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"Not while I was there. But I only walked the dog for another three or four minutes."
"So the car could have returned after that and you wouldn't know it?"
Clement nods. "That's correct."
Informationally, I have no reason to even question Clement, since everything he has to say has been said. I just need to spend a little time putting a more favorable spin on it for our side. Laurie has questioned him extensively, so I have some information at my disposal.
"Mr. Clement, when you were out walking, did you have a cell phone with you?"
"Yes. I always carry one."
"When you heard these men arguing, did you call the police, fearing violence was about to break out?"
"No."
"Did you try to intervene yourself? Try to prevent anyone from getting hurt?"
"No."
"Did you quickly leave the area so that you and your dog wouldn't be injured?"
"No."
"So it was not an argument that was unusually loud or volatile? Not one where you were worried that someone could be badly hurt? Because if it were that bad, I a.s.sume you would have taken one of the actions I just mentioned. Isn't that right?"
"I guess... I mean, they were just yelling. It wasn't that big a deal."
Having made the point, I ask him how fast the car was driving when it pulled away, since Clement had referred to the speed as being higher than normal.
"I would say about forty miles an hour," Clement says. "It's a residential neighborhood, so that's pretty fast."
I put up a map of the neighborhood and get Clement to explain that he walked home in the same direction that the car pulled away. That adds a few minutes to the time he would have had to see the car if it returned. It's a small point, but it works against the image of an outraged Kenny storming back after the argument and killing Preston.
Court ends for the day at noon, giving two jurors time to attend to personal business, probably doctor's appointments. I can certainly use the time, and I call Pete Stanton and ask for a quick favor. He knows he owes me big-time for the ridiculous birthday party, so he readily agrees.
One of the names on the list of mysterious deaths was a drowning in the ocean in Asbury Park, a Jersey beach resort about an hour south of Paterson. I know that Pete has a number of connections with the police department down there, and on my behalf he calls one of them to arrange for me to be able to talk to the officer most familiar with the young man's death.
I don't hit much traffic going down there, since it's a weekday and not during rush hour. Arriving in Asbury Park provides a bit of a jolt; I spent a good deal of my youthful weekends down here, and the city hasn't held up very well. The buildings have eroded considerably faster than my memories.
Sergeant Stan Collins is there to meet me when I arrive at the precinct house. He didn't speak to Pete directly, but he knows what I'm there to learn and suggests that we drive to the scene of the drowning.
Within ten minutes we're near the edge of Asbury Park, and the ocean seems rougher than it did when I drove in. Collins says that this is common and has something to do with the rock formation.
He points out where Darryl Anderson died on a September day six years ago. "There was a hurricane warning, or a watch," he says. "I can never remember which is which."
"I think the warning is worse," I say.
He nods. "Whatever. A bunch of local teenagers weren't too worried about it, and they decided it would be really cool to ride the waves in the middle of the storm."
"Anderson was one of the teenagers?" I ask.
"Nope. I think he was twenty or twenty-one. His brother was one of the kids out in the water. Anderson heard about it from his mother, who was upset and asked him to make sure the kid was okay."
Collins shakes his head at the memory and continues. "The undertow was unbelievable, and Anderson started yelling at the kids to get out of the water. He was a big, scary guy, a football player, so they did. Except one kid, a fourteen-year-old, couldn't make it. The current was pulling him out."
"So Anderson went in after him?"
He nods. "Yeah. Got to him and grabbed him but couldn't make it back. Their bodies were never found."
"Is there any way," I ask, "any way at all, that he could have been murdered?"
His head shake is firm. "No way. There were twenty witnesses to what happened, including me, although I got here for the very end of it. Everybody who saw it said the same thing. It was preventable... those kids should never have been in the water... but there is absolutely no way it was murder."
It's a sad story, but one that has the secondary effect of cheering me up. Kenny obviously had nothing to do with this death, and if I can find that to be true of most of the others as well, then coincidence will actually have reared its improbable head.
When I get back home, an obviously distressed Laurie comes out to meet me at the car. I hadn't told her where I was going, and she was panicked at the possibility that Quintana had gotten to me and dumped my body in the Pa.s.saic River.
"I'm sorry I upset you," I lie, since I'm thrilled that she's upset. "I had to leave in a hurry."
"You had a cell phone, Andy. You could have called me."
She's right, I could have called her, and I'm not sure why I didn't. It's not like me. I didn't consciously think about it, but was my subconscious trying to worry her? Or am I subtly separating from her, so as to prepare myself and lessen the devastation when and if she leaves?
"I should have."
She lets it drop, and I update her on what I learned. She is relieved, as I am, but points out that it's not proof that Kenny wasn't involved with any of the other deaths. She suggests that it's time that I speak to Kenny about it, and I make plans to do so before court tomorrow.
Laurie and I had planned to go to Charlie's for dinner tonight, but she doesn't want to leave the house. She wants to make a quick dinner and get into bed. With that as the ultimate goal, there is no such thing as a dinner quick enough. But I inhale some kind of a sandwich, and Laurie and I are in bed by nine o'clock.
Our lovemaking tonight is more intense than usual, and Laurie is one hundred percent responsible for that. I think that she was really shaken and worried about me today, and this is how it is manifesting itself. Of course, the next time I successfully read a woman's mind will be the first, so I stop trying to figure it out and simply go with the flow.
It turns out to be one of the best flows I've ever gone with.
I WAKE UP WITH WAKE UP WITH that awful feeling of remembrance about Adam. I know these feelings will be with me for a long time, because I still have them about Sam's a.s.sistant, Barry Leiter, and he died almost two years ago. I'm going to have to start allocating scheduled time for my various guilt issues so I don't get them confused. that awful feeling of remembrance about Adam. I know these feelings will be with me for a long time, because I still have them about Sam's a.s.sistant, Barry Leiter, and he died almost two years ago. I'm going to have to start allocating scheduled time for my various guilt issues so I don't get them confused.
I arrive at court an hour early for my scheduled meeting with Kenny about the information Adam was developing. I bring Kevin with me, not for him to partic.i.p.ate, but to have an independent opinion on Kenny's reaction to my questions.
Kenny seems surprised and a little concerned when he's brought in for the meeting, since the unusual nature of it makes him think that something has come up.
I get right to the point, reading him the names of the eight young men who have died. When I'm finished, I ask, "Do those names mean anything to you?"
Kenny thinks for a moment, then says, "Well, Matt Lane is the guy who died in the hunting accident that we talked about. And Tony George played for Penn State, a linebacker. I don't know where he is. And I think Mike Rafferty played out West somewhere; I met him a long time ago. I think I heard something happened to him. Are these guys all football players?"
"They were," I say. "Now they're all dead."
If the look of surprise on Kenny's face is an act, it's a d.a.m.n good one. "What do you mean, they're all dead? What happened to them?"
"Various things... you don't know anything about it?"
The awareness starts to dawn on Kenny that we might be tying this to him. He stands up. "Hey, wait a minute! Are you saying I killed them? Are you out of your f.u.c.king minds?"
He's yelling so loud that I'm afraid the guards outside the door will hear him and come rus.h.i.+ng in. "No, Kenny, that's not what I'm saying. But you can be sure that's what the prosecution will be saying if they find out."
"Find out what? Except for Matt, I don't even know where these guys live. How could I have killed them?"
"Okay," I say. "You've told me what I need to know."
He is far from calmed down. "Jesus Christ," he says, "I thought you were on my side."
We talk for a brief while longer, then Kevin and I leave for some last-minute preparation for today's witnesses. Kenny still seems upset, but he'll just have to deal with it.
Once we're out of earshot of Kenny, I ask Kevin what he thinks. "He obviously got upset," Kevin says, "but that could be because he's innocent or or guilty. I'd vote for innocent; he really seemed confused before you told him what you were talking about." guilty. I'd vote for innocent; he really seemed confused before you told him what you were talking about."
That's my feeling as well, but like Kevin, I'm well aware that I could be wrong.
As Judge Harrison is about to come into court, I go to turn my cell phone off. It's something I do every day, to save myself the embarra.s.sment of his confiscating it if it should ring during the court session. I see that there is a text message on the phone from Sam, asking me to call him and identifying it as "important." The cell phone probably didn't get reception in the anteroom where I met with Kenny.
I'm worried about what Sam might have discovered, but I have no time to call him now. I also have to switch my mental focus to Dylan's first witness, Captain Dessens. As the lead investigator and arresting officer, Dylan will use him to sum up his case.
In truth, Dessens has little to add to the facts of the case. The jury has already heard about the blood evidence, Kenny's actions the day of the arrest at his house, and the discovery of Preston's body in the closet. Those are the main facts, and all Dessens does is repeat and embellish them. It is almost as if Dessens is giving Dylan's closing argument for him.
Dylan is painstaking in his questioning, and he doesn't turn the witness over to me until almost noon. Harrison decides to take the lunch break before I cross Dessens, and as soon as I can get to where I can talk privately, I call Sam.
"What have you got, Sam?" I ask.
"Nothing good. I've got Schilling within seventy-five miles of six of the eight deaths at the time they happened. I've cleared him on one, and I'm still working on the eighth."
"s.h.i.+t," I say, once again displaying my characteristic rhetorical flourish.
"Andy, these deaths took place all over the country. The odds against Kenny being in each of these places at those particular times are astronomical. Beyond coincidence. Way beyond."
"I know," I say, because I do know, and there's nothing to be gained by my first choice, which would be to remain in denial. I make arrangements to see Sam after court is over, and go to find Kevin. His reaction is the same as Sam's, and we agree to figure out tonight just how we are going to deal with this.
Dessens gets back on the stand, no doubt prepped by Dylan for a full-blown cross-examination covering everything. He's not going to get it; I've made whatever points I've had to make with previous witnesses. Instead, I'm going to use this cross to start presenting the defense's case.
"Captain Dessens, you testified that Mr. Schilling became the focus of your investigation early on. I believe you said that within twelve hours he was your prime suspect."
He nods. "That's correct."
"Who were your less-than-prime suspects?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Let me try to be even clearer. Who were on your list of suspects; who were the people you crossed off that list when you decided Mr. Schilling was your man?"
"There were no specific names; it was early in the process, and we hadn't had a chance to go deep into our investigation."
"So Mr. Schilling was your only only suspect as well as your suspect as well as your prime prime one?" one?"
"Yes."
"Generally, in a murder investigation, when the prime suspect doesn't jump out at you so fast, is it fair to say you have a large list of suspects and then you pare them down?"
"Generally, but every case is different."
"But you never prepared such a list for this case? You stopped looking after Mr. Schilling was arrested?"
He shakes his head. "We continued our thorough investigation, but we had our man."
"Did your 'thorough' investigation uncover the fact that the victim was dealing drugs?"
Dylan jumps out of his chair to object that this is not within the scope of his direct examination, but I argue that it is, since Dylan had Dessens talking about his investigation. Harrison agrees with me and allows Dessens to answer.
"We had indications of that, yes. Nothing that has been proven."
"In the same way that Mr. Schilling's guilt in this case hasn't been proven, since the jury has not yet returned a verdict?"
Dylan objects that this is argumentative, and Harrison sustains.
I push on. "Did you learn where Mr. Preston got the drugs he was selling?" I ask.
"Not with enough certainty that I can name anyone here today."
I nod. "Fair enough. I'll name some people, and you tell me if they were possible drug suppliers to Mr. Preston. Here goes... Albert Schweitzer? Pope John Paul? The queen of England?"
Dylan objects again, calling my questions "frivolous," which is not exactly a news event. Again Harrison sustains.
"Captain Dessens," I ask, "is it your experience that drug suppliers are dangerous people, who often employ other dangerous people?"
He agrees to that but little else. I let him off the stand having basically made my point: Troy Preston a.s.sociated with people who seem a lot more credible in the role of killer than does Kenny Schilling.
As Dylan rests the prosecution's case, I believe I have a slight but real chance of convincing the jury that Kenny doesn't fit the bill as the killer of Troy Preston.
That's because they don't know what I know.
SAM LAYS OUT THE information he has learned in a straightforward, serious way. He doesn't even song-talk, such is his understanding of the implications of this material. Sam is a numbers guy, and he understands the laws of probability. These facts do not obey those laws. information he has learned in a straightforward, serious way. He doesn't even song-talk, such is his understanding of the implications of this material. Sam is a numbers guy, and he understands the laws of probability. These facts do not obey those laws.
The question is what to do now. I do not see how we can ever bring any of this before Judge Harrison. If we determine the best, that Kenny has no culpability, then that is the end of it. If we determine the worst, that Kenny has committed a series of bizarre murders, we are prohibited from revealing it. Anything in between, if there can be anything in between, would likewise be privileged.
All this work we are doing is essentially to satisfy our own curiosity, and our energies could be better spent in helping defend our client against the charge he faces, not what he might have done besides that. The only legally ethical justification for our actions is to claim that we are preparing for the remote possibility that Dylan will learn what we are learning, and we will have to defend against his use of that knowledge against Kenny. Having said that, I certainly won't be charging Kenny for any of the hours we spend on this end of the investigation.
I ask Laurie to devote herself full-time to learning about these mysterious deaths. I want her to investigate each one individually, much as I did Darryl Anderson's drowning in the ocean off Asbury Park. Maybe she can clear each case as definitely not a murder, but I doubt it.
Marcus is going to continue to guard me, since our concerns about Quintana are absolutely real. Quintana may not have killed Preston, but he's already sent people after me, and Adam's fate is testimony to his ruthlessness. This is a bad guy, whether our courtroom claims of his involvement in the Preston murder are true or not.