Authors: Parnell Hall
"Which one?"
He shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem. They file 'em alphabetically."
I almost said, "They do?" Thank god, I stopped myself. The
image of morticians pulling out drawers, juggling corpses, and
making room for new ones was only slightly ludicrous.
"How do we find him?" I asked.
"We wait for the ME. Gives me a chance to ask you a couple
of questions that are totally off the record. No one here but you
and me."
"You're not wearing a wire?"
"You watch a lot of TV?"
"Probably more than I should."
"Then let me give you a hint. If my best shot at solving this was
talking to you wearing a wire I'd be a pretty bad cop."
"If you're such a good cop, who did it?"
"I have no idea."
"There you are"
He looked at me narrowly. "You're not still pushing the schoolteacher?"
"I'm not pushing anything. I'm just saying if any part of what
MacAullif told you was true, it would be in my better interests to
get the guy put away before he got the idea I could ID him."
"Are you scared?"
"Of a cold-blooded killer so proficient you haven't got a clue?
Why should I be scared?"
"See, that's the other impression you get from the books you
read. The idea that the cops are clueless. We're really not so bad."
"Yeah," I said. "Since this thing happened, the only one you
managed to pick up is me."
"Funny about that."
A young man in a white coat came into the room. I figured he
was a lab assistant, but he turned out to be an ME. I'm really
having this age thing lately.
"Who you after?" he asked Crowley. Funny how he pegged
him for the detective. We were both in plain clothes.
"Victor Marsden," he said.
"Oh, yeah. Gunshot to the head. Now, where'd we put him?"
The ME looked the drawers over, selected one. "Ah, here we
go." He grabbed a handle, pulled it out.
The body slid out just like they do in the movies. Except the
sheet was bloody. I hadn't expected that. Blood had oozed from the
wound in the forehead where they'd dug out the bullet. Of course,
they needed it for evidence to match it up with the gun. Assuming
they ever found it.
It was impossible to see the entry wound. It had been sliced
open, then sewn up with black thread. I suppose they photographed it a zillion times before cutting in.
I gasped, recoiled.
Crowley smiled at my discomfiture. "Is that the man you saw
last night talking with the man you knew as a hitman?"
No, it wasn't.
The man on the slab was the man who'd employed me, the
hitman himself, the one who'd given the name of Martin Kessler,
a schoolteacher from Harmon High.
I 1)11) WHAT THE MORON does in the detective books I read. I
held out on the cops. Instead of telling them everything-the sane,
normal, sensible course of action-I opted for column B: keep
your mouth shut and solve the thing on your own.
Let's not go overboard. I don't think solve-the-thing-on-your-own
came into it. It was just that too many realities had suddenly changed
for me to make a coherent explanation. If I started talking, I'd still be
there. Safely in police custody, but in police custody nonetheless.
Instead, I opted for the short answer. The one that required
fewer explanations.
"Yes," I said.
If that gave the police the wrong impression, I'm sorry. But I'm
not sure exactly what the right impression was just then.
Richard didn't want to hear it. Which seethed unfair, in light of
what happened in the morgue. But he stuck to his guns. "You're
not under arrest."
"No, but I lied to the police."
"No, you didn't," Richard said.
"Yes, I did."
"No, you didn't. What a moron.You didn't lie.You made statements which may turn out to be contrary to known facts."
"What's the difference?"
"Three to five"
"Richard."
"Minimum security. Probably get to play golf."
"Richard, I'm in trouble."
"No shit. I'm trying to keep you from getting me in trouble."
"Don't you want to get me out?"
"Let's see. I have a lucrative law practice that keeps me in the
upper tax brackets. Now, would I want to jeopardize that for a
chance of being disbarred and going to jail?"
"Since when were you afraid of the police?"
"I'm not afraid of the police."
A light went on. "You're afraid of the hitman."
"I thought you said the hitman's dead."
"He is."
"Then I'm not afraid of him."
"But you're avoiding the case."
"Yes, I am. Tell you why.You got involved with people who kill
people.You weren't smart enough to nip it in the bud, and now it's
blown all out of proportion"
"That's how you describe the murder of my client?"
"He's not your client. He's a dead man.You don't work for him
anymore.
"But-"
"You should consider the case closed. Whatever money you've
been paid, apply it to your fee and write the rest off, because you're
not going to see any more."
"What about the murder?"
"What about it? Someone killed your client. That's bad, but the
way I understand it, it's better than the other way around.You were
afraid your client was going to come after you. He isn't. This other
guy doesn't know you, so you're basically out of the picture. You
should throw a party."
"To celebrate the fact my client is dead?"
"He wasn't a nice person."
"He seemed like a nice person. He said he was a schoolteacher."
"So he lied to you. A criminal lied. What a shock! No wonder
it caught you flat-footed"
"So what do I do about the police?"
"There's nothing you can do.You lied to them. All you can do
now is compound your lie, or get caught in it."
"Richard-"
"Neither of which is a very attractive alternative. So I would
advise you to stay away from the police. If I were advising you.
Which I'm not. But, if I were, that's the move I would advise you
to make. There would be no question in my mind. The only question is, will the police stay away from you?"
"Yeah, but ... ?"
"Yeah, but what?"
"Everything's upside down. A hitman wants me to stop him
from killing somebody. I don't, but somebody else does. By killing
him. Isn't that a rather unlikely outcome? Doesn't it leave a lot of
questions unanswered?"
"Yeah, but they're not your questions. They're a matter for the
police."
"I know But ..."
"But what?"
"The guy hired me to stop him from killing someone."
"So?"
"Who was I supposed to stop him from killing?"
I DIDN'T FIND OUT FOR a while because I was off the case. As
Richard pointed out, the death of my client more or less ended
things. Leaving me no work except his.
I broached the Yolanda Smith case to no avail. Richard had
already dropped it. Wondered why I wouldn't let it go.
I wasn't sure myself. I'm not a lawyer. I've never worked for any
other lawyer. I wouldn't know who to refer it to. But it struck me
as a huge injustice, sitting there like a baseball on a batting tee,
waiting for someone to hit a home run.
"It's not just medical malpractice, it's criminal conspiracy. The
porn director is in league with the doctor."
"Oh, that'll be fun to prove. Who do I ask, the obstetrician or
the auteur?
"You ask 'em both."
"Huh?"
"If they know each other. They deny it, and you prove it, it's a
slam dunk after that."
"Oh, is that how it's done? Let me see if I understand this. I
subpoena into court two hostile witnesses. Get 'em to lie on the
stand. Then I subpoena into court some other hostile witnesses to
testify that the first hostile witnesses committed perjury."
"That's unfair."
"What?"
"Calling them hostile witnesses."
"Who?"
"The second ones. The ones testifying the first ones are committing perjury."
"Give me a break. If they know the other two well enough to
know that they are committing perjury, they are friends of theirs.
Which makes them hostile witnesses. However, you raise a good
point. I'll have to prove they're hostile witnesses, which I won't be able
to do. Not as long as they testify civilly and matter-of-factly, which
shouldn't be too hard, as they have no reason to do otherwise."
"You could justify taking this case if you wanted"
"I could justify anything if I wanted. The point is, I don't want.
I should think that's abundantly clear."
"The case you do want. The quadriplegic. Why do you want that?"
"Are you kidding? It's a quadriplegic. It's an injury made in
heaven. It's a lawyer's wet dream."
"The woman's baby died."
Richard shook his head. "Sorry. Quadriplegic trumps dead
baby every time. The dead baby was never a human being with
thoughts, personality, and emotions. He was a nice idea that didn't
happen. This is a human being who will be sitting there in court,
unable to lift a finger in his own defense. And don't think I won't
use that phrase a few times."
"You're not the defense, you're the plaintiff."
"It won't matter. The jurors, if any, will be on his side."
"Why do you say `if any'?"
"They'll be looking to settle the moment we get to court."
"Then you don't need to go over my testimony."
"Nice try. The point is, this is a case I can win. A simple,
straightforward case of a man on whom an egregious injury has
been afflicted"
"Ecrecious," I murmured.
"What?"
"Nothing. That's the word that came to mind when I signed
Yolanda Smith"
"Forget the woman. Concentrate on the man"
I sighed. "What's the case again?"
"You should know.You signed it."
"When?"
"About six months ago"
"It's coming to trial now?"
"The judge fast-tracked it. On account of the injury."
"I remember signing a quad. Columbia-Presbyterian?"
"That's the one. Recall the case?"
"Refresh my memory."
"Client fell on a broken stair in his apartment building. We
assigned you the accident photos the same day. If you'll recall,
Wendy beeped you at the hospital, sent you to take them. Instead
of waiting for a separate photo assignment . .
Richard went on, but I had stopped listening.
A trip-and-fall. That was Richard's egregious case. A trip-andfall. This is what I'd been pulled in for, given a special photo
assignment. This is what I'd have to testify in court. This is what
was important, pressing, couldn't be postponed, no matter what my
obligation, no matter that a man's life was at stake. This was the
case that Richard took, cherished, squandered his talents on.While
the truly wronged Yolanda Smith was wronged yet again.
I made a vow, right then and there, if Richard wouldn't help
that woman, I would.
Somehow, I'd find a way.
"IT'S THE TEACHER," Alice said.
Alice didn't know I was off the case. Well, she did, she just didn't
credit it. As far as Alice was concerned, I was off the case when
Alice said I was off the case. Which was not likely to happen until
it was utterly inconvenient.
"What's the teacher?" I said.
"He's the intended mark."
"How do you figure that?"
"The guy gave you a name. It's not his name. But it's someone's
name. He didn't pull it out of a hat.Why did he give it to you? The
only thing that makes sense is that the teacher is the mark."
"Or the hitman."
"What?"
"The other hitman. The guy I thought the hitman was following. The guy I thought lived there. The guy I thought was
Victor Marsden. What if he's the schoolteacher?"
"Is he?"
"I've never seen the schoolteacher. What if he's our guy?"
"I thought MacAullif checked him out and he's clean."
"I'm not putting a lot of faith in MacAullif's investigation."
Alice smiled. "Just because you're mad at him is no reason to
demean his abilities. MacAullif's a good cop. If he says he's clean,
he's clean."
"He doesn't say he's clean. He just says he doesn't have a record.
A careful criminal wouldn't."
"I thought you were watching the school for the guy to come
out and he didn't."
"Because he was dead."
"But if the other guy had come out, wouldn't you have recognized him?"
"Oh."
"Though I must admit," Alice said judiciously, "your powers of
observation are so poor if the guy was wearing a different jacket it
would probably be enough to throw you off."
"Alice-"
"Your theory now is the hitman was hired to kill the schoolteacher, but the schoolteacher turned the tables and killed him?"
"I admit I don't know all the angles."
"There's an understatement"
"But how could I? I was lied to and kept in the dark. All I
know is the schoolteacher is important and someone is dead. Isn't
he a logical killer?"
"What do the police think?"
"Oh"
"The police don't know what to think because you didn't level
with them. If they knew the man you were dealing with was dead,
they'd treat the whole matter differently."
"If they knew the man I was dealing with was dead, I'd probably be in jail."
"That's a rather negative way to look at it"
"Alice."
"It's one thing to lie to the cops. It's something else to lie to
MacAullif."
"I didn't lie to MacAullif."
"Right. You haven't talked to hint because you're mad at him.
How long you gonna keep that up?"
We were sitting in the bedroom not watching House, the medical show about the sarcastic doctor. Alice and I like House, so
there's a limit as to how long we can not watch it. That limit is
right around fifteen minutes. We have a DVR, the wonderful digital recording system that allows you to pause live TV and start
watching a program you're recording at any time. So Alice and I
never watch a show when it goes on, we wait at least fifteen minutes so we can zoom through the commercials.