer finally asked. “Stand by my man, or go my own way? Prosecution was
my
career, too.”

“You do not have to quit; I told you that. We can do an
Adam’s Rib
routine. I’ll play Tracy and you he Hepburn.”

A child suddenly raced past, laughing. Jennifer watched him turn the corner.

“You do not have to follow your man,” Gardner continued. “I want you to do what
you
want, not what I want.”

Jennifer adjusted her glasses. The bright rays turned the auburn highlights in her hair a deep red. “So you say.”

“What’s the problem now?”

“You need me on the case. You haven’t said it, but I know.”

Gardner hesitated. “I can do this on my own. I’m capable.”

“But you still need me to help. You’re pressuring me, and you don’t even realize it.”

“I’m trying not to.” If Jennifer decided to stay with the prosecutor’s office, Gardner would survive. Somehow.

“Let’s examine the consequences,” Jennifer went on. “If I did keep my job, what would happen?”

“They have to appoint an interim State’s Attorney to complete my term. You could apply.”

“Me? State’s Attorney? That sounds intriguing. Would the judges give it to me?”

“It depends on King. If
he
applies, it’s all over.”

“Do you think he wants a permanent position?”

“I’m not sure. Brownie’s case is probably a one-shot deal.”

“But if King does apply, I’d be working for
him
.”

“Right.”

Jennifer rolled her head back and looked up. A lone cloud drifted in the cobalt sky.

“King cannot apply until this case is over,” Gardner said. “Under the terms of the special prosecutor’s order, he is a separate
entity with no official affiliation to the elected office.”

“So there’s time.”

“Right. You don’t have to do anything immediately.”

“What about discussions?”

“What do you mean?”

“As Hepburn and Tracy we can’t even discuss the case.”

Gardner inhaled. “You’re right. If I’m out and you’re still in, ethically we can’t share information.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, aware of the barrier imposed between them by order of law. “So what now?” Jennifer asked.

Gardner touched his lips to her ear. The wind gusted, and the leaves rattled. “That’s up to you.”

Jennifer reached into her purse and withdrew an envelope.

“What’s that?”

Jennifer opened it and unfolded a letter. “My decision.”

Gardner read it aloud. “’Resignation effective immediately.’Jen, are you
sure
about this?”

Jennifer nodded sadly. “Yes. Under the circumstances, I don’t seem to have a choice.”

*   *   *

Gardner’s and Jennifer’s resignations required them to vacate the State’s Attorney’s office immediately. There was no way
they could conduct defense work from prosecution headquarters, so a hasty call to a colleague with space available across
town solved the relocation problem. Now all they had to do was gather their personal belongings and leave.

Gardner was piling mementos in a box when his phone buzzed.

“Reverend Taylor to see you,” his secretary, Miss Cass, announced.

The door was yanked open and the reverend rushed in, followed by Willie Stanton. “Sneaking out of town?” Taylor demanded.

Gardner placed a county service plaque in the box and tried to compose himself. He had been concerned this might happen.

“Reverend…”

“I thought you were different,” Taylor interrupted, “but you’re not. You’re nothing but a patronizing hypocrite.”

Gardner glanced at Stanton behind the reverend. “Hi, Willie,” he replied.

Stanton self-consciously raised his hand.

“Person of your stature should have shown more class,” Taylor blustered, “had the courtesy to warn a man before sticking a
dagger in his back.”

Gardner looked his accuser in the eye. “I’m sorry I didn’t contact you,” he said. “I did only what I thought was best for
Brownie.”

“His name is
Joseph
Brown, and you made a big mistake,” Taylor continued. “You dissed
this
man here and the whole Blocktown community! We had Brother Brown taken care of.
We
did! Didn’t ask for help from you or nobody else. Didn’t
want
help from you or nobody else!”

“What’s the trouble?” Jennifer asked as she walked into the room.

“I seem to have stepped on some toes,” Gardner said.

“Mr. Lawson has decided that the intellect in our part of town is inferior to his,” Taylor declared. “He knows what’s right
for us better than we do ourselves.”

“No,” Jennifer protested. “He’s not like that.”

“He called this man a moron,” Taylor said.

Gardner looked at Stanton. “Tell him, Willie,” he instructed. “Tell him I didn’t diss you, and tell him why.”

“Don’t you order him to do nothin’,” Taylor snapped.

“I’m not ordering,” Gardner replied firmly. “Please tell him why I had to do it, Willie. Tell him how much trial experience
you’ve had. Tell him—”

Stanton was about to answer when the reverend cut in. “You saying he
can’t
do it? That he don’t have the brains or the talent to do what Lawson can do?”

“No!” Gardner parried. “Cut the race crap! I’m
not
questioning Mr. Stanton’s ability, just his experience. It’s got nothing to do with who he is. It’s a practical problem.”

“But you’re saying he
can’t
do it!” Taylor argued. “And now you said to the world he’s not up to the job! How’s he gonna hold up his head in the neighborhood?
What are folks gonna say? Poor Brother William, he can sit up front on a small case, but when a big one comes, he’s got to
move to the back of the bus!”

Stanton lowered his eyes. People
would
say that.

“You see what you did?” Taylor charged. “You stomped on his dignity.”

Gardner shook his head. “I’m sorry. My only intention was to help Joseph Brown. I never meant to hurt Willie.”

“
William
.”

“William.”

“Why did you hire him in the first place?” Jennifer asked. “You knew he was inexperienced and that it was a complicated case.
You set this situation up yourself.”

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you,” Taylor answered coolly. “We tried to help, and Brother Brown accepted our offering.
It was none of your concern. It was between
us
.”

“Brother Brown still needs your help,” Gardner said.

“That’s out of our hands
now
,” the reverend replied. “You just slammed the door.”

“You can still give him support,” Gardner continued.

“You want money? You want
us
to pay
you
?”

“No! He needs moral support, cooperation—”

“Cooperation?”

Gardner tensed. He had not wanted to raise the issue this way. Ruth’s killer might still be in Blocktown, and the only way
to save Brownie would be to find him.

“What do you mean by that?” Taylor asked.

“As his lawyer, I’ll want to question some folks in Blocktown as I put together my defense.”

Taylor eyed him suspiciously. “About what?”

“What they saw or heard the night Ruth died.”

“We had that under control,” Taylor said.

“I understand. But if I’m going to help Joseph, I’ll need to tap into your sources. Can you arrange it? If we work together
we can still accomplish the same goal.”

Taylor took Stanton’s arm and directed him toward the door.

“You
do
want to help Joseph Brown….” Gardner persisted.

But Taylor and Stanton left the room without saying another word.

Gardner looked at Jennifer. “Can you believe that? Do you think it’s
racial
?”

“I’m not sure. Taylor talks that way, but…”

“There’s something else going on.”

Jennifer nodded. “What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” Gardner replied, “but we sure as hell better find out.”

“I don’t like you, Frank,” Kent King said.

“That’s gratitude.” Frank Davis pulled the bill of his cap down over his eyes. The sun backlit the attorney like a flare.
They were in the parking lot behind King’s office.

“I said I didn’t like you, not that I didn’t appreciate you.” Davis had volunteered his services after the special prosecutor
appointment and filled in several crucial gaps in the case against Brownie.

“Why are you down on me? Without my help you never could have indicted Brown.”

“That’s true, but I never requested your assistance.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t like traitors.”

“Traitors?”

“A person who turns on his friends.”

Davis laughed. “Brown is not my friend.”

“You know what I mean. He’s a fellow cop.”

“What’s going on, Mr. King?”

“Gardner Lawson has just taken over as Brown’s attorney, in case you hadn’t heard.”

Davis nodded. Everyone in town was talking about it. “So?”

“So he isn’t going to be a walk-over like Willie Stanton.”

“Yeah?”

“So your activities prior to Ruth’s killing have a much better chance of coming to light.”

“I thought we resolved that.”

“We did, up to a point. But with Lawson in there I’ve got to take some precautions. I can’t afford for my familiarity with
that situation to compromise the prosecution.”

Davis squinted into the sun. “What do you want me to do?”

“You have to take a polygraph examination. I need you absolved of any connection with Ruth’s death. And then, I want you to
withdraw your application for promotion. You cannot step into Brown’s shoes until he’s permanently out of the way. You understand
that?”

Davis nodded slowly.

“You are more of a liability than an asset, Frank. Keep that in mind.”

“Fuck you, too,” Davis said under his breath.

“What’d you say?”

Davis moved to the side so the sun didn’t blind him anymore. “I said fuckin’ Brown is through.”

“Oh.” King smiled. “At least we agree on one thing. Do as I tell you, keep a low profile, and we’ll get the job done. But
don’t fuck with me, Frank.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Funny,” King said. “I just heard you say you would.”

The warden had done it again. He’d managed to get the computer in his office hooked up to the FBI fingerprint data bank. And
tonight he’d turned it over to his number one prisoner.