‘‘I just can’t accept that.’’
‘‘It’s not up to you to accept it or not accept it. It’s up to you to defend him like hell. And if he gets off, he gets off.’’
‘‘I won’t be used like that,’’ Nina said stubbornly. ‘‘Unwittingly.’’
‘‘Aha! It’s the unwitting part you object to. Look, if you can’t stand the ethical dilemma, unload him,’’ Artie said. ‘‘But I warn you, it’ll come up again and again. Most of your clients are gonna be guilty.’’
‘‘I know that! It’s this particular case, this situation—’’
‘‘So—unload him.’’
‘‘But—he depends on me. He thinks we have a great relationship. He’s got a lot of issues with abandonment. I think it would cause him harm, and that’s not ethical, either.’’
‘‘Is this some kind of male-female thing, Nina?’’ Artie said, his keen if somewhat bloodshot eyes boring into her. ‘‘Something between you two?’’
‘‘No. But he—he relies on me. He begs me not to desert him like his wife did, and his father.’’
‘‘Sounds like a master manipulator to me,’’ said Artie.
‘‘I don’t know if he is, or if he’s utterly sincere,’’ Nina said. ‘‘God, Artie, don’t give me any more. And put the bottle away, or we’ll both get pulled over on the way home.’’ While Artie was doing that, she watched his bowed back and the two tufts of white hair around his hard-headed skull, and she had an idea.
‘‘Artie?’’
‘‘Uh huh.’’
‘‘Would you work with me on the Strong case?’’ That made him turn around, hitch up his pants, and give her a good look. ‘‘You’ve been having a good time defending purse snatchers and drunk drivers and kleptomaniacs during the three months you’ve been here. I’ve watched you in court. You’re fiendish. You’re so good, you don’t even have to think.’’
‘‘I’m retired. I’m just fooling around, keeping my hand in. It’s my gambling money. Keeps my wife happy since I’m not home bothering her all day.’’
‘‘Bull. You’re as good as ever, and you must be bored.’’
Artie adjusted his glasses and said, ‘‘Boredom can be quite entertaining if it’s a new experience. I’ve been in the game a long time, Nina, and I’m happy to get out of the stormy sea and just dabble my fingers in it from the safety of my dock.’’
‘‘Are you going to tell me you can resist my offer? Think of it. Murder One, Artie. Prominent family. Lots of media exposure. That will bring in more clients, if you want them. And you know, he just may be innocent.’’
‘‘Too much work.’’
‘‘Please . . . I’d really appreciate it.’’
‘‘Stop batting your eyelashes at me, young lady. You’re too attractive for your own good.’’
‘‘Please?’’
‘‘You do all the paperwork,’’ Artie said. ‘‘I’ll only do court work.’’
‘‘Deal.’’
‘‘My knees are bad. I complain a lot, and take long lunches. I don’t hear out of my left ear. I’m sixty-four years old.’’
‘‘In your prime.’’
‘‘Apparently not too old to be twisted around your dainty finger.’’
‘‘Thank God.’’
They shook hands, and Nina went home to Bob.
Who had packed up his baseball cards. And a bunch of Chinese movies. And his precious stuffed animal, the purple dragon that still went with him everywhere. But no clothes yet, although he was leaving in two days.
And he hadn’t made a fire, but the heat blasting through the vents gave the cabin the fierce climate of midsummer Texas. ‘‘Did you put dinner in the oven?’’ she asked, throwing off her coat and leaping out of Hitchcock’s way. At least the dog was enthusiastic about her return, wagging his tail, his entire body wagging in fact.
Bob, on the other hand, sprawled insensate in his blue beanbag, eyes fused to the new laptop on which VCD star Chow Yun-Fat, God of Gamblers, was blowing away a few dozen Hong Kong triad members with an infinite-shot Magnum.
‘‘Are you a good boy? A fine fellow? Yes, you are,’’ she crooned, letting Hitchcock jump up and put his paws on her shoulders. The dog gave it up, tail, back, ears, furry chest, his jaws open in a toothy grimace, while Bob basked in his electronic ecstasy, impervious to ordinary human contact.
‘‘Bob! Well? Did you?’’
A stir at this disruption. One eye cocked her way, like the eye of the tyrannosaurus in Jurassic Park. ‘‘Of course I did. You asked me to, didn’t you? You never remember the good stuff I do. Remember this video?’’
‘‘We watched it last night. How could I forget?’’
‘‘The good part’s next. Want to watch it with me?’’
‘‘No thanks. I’ll go check the oven.’’ The oily breaded fish sticks, slightly blackened, lay in perfect rows, an aesthetic universe apart from actual fresh fish, just the way Bob liked them. She pulled a prepackaged salad mix from the fridge and poured some nonfat dressing on it. Finding a slightly shriveling lemon in the refrigerator drawer, she cut it into wedges, placing it neatly on a plate in the middle of the table. ‘‘Bob, wash your hands,’’ she called, and dished everything up, the fish and the salad and some sliced apple. And all, as Sandy would say.
They ate at the dining room table. Nina felt that was important for family life. However, the laptop, unconcerned with family values, had also made its way to the table. Chow Yun-Fat seemed no longer to recognize his spunky sidekick. It was no wonder, since Chow had suffered brain damage in an accident and had capered through the entire movie with a mental age of about five and a half. The sidekick crept off, sad and unappreciated.
‘‘Eat some of that salad. Man does not live on grease alone. When you’re in Germany, I want you to eat a piece of fruit, a banana or something, every day. Now where’s the to-do list? Okay, tonight we do laundry and sew up your green sweatshirt.’’ Chow suddenly recovered his brains and remembered everything after all. He surprised his buddy and promoted him from sidekick to partner. The God of Gamblers was back! Chow and his happy posse headed out for another night of gunplay and mah-jongg.
The End.
‘‘Aw,’’ Nina said. ‘‘I liked him better when he was brain-damaged.’’
‘‘You don’t have to be sarcastic, Mom. You’re not in court anymore.’’
‘‘Now turn that thing off. Let’s get to work.’’
The moment came. Bob boarded an American Airlines flight at the airport in Reno at seven-thirty P.M. on Sunday night.
‘‘Call me as soon as you get in.’’
‘‘I know, I know.’’
‘‘Call me at the airport in Denver if you have any trouble at all.’’
‘‘I can handle it.’’
Her brave face was crumbling. ‘‘If Kurt isn’t at the gate in Frankfurt . . .’’
‘‘I remember.’’
‘‘Love you.’’
‘‘Love you, too. See ya, Mom.’’ He shouldered the backpack and went through the door. She watched it, waiting for him to come back out and tell her he was just a frightened boy who couldn’t go through with it, but soon the door was locked.
Through the cloudy window, she saw his plane taxiing down the icy runway outside, taking with it his childhood, while she remained behind, still puzzled at how it could have slipped by her and gotten away.
‘‘You’re a good lawyer,’’ Henry McFarland, the D.A., said. ‘‘We’ve known each other for a long time, and I’ve always respected you, Collier. But this is a fuckup of major proportions. The investigation, the missing wife, Clauson and his report . . . How is he?’’
‘‘Paralyzed on his right side. I don’t think he’ll be back,’’ Collier said. They were eating lunch on a busy Monday at Henry’s desk in his big new office in the corner, where the best windows were.
McFarland looked sorry to hear that. He probably was sorry, but you never could tell, because he was such
a good actor. He’d been a drama major at UC Davis before going into law, and it got him great reviews with the juries. His real expression, on the few occasions when he was caught unaware, was inert but watchful, like a lizard waiting for a fly to drop by. ‘‘That was a bad break, but even so, it was too early for an arrest. You let yourself get pushed into a prelim you couldn’t handle.’’
‘‘You’re probably right.’’ No use making excuses, Collier thought to himself. There weren’t any. He was there to take his medicine, and the new D.A. was playing doctor today.
The previous year, just before his breakdown, Collier had been running against Henry for the office Henry occupied now. They had both been deputies, but Collier had the seniority and the reputation, and nobody had been more surprised than Henry when Collier dropped out of the race, leaving it to him.
Henry was doing an okay job dealing with the board of supervisors, shuffling the work reasonably fairly. There shouldn’t be any hard feelings, but there was an awkwardness between them, and maybe some paranoia on Henry’s part. Henry was younger by a few years, and less experienced. That stung, now that he was the boss.
Henry had okayed Collier’s return from his leave of absence. There were administrative reasons for that, most urgent among them the fact that the office was chronically short-staffed and Collier’s return from leave didn’t count as a new hire. Collier knew the ground under him was earthquake prone.
Henry said, ‘‘Look at this news article in the Sacramento paper. They’re making comparisons to the investigation in the Jon-Benet Ramsey case. It’s affecting my reputation, and the office’s reputation. First we say it’s an accident. Then we arrest the brother and call it a murder. Then the whole thing dissolves into chaos. Get me?’’
A nod. Yeah, he got that he was in deep shit.
‘‘And . . .’’
‘‘And?’’
‘‘Barb says you’re seeing the defense attorney. She didn’t tattle, it just came out while we were talking about something else at lunch.’’
‘‘I’m not throwing the case so she’ll sleep with me, Henry,’’ Collier said. ‘‘Just in case you’d be stupid enough to think that.’’
‘‘No, ’cuz you’re already sleeping with her. That’s the word. Is it true?’’
‘‘She and I—we don’t talk about work. We’re professionals. It’s a small town, and you meet who you meet. I mean, I seem to recall you having a flaming thing with the wife of a witness in that triple murder last year—’’
‘‘That’s none of your goddamn business!’’ Henry’s fist hit the desk.
‘‘Exactly,’’ Collier said. He finished his sandwich and drank some of his Coke while Henry collected himself.
In a softer voice, Henry said, ‘‘I’m getting the feeling that you’re not ready to come back, Collier. You’ve changed. I was depending on you. You said you were ready to charge him.’’
‘‘I can handle this, Henry,’’ Collier said calmly. ‘‘And it’s not over yet.’’
‘‘We only get one more prelim. If Flaherty doesn’t bind him over next time, we may be done. Now here’s the big question. Should we drop it right now, before the fallout gets any worse? I mean, are we gonna win a second prelim? ’Cuz if we don’t win, it’s gonna hurt, Collier. It’s gonna hurt me, and I’m going to pass the hurt along.’’
‘‘I hear you, Henry, and I assure you, you can count on me to make it stick, if we go that far. I’ll let you know whether I think we should go forward in a few days.’’
‘‘If we go forward, you have to have the evidence, get me?’’
‘‘Of course.’’
‘‘I want you to review what you have with Barb before you go ahead. I’d sit with you myself, but I’m tied up from here to kingdom come with the casino bomb threat case. Don’t blow it next time, I mean that.’’
‘‘Okay.’’
‘‘Okay.’’ They got up, avoiding each others’ eyes.
Sean Voorhies was waiting in the office. Sean said, ‘‘You all finished getting reamed? The secretary told me.’’
‘‘Hey, Sean. You find the girl?’’
‘‘Not Heidi. But I talked to the little sister, Kelly Strong.’’
Collier dropped into his chair. He could tell by the bright eyes and nervous hands and loud puffing, Sean was excited. He seemed to have run all the way in from the parking lot.
‘‘Ready?’’ he said.
‘‘Go for it.’’
‘‘Kelly’s twenty-five. She’s a student at the University of Nevada. Level-headed girl, though it was a bitch getting her talking. Also, she wouldn’t even let me in. We had to stand there in the doorway. Turns out her father’s inside.’’
‘‘Philip Strong?’’
‘‘She says he’s not doing so good. Mourning and all that. That was frustrating. I tried everything to get in and I tried to talk to him, but she held her ground. Said he’s under a doctor’s care, so I got the number.’’
‘‘I wasn’t really looking for him,’’ Collier said. ‘‘I didn’t think he’d help at the prelim. Interesting he’s there, though.’’
‘‘But that’s not all. So she says a few things, like she’s busy at school and doesn’t know anything and hopes everything turns out all right, and I nod my head and take a note. We start talking about skiing. She says she doesn’t ski now, but it used to be the biggest thing in her life.
‘‘I ask, funny you don’t ski with everybody else in the family being big on that. I go on about how come she’s not involved with the resort. She gets a funny look on her face and says Jim’s responsible for that. She really wants to talk, but her father’s somewhere back there.’’
‘‘Jim’s responsible . . .’’ Collier said.
‘‘She’s down on him. I don’t know why. She has something to tell us. She’s getting ready to say bye and close the door, but then she has a change of heart. She firms up, stands up straight, you know? Says she’ll talk to you right now if you promise to keep it confidential. I guess the dad’s about to leave Kelly’s place.’’
‘‘Impossible,’’ said Collier. ‘‘I’m completely booked.’’
‘‘Unbook yourself. Can you?’’
‘‘What does Jim Strong’s sister have to say that’s such a damn emergency?’’
‘‘I don’t think it’s an emergency. I just think this is the moment she’s ready to unload something. Maybe something really good for us.’’
Collier ran his hand through his hair. ‘‘It might be a break. We could use a break.’’
‘‘I drove all the way here to get you. Come on, I got a county car.’’ Collier flipped open the appointment book, eyed it briefly, and slapped it shut.
‘‘Let’s go.’’
They walked out to the main room, affectionately known as the pit, from which all the other offices branched, and Sean waited while Collier knocked on Barbara’s door. She was sitting with a cop, going over some testimony. ‘‘Excuse me, Barb. Any chance you could handle the afternoon felony calendar for me? The files are on my desk. It’s light today.’’
Barbara looked surprised. ‘‘Are you kidding?’’ she said. ‘‘I can’t juggle that and the prelim I’ve got this afternoon.’’
‘‘Sure you can. Just tell Flaherty you’ll need to start an hour late, and go upstairs and take care of it for me. I’ve got an emergency.’’
‘‘What kind of emergency?’’
‘‘The Strong case. Are you going to help me or not?’’
‘‘This time, Collier,’’ Barbara said, ‘‘but it will cost you.’’
Everything always did.
18
‘‘COLLIER?’’ SEAN WHIPPED around a left curve in the road around the lake. Just past Cave Rock in Nevada, they trundled along behind a lumber truck doing about thirty. Narrow because of the snowbanks on either side, the highway looked like a sleigh trail. The car smelled of stale cigar smoke.
‘‘Collier? You still with me?’’
&nbs
p; ‘‘Sorry. I was picturing Doc Clauson drooling out of one side of his mouth onto the sheets. A shame, a real shame. His sister is a nurse and seems willing to take care of him. That’s about the only good thing about any of it.’’
‘‘Must be worse when you’re a medico yourself. You know exactly how bad it is.’’
‘‘He’s not that old.’’
‘‘It was the smoking.’’
‘‘Or quitting smoking. The pressure, years of attacks in court. I don’t know.’’
‘‘You think his mind was affected?’’
‘‘Probably. He’s been having some trouble. Like with the Strong autopsy.’’
‘‘We’ll come up with something from these people in Incline. We’ll work around it.’’
‘‘He said something to me,’’ Collier said. ‘‘Earlier, before the stroke. I can’t get it out of my mind.’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘He said Strong is a monster. He was talking about the crime.’’
‘‘You’d have to be.’’
‘‘I’m going to be very unhappy if I can’t barbecue this guy.’’
They went on in silence. Collier had things to think about, and Sean didn’t seem to mind the lack of chitchat.
Incline Village, the most expensive of the North Shore resort towns, had one casino-hotel, three fine restaurants, a giant condo development or two, and a couple of hundred vacation homes, all clustered in deep forest along the lake. They pulled alongside a five-foot-high snowbank and climbed out. The deep windless shade made the day bone cold.
The girl who answered the door wore a blue denim jacket, metal-rimmed glasses, and red-rimmed eyes. ‘‘Come in,’’ she said. ‘‘It’s a long story.’’
‘‘Those are the best kind,’’ Collier said matter-of-factly.
Nina had just returned from the airport and was on the phone when Collier exploded through the office door. He grabbed her and pulled her out in the hall while Sandy and Mrs. Geiger, who had just arrived, watched openmouthed. The door shut behind them.
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