The Judgment (6 page)

“You aren’t yet. But you could be. Big trouble.”

I walked back to my car and wondered where the son and heir might be. I hoped he wasn’t up in his bedroom targeting my head with a .22 rifle.

Snowflakes were starting to drift down. I backed out of the drive and headed home toward Pickeral Point. I didn’t feel very proud of myself. I did what had to be done, of course. But still, bullying people always left a bad taste in my mouth, even if they deserved it.

It would have been nice to stop for a quick drink. But I didn’t.

I reported what had happened to the bishop and Father Chuck. Both seemed as genuinely delighted as if I had just saved Rome from advancing Vandals. I sent the bishop a bill for a hundred dollars, which was probably well below the going rate for stopping advancing Vandals. Common sense told me to charge a regular fee; that way, I wouldn’t be called upon to handle the nickel-and-dime matters confronting the bishop from time to time. But I didn’t do that.

Mark Conroy’s examination was coming up, and during the week the deputy chief had driven up to my office several times so we could go over the case the prosecution might present. I felt instinctively that he was holding back. Not lying, but not telling me everything he knew. I wondered if I felt that because I didn’t like him, or whether my instincts were correct. We would find out at the examination.

Conroy was again in my office when I returned.

In Michigan, the prosecution must either present a case to the Grand Jury or present it to a judge in open court, called a preliminary examination. The defense doesn’t offer proofs. The only thing that needs to be shown is that a crime was committed and there is reasonable cause to
believe the defendant committed it. Either procedure keeps the prosecutor from bringing frivolous cases that he knows he can’t win.

The prosecutor had decided to go the preliminary examination route with Chief Conroy. It was a highly public case and the Grand Jury method was secret. The preliminary examination would allow the prosecution the chance to try the case in the newspapers and on television. Wonderful new careers could be carved out from such a juicy case.

I liked preliminary examinations. It gave me a chance to look at the opposition’s cards. Also it gave me some idea of how their witnesses would do on the stand in the main event.

Although Conroy denied it, I knew he had an army of policemen loyal to him combing the streets trying to locate the Mouse, the cop who was going to be the chief witness against him. I tried, too, but they had the Mouse tucked nicely away.

The prosecutor provided me with a list of witnesses, which I went over with Conroy.

Mostly, they were city officials whose only role was to say that the confiscated cash had been handled by Chief Conroy in a way forbidden by regulations. The Mouse would say that Conroy stole the money, or so I assumed.

A Mary Margaret Tucker was listed as a witness.

“Do you know her?” I asked Conroy.

“She was a civilian employee in the department,” he said. “She worked as my secretary.”

“Why would they call her as a witness?”

Conroy didn’t answer at once, but paused, then spoke. “This is somewhat embarrassing.”

“Girlfriend?”

He nodded. “It happens, Sloan.”

“How long did the affair go on?”

“A year or so.”

“When did it end?”

“It didn’t, or at least I didn’t think it had. She stopped
seeing me just before they dropped the net. I suppose, now that I look back, she was trying to break the thing off for some time.”

“She must have some connection with the missing money, or the prosecutor wouldn’t call her. I can keep her off the stand if his only intention is to embarrass you.”

“She didn’t have anything to do with the witness fund. In fact, she hasn’t worked for the department for the past month.”

“Where does she work now?”

“She doesn’t,” he said, dropping his voice.

“Were you taking care of her? Giving her money?”

He paused. “More or less.”

“It’s either one way or the other.”

“She’s living in a building I own. She’s a senior in college. As soon as she graduates, she’s going on to law school. I was, well, sort of financing her education.”

“How much a month?”

“Depends. Usually about a thousand, give or take.”

I looked at him. “Did your wife know?”

He shook his head. “No. She’s very busy. Works all the time. I don’t think she even suspects.”

“This is going to give you some problems at home.”

He sighed. “What’s to be is to be.”

“Did you give her money, or did the Mouse?”

“I did.” He hesitated. “Once in a while I’d give money to the Mouse to give to her. It depended on how busy I was.”

“You’ve got problems, Chief.”

“I know.”

“Everyone will think the money came from the secret fund.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“As I told you in the beginning, it doesn’t make any difference what I believe. Can you show the money came out of your personal accounts?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I had to do some bookkeeping magic so my wife wouldn’t suspect. I opened a special account. It got complicated.”

“Complicated or not, you had better start thinking of proving the money came out of your own pocket.”

“I’ll go to work on it,” he said, but without enthusiasm.

“When was the last time you talked to Mary Margaret?”

He thought for a moment. “A week or two back before all this went down. Later, when she didn’t answer the phone, I went over to the house. Some of her things are still there, but not her clothes. It looks like she’s skipped, too.”

“Like the Mouse?”

He nodded. “Like the Mouse.”

“Do you believe in prayer?”

“That bad?”

“I think so. We’ll find out more at the examination.”

He left the office. If he was worried, he didn’t show it.

But I was worried.

Now the snow was really coming down. “Be careful driving back to the city,” I said.

I had two more clients before the day ended. An elderly couple wanted a will. They had one child, a son. The purpose of the will wasn’t to see that the son got everything, quite the opposite. They wanted to ensure that he never got a cent. They were angry over a family matter. I tried to persuade them to wait, to cool off before making that kind of decision, but they wouldn’t hear of it.

I took down the facts I needed and told them the will would be ready in a few days. I hoped by that time they would reconsider. It didn’t take much to split a family forever.

The other client was a man who wanted to incorporate a small business he owned. He operated a pizza restaurant and was about to start a delivery service. Someone told him incorporation might limit his personal liability if his drivers hit someone. They were right. As I’d done with the couple before him, I took down the information I needed and told him it would take a couple of days.

My secretary had left, so I escorted him to the door. The snow was slowing now, but a few inches covered the ground. It looked pretty, pure white against the dark river.

I went back inside and dialed Sue Gillis at her office. It was her night for dinner. Sometimes she cooked; sometimes we went out. I liked her cooking best, if the choice was mine alone.

I called the familiar number, then swung around and watched the dark river.

“Gillis.”

“It’s me,” I said. “I’m starved.”

“Bad news, Charley. I’m going to be working late tonight.”

“How come?”

“We’ve just been given a murder. A kid. They found the body up on Clarion Road. I’m going over to the medical examiner’s now.”

“Sex crime?”

“They don’t know yet. But I’ve been asked to work along with Homicide, just in case.”

“Shall I wait for you? You have to eat at some point.”

“Don’t wait. This may be an all-nighter. I’ll grab a sandwich someplace.”

“Would you like me to bring you one? I know where the medical examiner’s office is.”

“That’s sweet, Charley, but no. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“You’re not off the hook, Sue. It’s still your turn tomorrow.”

“So much for chivalry,” she said as she hung up.

I turned out the office lights and continued to watch the river. The snow had stopped so that the lights of Canada were visible again. It was a good feeling, just watching, not thinking about anything.

Then my stomach reminded me that I was hungry.

I didn’t want to go to a restaurant solo. Sue had spoiled me. Dining alone, even at a hamburger joint, seemed just too lonely.

I decided that I would go to my apartment, pop in a
frozen dinner, and watch some television. The road was now covered and slippery, so I drove very slowly.

The fried chicken dinner, complete with mashed potatoes and corn, came out of the microwave looking like the illustration on the package and tasting like the cardboard. I ate about half and tossed the rest away.

I fell asleep in front of the television until I was awakened by the insistent ringing of the telephone.

I don’t know what kind of dream I was having but I remember being grateful at being jarred back to consciousness. I glanced at my watch. It was just a few minutes after one o’clock.

I presumed it would be some husband or wife in the midst of a domestic dispute. Reluctantly, I picked up the phone.

“Yes?”

“Charley, it’s Sue. Can I come over?”

“Are you in trouble?”

“No. Nothing like that. I just need to talk. I know it’s late.”

“Never too late to see you. Come on over.”

“I’m really sorry to be a nuisance.” Her voice had a sad, keening tone, the kind of sound she got after a few drinks.

“I can pick you up,” I said.

“No. I’m a block away, calling from a pay phone. I’ll be right there.”

I put on some coffee while I waited.

When she arrived, we kissed. I could smell the gin, but she wasn’t drunk. She held me in a long embrace before letting go. I thought I felt her tremble.

She took the coffee I poured and sat down. “I feel like a fool, Charley, barging in at this hour.”

“You’re not. Bad case, eh?”

“In a way yes, but in a way no.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She sipped the coffee and smiled weakly. “I suppose that’s apparent, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it.”

“A little boy,” she said slowly. “There was identification on him. His name was Lee Higgins, a kid from Hub City. Eight years old. He didn’t come home from school. His parents had called the Hub City police and they had taken a report, but that sort of thing happens often—kids stay at friends’ and forget the time, so no one except the parents really got excited.”

“How was he killed?”

“Asphyxiation. The medical examiner thinks he may have been suffocated with a pillow. There were no marks or bruises. The blood work won’t be back until tomorrow, but the doctor thinks he may have been sedated. There was no sign of a struggle. Just a dead boy, a beautiful boy. He looked like a sleeping angel.”

“Raped?”

“Apparently not. There were no signs of sexual abuse. He was a small little boy. No anal penetration. Nothing to suggest oral contact, although it’s possible.”

“No murder is gentle, but this one sounds relatively shock free. How come it shook you up so?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, honestly. I think it was that he was so beautiful and so young. The parents, of course, were in shock, but they described him as a perfect little kid.”

“How did they find him? I would have thought the snow would have covered him up?”

“A motorist saw him on the side of the road. Whoever dumped him must have done so just minutes before. The motorist stopped and walked all around the body. Other people stopped to see what happened. Tire tracks, footprints, everything is pretty much screwed up, although we’ll get some.”

“There are a lot of crazies out there, Sue.”

She nodded. “This one especially.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The medical examiner says whoever murdered the boy washed the body and the clothes afterwards, then redressed
the dead child. He was wrapped in plastic wrap, the kind you buy at any grocery store.”

“I suppose the killer was counting on the snow to cover up what he had done.”

“Not really. The body was set out there on the roadside as if the killer wanted him found.”

“Well, don’t worry, Sue. The sick ones usually are the first caught.”

“Sometimes.” The word was just a whisper.

“You’ll get this guy, whoever he is.”

She stood up. “Hold me, Charley?”

“Sure.”

We ended up in bed, but not for sex. She fell asleep almost instantly, her arms wrapped tightly about me. Her breathing, at first troubled, became even.

It was the first time since I’d known her that a case had affected her so deeply. I wondered if she was upset because her cop instinct told her this was the beginning of something, and not the end.

She had given me something to think about, too. The name Higgins and Hub City had clicked in my memory. A couple of years ago I’d handled a routine matter for a couple in Hub City named Higgins. Frank Higgins and his wife, Betty. Lying in bed, I remembered it had been a real estate closing; they were buying a big old place right in Hub City. They had kids, of course, enough to make the purchase of an eight-room house reasonably practical. I suspected, and feared, that one of those kids was named Lee.

In the morning Sue went back to her own place to shower and dress. I selected my clothing with more care than usual. I’m of average height and build, but there is something about my body that seems to make my clothes look instantly rumpled. I try to dress to stop this process, but it never really works. Juries, in the main, like well-dressed lawyers. And I had a jury case.

I drove to the courthouse and took the stairs to the
second floor, the floor housing our three circuit judges. It wasn’t a famous case, so the courtroom was nearly deserted. Just a few policemen, the prosecutor, myself, and my client.

The facts were simple. My client, Ernie Barker, had a small roofing company, consisting chiefly of himself and his cousin. They specialized in tarring flat roofs, usually commercial buildings.