The Simple Truth (20 page)

“Unless that clerk told someone.”

Perkins shook his head.
“I personally run them through the drill on security and confidentiality as part of their orientation. The ethical rules which apply to them are very stringent. They’re even provided with a handbook on the subject. No leaks are permitted.”

Chandler looked unconvinced.
“What’s the average age of the clerks here? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?”

“Something like that.”

“They’re kids, working at the highest court in the land. You telling me that it’s impossible that they might let something slip? Not even to impress a date?”

“I’ve been around long enough to know better than to use the word
impossible
to ever describe anything.”

“I’m a homicide detective, Mr. Perkins, and believe you me, I got the same damn problem.”

“Could we back up to square one here?”
Dellasandro said.
“From what I know about the case, it seemed that robbery was the motive.”
He spread his hands and looked expectantly at Chandler.
“How does that involve the Court? Have you searched his apartment yet?”

“Not yet. I’m sending a team over tomorrow.”

“How do we know it’s not something connected to his personal life?”
Dellasandro asked.

Everyone looked at Chandler for an answer. The detective glanced down at his notes without really focusing on them.
“I’m just covering all the bases. Going to a homicide victim’s place of work and asking questions is not even remotely unusual, gentlemen.”

“Certainly,”
Perkins said.
“You can count on our full cooperation.”

“Now why don’t we have a look at Mr. Fiske’s office,”
Chandler said.

The man glided cat-smooth down the corridor. He was six-foot-three, lean but strongly built, with wide shoulders fanning out from a thick neck. He had a long and narrow face; the skin chestnut brown and smooth, except for deep tracings of lines at the eyes and mouth, like the whorls of a fingerprint. He wore a crumpled Virginia Tech baseball cap. A short-haired black and gray beard outlined his jaw. He was dressed in worn jeans and a faded, sweat-stained denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off a pair of thick, veiny forearms. A pack of Pall Malls poked out of the shirt’s front pocket. He approached the end of the hallway and rounded the corner. As soon as he did so, the soldier sitting next to the doorway of the last room on the hall rose and held up a hand.

“Sorry, sir, this area is off limits to everyone except necessary medical personnel.”

“My brother’s in there,”
Joshua Harms said.
“And I’m going to see him.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

Harms eyed the soldier’s name tag.
“I’m afraid it ain’t, Private Brown. I visit him at the prison all the time. Now you let me in there, you hear me?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, then I’m gonna go round up the head of this hospital and the local police and the damn commandant over at Fort Jackson and tell ’em you refused to allow a family member to visit a dying relative. Then they’ll all take turns kicking your butt on down the road, soldier boy. Did I mention I spent three years in Vietnam and got me enough medals to cover your whole damn body? Now you gonna let me in or we gonna have to go down that other street? I want your answer and I want it right this damned minute.”

An unnerved Brown looked around for a minute, unsure of what to do.
“I need to call somebody.”

“No, you don’t. You can search me, but I’m going on in there. Won’t be long. But it’s gonna be right now.”

“What’s your name?”

“Josh Harms.”
He pulled out his wallet.
“Here’s my driver’s license. I been over the prison a lot over the years, but I don’t recall ever seeing you.”

“I don’t work at the prison,”
he said.
“I’m on temporary assignment here. I’m in the reserves.”

“The reserves? Pulling guard duty on a prisoner?”

“The correctional facility specialists who flew in with your brother went back yesterday. They’re bringing in some replacements tomorrow morning.”

“Hallelujah for them. Now, we ready to get this done?”

Private Brown stared at him for another few seconds.
“Turn around,”
he said finally.

Josh did so. Brown started to pat him down. Right before he reached his front pants pocket, Josh said,
“Don’t get excited, but there’s a pocketknife in there. Just pull it out and hold it for me. You hold it good and tight, son, I’m right partial to that knife.”

Private Brown finished the pat-down and straightened.
“You got ten minutes, and that’s it. And I’m going in with you.”

“You go in with me, then you’re deserting your post. You desert your post in the Army or the reserves and you gonna end up where my brother is.”
He looked at the man’s youthful features. A wannabe weekend warrior, he concluded. Probably pushed a pencil Monday through Friday before slipping on his fatigues and gun looking for adventure.
“And let me tell you, prison ain’t where somebody looks like you wants to be.”

Private Brown swallowed nervously.
“Ten minutes.”

The two men locked eyes.
“Thank you kindly,”
Josh Harms said, not meaning one word of it.

He entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“Rufus,”
he said quietly.

“Didn’t think you were gonna get here so quick, brother.”

Josh went over to the side of the bed and stared down at him.
“What in the hell happened to you?”

“Ain’t sure you want to know.”

“It’s all about that damn letter you got, ain’t it?”
Josh pulled a chair over next to the bed.

“How long the guard give you?”

“Ten minutes, but I ain’t worried about him.”

“Ten minutes ain’t going to be long enough to tell you much. But I’ll tell you this. I go back to Fort Jackson and they’re gonna kill me soon as I step inside.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Rufus shook his head.
“I tell you, then they gonna just come after you.”

“I’m in here with you, ain’t I? That baby soldier out there is stupid, but he ain’t that stupid. He’s gonna put me down on the visitors’roster. You know that.”

Rufus swallowed with difficulty.
“I know, probably never should’ve got you to come on down here.”

“I’m here now. So start talking.”

Rufus thought about it for a minute.
“Look, Josh, that letter from the Army, when I got it, I remembered everything that happened that night. I mean everything. It was like somebody shot it right into my head.”

“You talking about the girl?”

Rufus was already nodding.
“Everything. I know why I did it. And the fact is, it wasn’t my fault.”

His brother looked at him skeptically.
“Come on, now, Rufus, you did kill that little girl. No way around that.”

“Killing and meaning to kill’s two different things. Anyway, I got my lawyer from back then — ”

“You mean your piss-poor excuse for a lawyer.”

“You read the letter?”

“Sure I did. Came to my house, didn’t it? Guess that was the last civilian address the Army had for you. Big, dumb carcass, didn’t know it had you smack in one of its own damn prisons.”

“Well, I got Rider to file something for me. In court.”

“What’d he file?”

“A letter I wrote.”

“Letter? How’d you get it out?”

“Same way you got the letter from the Army in.”

Both men smiled.

Rufus said,
“They got a printing operation inside the prison. The machinery’s hot and dirty, so the guards give you a little space. Let me work my magic.”

“So you think the Court’s gonna look at your case? I wouldn’t bet my life on it, little brother.”

“Don’t look like the Court’s gonna do nothing.”

“Well, gee, that’s a big-ass surprise.”

Rufus looked past his brother at the door.
“When the guards coming back from the prison?”

“Boy said tomorrow morning.”

“Well, that means I got to get out of here tonight.”

“Woman who called me said you had some kind of heart problem. Look at you, all strapped to this crap. How far you think you can run?”

“How far you think I can run dead?”

“You really think they gonna try and kill you?”

“They don’t want this to come out. You said you read the letter from the Army.”

“Yep.”

“Well, I was never in the program they said I was.”

Josh eyed him hard.
“How you mean?”

“Just what I said. Somebody put me in the records. They wanted me to look like I was in it, to cover up what they did to me. Why I killed that little girl. In case somebody checked, I reckon they had to do it. They thought I was going to be dead.”

Josh took this in slowly until the truth hit him.
“Jesus Lord Almighty. Why would they do that shit to you?”

“You asking me that? They hated me. Thought I was the biggest screw-up in the world. Wanted me dead.”

“If I had known all that was happening, I sure as hell would’ve come back and kicked some butt.”

“You were busy trying to keep the VC from tearing you up. But I go back to prison now, they gonna make sure they get me this time.”

Josh looked at the door and then down at his brother’s restraints.

“I need your help to do this, Josh.”

“You’re damn right you do, Rufus.”

“You ain’t gotta help me. You can turn and walk straight out of here. I still love you. You stood by me all these years. What I’m asking ain’t fair, I know that. You worked hard, you got yourself a good life. I’d understand.”

“Then you don’t know your brother.”

Rufus slowly reached out and took his brother’s hand. They gripped each other tightly, as though trying to give strength and resolve to one another for what lay ahead.

“Anybody see you come in?”

“Nobody except the guard. I didn’t exactly come in the front door.”

“Then I can pretend to knock you out, get out of here on my own. They know I’m a crazy SOB. Kill my own brother and never think twice about it.”

“Bullshit. That dog just won’t hunt, Rufus. You wouldn’t even know where the hell to go. They’d catch your butt in ten minutes. I worked on repairs at this hospital for almost two years, know it like the back of my hand. Way I came in is supposed to be locked, only the nurses taped over the lock. They sneak their smokes out there.”

“How you wanta work it, then?”

“We just go back out the way I came in. It’s right down the hall on the left. Don’t pass no nurses’station or nothing. My truck’s right outside the door. I got a buddy thirty minutes from here. He owes me a favor. I’ll leave my truck in one of his old barns and borrow his rig for a while. He won’t ask no questions and he won’t answer any if the police come along. We hit the road and don’t look back.”

“You sure you want to do this? How about your kids?”

“They all gone. Don’t see ’em much.”

“What about Louise?”

Josh looked down for a moment.
“Louise walked out the door five years ago and I ain’t seen her since.”

“You never told me that!”

“What you gonna do about it if I had?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m damn sorry about a lot of things. I ain’t the easiest person to live with. Can’t say I blame any of them.”
Josh shrugged his shoulders.
“So it’s just the two of us again. Make Momma happy if she was alive.”

“You sure?”

“Don’t ask me that again, Rufus.”

Rufus raised his manacled hands.
“What about these?”

His brother was already sliding something out of his boot. When he straightened back up he was holding a slender piece of metal with a slight hook at one end.

“Don’t tell me that boy didn’t search you?”

“Shit, like he knew where to look. Once he took my pocketknife, he figured he had all my
dangerous
weapons. Didn’t even bother to do my boots.”
Josh grinned and then inserted the metal in the lock on the restraints.

“You think you can pick it?”

Josh stopped and looked at his brother with contempt.
“If I can escape from the damn Viet Cong, I can sure as hell pick an Army-issued pair of handcuffs.”

*    *    *

Out in the hallway, Private Brown looked at his watch. The ten minutes were up. He cracked open the door to the room.
“All right, Harms, time’s up.”
He pushed the door open farther.
“Mr. Harms? Did you hear me? Time’s up.”

Brown heard a small groan. He drew his pistol and pushed the door all the way open.
“What’s going on in here?”

The groaning became louder. Brown looked around for the light switch. That’s when he stumbled over something. He knelt down and touched the man’s face as his vision focused.

“Mr. Harms? Mr. Harms, you okay?”

Josh opened his eyes.
“I’m fine. How ’bout you?”

Then a big hand clamped down on Brown’s gun and stripped it clean away. The other hand went around his mouth and he was lifted completely off the floor, one massive fist colliding with his jaw and knocking him out.

Rufus put Brown in the bed, covering him with the sheet. Josh put the restraints around the unconscious soldier’s arms and legs and locked them up tight. Then he used adhesive tape and gauze he found in one of the cabinets to tape his mouth shut. The last thing he did was search the soldier and retrieve his pocketknife.

As Josh turned toward him, Rufus wrapped his arms around his brother and squeezed tight. Josh returned the hug, the first time the men had been able to do this in twenty-five years. His eyes moist, Rufus shook a little as Josh finally pulled away.