Smash Cut (11 page)
Authors: Sandra Brown
Tags: #Legal, #Suspense, #Fiction, #General, #Georgia, #Thrillers, #Rich people, #Atlanta (Ga.), #Trials (Murder), #Legal stories, #Rich People - Georgia
Maggie stood up and growled. Seconds later Dereks doorbell rang. He looked at the clock on his desk. Who the hell?
Hed come home, bringing a carryout dinner with him. He ate it while catching the first few innings of the Braves game on TV, then went into his home office, where hed been working for the rest of the evening. It would take him several days to bring himself up to speed on everything that had transpired while he was away, and he got more done at home after hours than he did in the office when his attention was in high demand.
Barefoot, wearing only gym shorts and an old T-shirt, he went through the house, turning on lights. He wasnt expecting company, and certainly wasnt expecting the person he saw through the peephole of his front door.
He undid the lock and opened the door. What the hell are you doing here?
Creighton Wheeler brushed past him and strode in. I want you to get her off my back. I dont care how much it costs, or what strings you have to pull, or what hoops you have to jump through. Do whatever you have to, just get her to leave me the fuck alone.
Come in, Derek said caustically as he swung shut his front door.
Shes gone beyond finger-pointing and name-calling.
First of all, who is she? Roberta Kimball?
Julie Rutledge, Creighton said, enunciating. At first it was just insulting remarks dropped here and there. Shes moved past that He broke off and warily regarded Maggie, who was still growling. She wont bite, will she?
Derek ordered his dog to sit. Shed responded to the anger in his voice, but it was his unexpected guest, not Maggie, whod made him mad as hell. Where do you get off, coming to my house at this time of night, storming in here? Youve got your gall.
And a lot of money.
Derek closed the distance between them and jabbed his finger toward Creightons face. Which entitles you to
nothing
. Certainly not the right to barge in on me at home. I will not represent you. I dont know how to make it any clearer.
Creighton assumed that arrogant stance that had caused Derek to despise him on sight. Derek didnt quail, and eventually something in his angry demeanor must have penetrated. Gradually, Creighton took several steps backward. He patted the space between them with both hands. All right, all right. Im sorry I didnt call ahead of time. That was rude. But it was imperative that I speak with you.
Then you should have called my office and made an appointment during business hours.
Would you have seen me?
No.
Creighton made a gesture that said,
Exactly.
I said everything I had to say to you this afternoon.
When we met this afternoon, Julie Rutledge wasnt stalking me.
Stalking
you?
Thats right. Shes lost her reason. She must be suffering from post-traumatic stress caused by the shooting. Something. I dont know. I wouldnt care except that shes focused her craziness on me. Shes accusing me of taking some part in that cock-up robbery when my uncle got shot. Yes, she actually said, I know you were behind his murder.
Julie had deceived Derek, but he didnt believe her to be unreasonable, suffering from PTSD, or crazy. In fact, quite the opposite. But he wasnt supposed to know her personally. He said, She didnt appear to be deranged when I saw her on television.
Creighton seemed not to hear that. Im going to get a restraining order against her. Or rather, you are.
I beg your pardon?
Tomorrow. I want you to go to a judge, or whatever it is you do to get a restraining order. In the frame of mind shes in, God knows what shes likely to do. I dont want her anywhere near me. Get a restraining order, so she can be arrested if she invades my privacy.
Its not that easy, Creighton.
The harder it is, the more money youll make, so what are you worried about?
Derek was worried that he might yet knock this rich son of a bitch on his ass for thinking that anythingincluding Derek Mitchellwas attainable if you threw enough money at it. But slugging him wouldnt accomplish anything except possibly getting himself sued, so he exercised amazing self-control and asked, What set you off? What happened? What gave you the impression that Ms. Rutledge is a danger to your person?
To demonstrate that he was prepared to listen, Derek backed into a chair and sat down. Maggie parked herself at his feet and kept a suspicious eye on the man in the impeccably tailored cream-colored suit as he paced the entryway and told Derek about an encounter with Julie Rutledge at a nightclub called Christys.
When he finished, Derek asked, What was she doing there?
Havent you been listening? She was stalking me.
Was she with anyone?
I dont know. I dont believe so. Creightons fingers were flexing and extending at his sides, revealing his impatience. What the fuck difference does it make whether she was alone or not? I caught her staring at me in the mirror. I wont have her trailing me. Youve got to do something about it.
Wrong. I dont. Calmly Derek folded his arms over his chest. You and Julie Rutledge happened to see each other in a popular bar. A chance encounter
Chance, my ass.
A chance meeting in a public place does not stalking make.
She followed me there.
Derek raised one shoulder. Possibly.
Definitely.
Do you have proof of that?
Of course not, I just know.
Shes followed you before?
I havent seen her, but that doesnt mean she wasnt hiding in the background.
It was all Derek could do to keep a straight face. Hiding in the background? Like behind the shrubbery? Why would she want to spy on you, Creighton?
Because shes delusional.
Have you seen her lurking around your place? Your Porsche? Your tennis locker? Derek saw that Creighton didnt like his intentional gibes.
You think this is funny? he asked tightly.
Derek dropped the nonsense and came to his feet. If Julie Rutledge starts calling you in the middle of the night issuing death threats, or begins sending you dire messages through the mail, or boils a bunny in your spaghetti pot He paused, waiting for Creighton to comment. When he didnt, he said, That was a movie reference.
I got it, Creighton said in that taut voice that barely moved his lips.
If she starts doing things like that,
then
would be the time to apply for a restraining order.
You would handle it?
With reluctance, and only because he was tired and wanted Creighton Wheeler out of his house, Derek said, I would consider it.
Creighton didnt look happy, but he appeared mollified, certainly calmer. All right then. Good. Ill be in touch.
Derek went to the front door and opened it. As Creighton walked past him, Derek caught his shoulder and turned the younger man to face him. I dont care how much money youve got, dont ever,
ever
, come to my house again.
Creighton snuffled a laugh. Or what?
Or Ill hurt you.
Creighton flashed his most handsome smile. Promise? Then he blew Derek an air kiss and sauntered toward his Porsche parked at the curb.
Hed come home, bringing a carryout dinner with him. He ate it while catching the first few innings of the Braves game on TV, then went into his home office, where hed been working for the rest of the evening. It would take him several days to bring himself up to speed on everything that had transpired while he was away, and he got more done at home after hours than he did in the office when his attention was in high demand.
Barefoot, wearing only gym shorts and an old T-shirt, he went through the house, turning on lights. He wasnt expecting company, and certainly wasnt expecting the person he saw through the peephole of his front door.
He undid the lock and opened the door. What the hell are you doing here?
Creighton Wheeler brushed past him and strode in. I want you to get her off my back. I dont care how much it costs, or what strings you have to pull, or what hoops you have to jump through. Do whatever you have to, just get her to leave me the fuck alone.
Come in, Derek said caustically as he swung shut his front door.
Shes gone beyond finger-pointing and name-calling.
First of all, who is she? Roberta Kimball?
Julie Rutledge, Creighton said, enunciating. At first it was just insulting remarks dropped here and there. Shes moved past that He broke off and warily regarded Maggie, who was still growling. She wont bite, will she?
Derek ordered his dog to sit. Shed responded to the anger in his voice, but it was his unexpected guest, not Maggie, whod made him mad as hell. Where do you get off, coming to my house at this time of night, storming in here? Youve got your gall.
And a lot of money.
Derek closed the distance between them and jabbed his finger toward Creightons face. Which entitles you to
nothing
. Certainly not the right to barge in on me at home. I will not represent you. I dont know how to make it any clearer.
Creighton assumed that arrogant stance that had caused Derek to despise him on sight. Derek didnt quail, and eventually something in his angry demeanor must have penetrated. Gradually, Creighton took several steps backward. He patted the space between them with both hands. All right, all right. Im sorry I didnt call ahead of time. That was rude. But it was imperative that I speak with you.
Then you should have called my office and made an appointment during business hours.
Would you have seen me?
No.
Creighton made a gesture that said,
Exactly.
I said everything I had to say to you this afternoon.
When we met this afternoon, Julie Rutledge wasnt stalking me.
Stalking
you?
Thats right. Shes lost her reason. She must be suffering from post-traumatic stress caused by the shooting. Something. I dont know. I wouldnt care except that shes focused her craziness on me. Shes accusing me of taking some part in that cock-up robbery when my uncle got shot. Yes, she actually said, I know you were behind his murder.
Julie had deceived Derek, but he didnt believe her to be unreasonable, suffering from PTSD, or crazy. In fact, quite the opposite. But he wasnt supposed to know her personally. He said, She didnt appear to be deranged when I saw her on television.
Creighton seemed not to hear that. Im going to get a restraining order against her. Or rather, you are.
I beg your pardon?
Tomorrow. I want you to go to a judge, or whatever it is you do to get a restraining order. In the frame of mind shes in, God knows what shes likely to do. I dont want her anywhere near me. Get a restraining order, so she can be arrested if she invades my privacy.
Its not that easy, Creighton.
The harder it is, the more money youll make, so what are you worried about?
Derek was worried that he might yet knock this rich son of a bitch on his ass for thinking that anythingincluding Derek Mitchellwas attainable if you threw enough money at it. But slugging him wouldnt accomplish anything except possibly getting himself sued, so he exercised amazing self-control and asked, What set you off? What happened? What gave you the impression that Ms. Rutledge is a danger to your person?
To demonstrate that he was prepared to listen, Derek backed into a chair and sat down. Maggie parked herself at his feet and kept a suspicious eye on the man in the impeccably tailored cream-colored suit as he paced the entryway and told Derek about an encounter with Julie Rutledge at a nightclub called Christys.
When he finished, Derek asked, What was she doing there?
Havent you been listening? She was stalking me.
Was she with anyone?
I dont know. I dont believe so. Creightons fingers were flexing and extending at his sides, revealing his impatience. What the fuck difference does it make whether she was alone or not? I caught her staring at me in the mirror. I wont have her trailing me. Youve got to do something about it.
Wrong. I dont. Calmly Derek folded his arms over his chest. You and Julie Rutledge happened to see each other in a popular bar. A chance encounter
Chance, my ass.
A chance meeting in a public place does not stalking make.
She followed me there.
Derek raised one shoulder. Possibly.
Definitely.
Do you have proof of that?
Of course not, I just know.
Shes followed you before?
I havent seen her, but that doesnt mean she wasnt hiding in the background.
It was all Derek could do to keep a straight face. Hiding in the background? Like behind the shrubbery? Why would she want to spy on you, Creighton?
Because shes delusional.
Have you seen her lurking around your place? Your Porsche? Your tennis locker? Derek saw that Creighton didnt like his intentional gibes.
You think this is funny? he asked tightly.
Derek dropped the nonsense and came to his feet. If Julie Rutledge starts calling you in the middle of the night issuing death threats, or begins sending you dire messages through the mail, or boils a bunny in your spaghetti pot He paused, waiting for Creighton to comment. When he didnt, he said, That was a movie reference.
I got it, Creighton said in that taut voice that barely moved his lips.
If she starts doing things like that,
then
would be the time to apply for a restraining order.
You would handle it?
With reluctance, and only because he was tired and wanted Creighton Wheeler out of his house, Derek said, I would consider it.
Creighton didnt look happy, but he appeared mollified, certainly calmer. All right then. Good. Ill be in touch.
Derek went to the front door and opened it. As Creighton walked past him, Derek caught his shoulder and turned the younger man to face him. I dont care how much money youve got, dont ever,
ever
, come to my house again.
Creighton snuffled a laugh. Or what?
Or Ill hurt you.
Creighton flashed his most handsome smile. Promise? Then he blew Derek an air kiss and sauntered toward his Porsche parked at the curb.
CHAPTER
11
A
DOYENNE OF ATLANTA SOCIETY PASSED JULIE AN ENVELOPE. Heres your tax receipt. You can fill in the amount of the market value of the painting. What should be the floor of the bidding?
Chez Jean had donated a painting to be auctioned that night at a charity event to raise money for a new childrens cancer hospital. One of her earlier works sold last week in Sausalito for seventy-two hundred.
Lets make the floor five thousand.
I hope itll bring a lot more.
Im sure it will. The older woman assessed the painting with a discerning eye. I intend to bid on it myself.
Julie smiled. Good luck. She went on to explain how she planned to get the painting to the venue. Kate was discussing the merits of a work with another customer, an elderly gentleman who frequently stopped in but had never actually purchased anything. Julie suspected that he made his rounds of local shops in search of company rather than merchandise, but she and Kate enjoyed his visits. He never outstayed his welcome.
When the chime above the gallery door announced a new arrival, Julie turned, ready to greet a customer. Instead, Detectives Kimball and Sanford came in, and if theyd been outfitted in riot gear they couldnt have looked more like police officers. Their bearing was official. Everyone fell silent and stared.
Good morning, Julie said pleasantly.
The two responded appropriately.
Ill be right with you.
Take your time, said Kimball, who seemed more at ease than Sanford, although Julie suspected that the female detectives nonchalance was a pose. Roberta Kimball didnt strike her as someone who frequented art galleries.
Julie turned back to the society matron. Ill stay after the event and crate the painting for the new buyer to ensure it wont be damaged in transit.
That would be lovely. Her wrinkled face took on a sad aspect as she patted Julies hand. I know this is a terrible time for you, dear. She cast a glance at the two detectives, who were studying the artworksor pretending to. Paul was a wonderful person. I still cant believe he died in such a horrible manner.
With that, the woman left. The elderly gentleman kissed Kate on the cheek and made his departure.
Looks like weve cleared the room, Kimball said. Sorry about that.
You didnt cost us a sale. What brings you?
The two detectives looked toward Kate, who was standing nearby, seeming uncertain of what she should do. Julie made introductions, which were followed by an awkward silence.
Kate asked, Would anyone like an espresso?
I would, thanks, Kimball said. Sanford declined.
Well be in the parlor, Julie told Kate, who excused herself to get the refreshment.
Julie showed them the way. At this same time yesterday, shed been sharing the parlor with Derek Mitchell. She wondered if she would ever go into the room again without thinking of him. Doubtful. He seemed to have left his essence, which assailed her as the three of them filed in.
The detectives sat down on the short sofa. Julie took a chair facing them. Sanford began by holding up a manila envelope. We have more pictures.
Of the same man?
Kimball nodded. Weve got him passing through the lobby the two days prior to the crime. One of the pictures is a pretty good shot.
May I see?
Sanford opened the envelope, withdrew several eight-by-ten glossies, and passed them to Julie. The top one is the best.
Kate came in bearing a small tray with a demitasse cup of espresso for Kimball. She served it while Julie studied the photograph. It was superior to the one shed seen the day before, but not by much. It was grainy and out of focus. She flipped through the others, but as Sanford had said, the top one was the best of the lot.
Its definitely the same man in all of them, she said.
Kimball sipped her espresso and gave Kate a nod of thanks.
Unmistakably the same man, Julie continued. But Ive never seen him before.
Sanfords disappointment showed. Youre certain?
Positive. I dont know him.
Sanford sat back, stretched his arms out along the back of the sofa. He looked at Kate. Id take a glass of water if youve got it.
Kate, who was looking over Julies shoulder at the photograph, jumped to obey. Certainly. Julie?
No thank you.
The young woman went out, leaving Julie alone with the two detectives, who were studying her with a concentration similar to that with which Derek Mitchell had studied the painting of the naked fat man.
What is it? she asked.
Walk us through it again, Sanford said.
The holdup?
The whole thing. From the time you and Paul Wheeler left the suite.
She looked at Kimball, whose expression remained implacable. Shed finished her espresso and was sitting forward with her elbows on her knees. Sanford was still leaning back against the cushion. Both looked on full alert.
Julie patiently repeated her account. When she reached the point where she first saw the robber, she stopped. Maybe if youd tell me what youre particularly interested in, I could
We dont want you to skip anything, Kimball said. Keep going, please.
Julie waited while Kate came in and served Sanford his water, then picked up at her stopping point and talked them through the entirety of it, ending with the arrival of the paramedics. Until they got there, no one was able to pull me away from Paul. I held him until I was forced to let go.
No one said anything for several moments. Sanford took a drink from his glass of water, then placed it on the table beside Kimballs empty demitasse cup. Kimball was the first to break the uncomfortable silence.
We sent these new photos to the others. All have come back negative on an ID, same as you.
The robber had on the mask, the sunglasses, the gloves. It would be impossible to match him to the man in these photographs.
Right, Kimball said. We didnt count on getting that lucky. But, while we had them on the phone, we had each of them talk through it again, just as we did you. And something the ladies saidboth of them, independentlystruck us. Something we either hadnt caught before or hadnt paid attention to.
Julie shifted her gaze to Sanford, but his liquid eyes gave nothing away. In the true spirit of their partnership, she suspected they had decided earlier that Kimball should take the lead this time round.
Looking back at her, Julie asked, Well, what was it?
You didnt kneel. When the robber demanded that everybody drop to their knees, you remained standing.
I knelt.
But not right away. Why? Kimball pressed. Heres a masked man aiming a gun at you, yelling for you to drop. One of the women from Nashville admits to being so scared, she wet herself. She dropped to the floor immediately, afraid that if she didnt he would shoot her. Her friend did the same.
The man from California Julie began.
Kimball cut her off. Says he was too frozen with fear to move. Then the robber poked the pistol at him and told him to get down, and he did. You didnt. They all say you defied him. You argued with him, told him that Wheeler had arthritic knees. It was ultimately he, Wheeler, who pulled you down beside him.
Sanford, finally becoming engaged, lowered his arms and sat forward, matching the posture of his partner. Are you extraordinarily brave, Ms. Rutledge?
Ive never considered myself to be, but my courage has never been tested to that extent. People react differently to mortal fear. I dont think we know how well react until were placed in that kind of situation. I dont remember feeling particularly brave.
What were you feeling? Kimball asked.
She hesitated, then replied, Resignation.
There was a short pause, then Sanford said, You thought hed kill you no matter what you did?
She met the detectives incisive gaze, then looked at Kimball, who was watching her just as intently. I knew he would. I knew the instant I saw him that the robbery was bogus. He was there to kill Paul and, I was sure, to kill me, too.
If I didnt kneel down as soon as he ordered it, I think it was because I knew it wouldnt change the outcome. I was staring into the lenses of his sunglasses trying to see through them.
In the hope of persuading him not to kill you?
No. To identify his eyes.
Did you?
She lowered her head, shaking it. I was looking for Creighton.
It wasnt him, Ms. Rutledge.
I know that now.
The gallery phone rang. Julie heard Kates muted French accent through the walls, Chez Jean. Im sorry, shes in a meeting just now.
Shes being interrogated by the police.
That would have been a more accurate statement. This interview had taken on the tone of an interrogation, and it was making her distinctly uneasy.
Why is this important now? What difference does it make at what point I knelt?
Sanford spoke in a low voice. You say that, whether you had knelt or not, it wouldnt have changed the outcome.
And it didnt.
Paul Wheeler is dead, but youre still here.
Stating the obvious, Julie said.
Well, yeah, see thats why this could be significant, Sanford said.
Julie looked at them in turn. Forgive me, Detectives. Im still missing your point.
Heres the point, Ms. Rutledge, Kimball said. The case could be made that you didnt kneel when the robber ordered you to because you knew you werent in any danger from him.
DOYENNE OF ATLANTA SOCIETY PASSED JULIE AN ENVELOPE. Heres your tax receipt. You can fill in the amount of the market value of the painting. What should be the floor of the bidding?
Chez Jean had donated a painting to be auctioned that night at a charity event to raise money for a new childrens cancer hospital. One of her earlier works sold last week in Sausalito for seventy-two hundred.
Lets make the floor five thousand.
I hope itll bring a lot more.
Im sure it will. The older woman assessed the painting with a discerning eye. I intend to bid on it myself.
Julie smiled. Good luck. She went on to explain how she planned to get the painting to the venue. Kate was discussing the merits of a work with another customer, an elderly gentleman who frequently stopped in but had never actually purchased anything. Julie suspected that he made his rounds of local shops in search of company rather than merchandise, but she and Kate enjoyed his visits. He never outstayed his welcome.
When the chime above the gallery door announced a new arrival, Julie turned, ready to greet a customer. Instead, Detectives Kimball and Sanford came in, and if theyd been outfitted in riot gear they couldnt have looked more like police officers. Their bearing was official. Everyone fell silent and stared.
Good morning, Julie said pleasantly.
The two responded appropriately.
Ill be right with you.
Take your time, said Kimball, who seemed more at ease than Sanford, although Julie suspected that the female detectives nonchalance was a pose. Roberta Kimball didnt strike her as someone who frequented art galleries.
Julie turned back to the society matron. Ill stay after the event and crate the painting for the new buyer to ensure it wont be damaged in transit.
That would be lovely. Her wrinkled face took on a sad aspect as she patted Julies hand. I know this is a terrible time for you, dear. She cast a glance at the two detectives, who were studying the artworksor pretending to. Paul was a wonderful person. I still cant believe he died in such a horrible manner.
With that, the woman left. The elderly gentleman kissed Kate on the cheek and made his departure.
Looks like weve cleared the room, Kimball said. Sorry about that.
You didnt cost us a sale. What brings you?
The two detectives looked toward Kate, who was standing nearby, seeming uncertain of what she should do. Julie made introductions, which were followed by an awkward silence.
Kate asked, Would anyone like an espresso?
I would, thanks, Kimball said. Sanford declined.
Well be in the parlor, Julie told Kate, who excused herself to get the refreshment.
Julie showed them the way. At this same time yesterday, shed been sharing the parlor with Derek Mitchell. She wondered if she would ever go into the room again without thinking of him. Doubtful. He seemed to have left his essence, which assailed her as the three of them filed in.
The detectives sat down on the short sofa. Julie took a chair facing them. Sanford began by holding up a manila envelope. We have more pictures.
Of the same man?
Kimball nodded. Weve got him passing through the lobby the two days prior to the crime. One of the pictures is a pretty good shot.
May I see?
Sanford opened the envelope, withdrew several eight-by-ten glossies, and passed them to Julie. The top one is the best.
Kate came in bearing a small tray with a demitasse cup of espresso for Kimball. She served it while Julie studied the photograph. It was superior to the one shed seen the day before, but not by much. It was grainy and out of focus. She flipped through the others, but as Sanford had said, the top one was the best of the lot.
Its definitely the same man in all of them, she said.
Kimball sipped her espresso and gave Kate a nod of thanks.
Unmistakably the same man, Julie continued. But Ive never seen him before.
Sanfords disappointment showed. Youre certain?
Positive. I dont know him.
Sanford sat back, stretched his arms out along the back of the sofa. He looked at Kate. Id take a glass of water if youve got it.
Kate, who was looking over Julies shoulder at the photograph, jumped to obey. Certainly. Julie?
No thank you.
The young woman went out, leaving Julie alone with the two detectives, who were studying her with a concentration similar to that with which Derek Mitchell had studied the painting of the naked fat man.
What is it? she asked.
Walk us through it again, Sanford said.
The holdup?
The whole thing. From the time you and Paul Wheeler left the suite.
She looked at Kimball, whose expression remained implacable. Shed finished her espresso and was sitting forward with her elbows on her knees. Sanford was still leaning back against the cushion. Both looked on full alert.
Julie patiently repeated her account. When she reached the point where she first saw the robber, she stopped. Maybe if youd tell me what youre particularly interested in, I could
We dont want you to skip anything, Kimball said. Keep going, please.
Julie waited while Kate came in and served Sanford his water, then picked up at her stopping point and talked them through the entirety of it, ending with the arrival of the paramedics. Until they got there, no one was able to pull me away from Paul. I held him until I was forced to let go.
No one said anything for several moments. Sanford took a drink from his glass of water, then placed it on the table beside Kimballs empty demitasse cup. Kimball was the first to break the uncomfortable silence.
We sent these new photos to the others. All have come back negative on an ID, same as you.
The robber had on the mask, the sunglasses, the gloves. It would be impossible to match him to the man in these photographs.
Right, Kimball said. We didnt count on getting that lucky. But, while we had them on the phone, we had each of them talk through it again, just as we did you. And something the ladies saidboth of them, independentlystruck us. Something we either hadnt caught before or hadnt paid attention to.
Julie shifted her gaze to Sanford, but his liquid eyes gave nothing away. In the true spirit of their partnership, she suspected they had decided earlier that Kimball should take the lead this time round.
Looking back at her, Julie asked, Well, what was it?
You didnt kneel. When the robber demanded that everybody drop to their knees, you remained standing.
I knelt.
But not right away. Why? Kimball pressed. Heres a masked man aiming a gun at you, yelling for you to drop. One of the women from Nashville admits to being so scared, she wet herself. She dropped to the floor immediately, afraid that if she didnt he would shoot her. Her friend did the same.
The man from California Julie began.
Kimball cut her off. Says he was too frozen with fear to move. Then the robber poked the pistol at him and told him to get down, and he did. You didnt. They all say you defied him. You argued with him, told him that Wheeler had arthritic knees. It was ultimately he, Wheeler, who pulled you down beside him.
Sanford, finally becoming engaged, lowered his arms and sat forward, matching the posture of his partner. Are you extraordinarily brave, Ms. Rutledge?
Ive never considered myself to be, but my courage has never been tested to that extent. People react differently to mortal fear. I dont think we know how well react until were placed in that kind of situation. I dont remember feeling particularly brave.
What were you feeling? Kimball asked.
She hesitated, then replied, Resignation.
There was a short pause, then Sanford said, You thought hed kill you no matter what you did?
She met the detectives incisive gaze, then looked at Kimball, who was watching her just as intently. I knew he would. I knew the instant I saw him that the robbery was bogus. He was there to kill Paul and, I was sure, to kill me, too.
If I didnt kneel down as soon as he ordered it, I think it was because I knew it wouldnt change the outcome. I was staring into the lenses of his sunglasses trying to see through them.
In the hope of persuading him not to kill you?
No. To identify his eyes.
Did you?
She lowered her head, shaking it. I was looking for Creighton.
It wasnt him, Ms. Rutledge.
I know that now.
The gallery phone rang. Julie heard Kates muted French accent through the walls, Chez Jean. Im sorry, shes in a meeting just now.
Shes being interrogated by the police.
That would have been a more accurate statement. This interview had taken on the tone of an interrogation, and it was making her distinctly uneasy.
Why is this important now? What difference does it make at what point I knelt?
Sanford spoke in a low voice. You say that, whether you had knelt or not, it wouldnt have changed the outcome.
And it didnt.
Paul Wheeler is dead, but youre still here.
Stating the obvious, Julie said.
Well, yeah, see thats why this could be significant, Sanford said.
Julie looked at them in turn. Forgive me, Detectives. Im still missing your point.
Heres the point, Ms. Rutledge, Kimball said. The case could be made that you didnt kneel when the robber ordered you to because you knew you werent in any danger from him.
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