The Price of Justice

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The Price of Justice Page 23

by Marti Green


  “Hi, doll.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Just doing some errands.”

  “I mean it, Tommy, what exactly are you doing?”

  There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then Tommy spoke. “I told Win my plan. He’s over at Max’s now.”

  “Oh, God, Tommy. What have you done? If we’re right, Dolan is a murderer. Win is completely defenseless.”

  “I’ve got it under control. Don’t worry, babe.”

  Dani hung up, furious. She looked in her notes for Max Dolan’s address, then grabbed her sweater, ran down the stairs, and retrieved her car from the parking lot. As she drove, she dialed the police precinct in Fort Lee, New Jersey.

  Win figured he had forty minutes at most to search the apartment. Maybe less, if Dolan had the pedal pressed down all the way. With normal driving, the hospital was twenty minutes away. Once Dolan arrived, he’d quickly learn his parents were fine, that there’d been no accident. Tommy had persuaded someone in the hospital’s security office to make the call.

  Tommy had e-mailed Win the picture of Carly on the night of the dance, wearing her party dress, with the corsage on her wrist. A second picture had the carnations enlarged. If Dani was right and Dolan had killed Carly, then kept the corsage, it would no longer look anything like the picture. But it could be identified by the purple band that held the flowers.

  He began in the bedroom, opening each drawer, rifling through the clothes, then making sure everything was straightened before moving on to the next drawer. Nothing.

  He moved over to the walk-in closet. Each suit, each pair of slacks, each shirt was neatly hung. His eyes turned up to the shelves over the rods. Two piles of textbooks, three boxes, and a musical-instrument case, no doubt containing the saxophone Dolan played in high school. He reached for the textbooks first—a logical place to hide a pressed flower, he thought. He went through each page and found nothing. After placing the books back up the shelf, he next took down the three boxes. The first contained only sweaters, the second only old photographs. Win flipped through a few and saw they were taken during Dolan’s childhood. The third box was filled with papers. Carefully, Win took out each one and made sure none contained a pressed flower.

  Gradually, Win began to feel more relaxed. Dani was wrong. Dolan hadn’t murdered Carly, and he hadn’t kept her corsage as a souvenir. Still, he’d promised Tommy a thorough search, so he continued. He checked under the mattress and the bed, and both were bare. Scanning the room, he saw no other place where it could be hidden.

  Win moved into the living room. It only took a few minutes to ascertain nothing was there. The kitchen was next. Although there were a lot of cabinets and drawers, it was quickly clear that it contained only kitchen items.

  Finally, he stepped into the office and headed first for the desk. He sat down on the chair and opened each drawer, one by one. Sitting on top of a stack of papers in the second drawer was a pistol. He reached in and lifted it out, then turned it over and over in his hand. He knew almost nothing about guns, not even how to check and see if it were loaded. He looked back in the drawer and saw a booklet under the gun—an instruction manual for a Glock 17 Gen4.

  What the hell is he doing with a gun? Win considered removing the bullets. He checked his watch. Dolan had been gone twenty-five minutes. He could be back in as little as fifteen more minutes, maybe even less. No time to search through the manual to try to figure out how. He searched through the remaining papers in that drawer, then placed the gun carefully back and closed the drawer. Briefly, he wondered if he should have taken the gun himself, or hidden it away where Dolan wouldn’t find it. But why should I be concerned? There’s no corsage. Max is not a killer.

  He turned to the closet in the room. Shelves had been built into it, and on each one were office supplies—printer paper, printer ink, envelopes, folders. Nothing unusual. Then he glanced at the floor and saw a small safe. He flopped down onto his knees and stared at it. Of course, he would have a safe. A place to keep extra money, maybe some bonds, an expensive watch or two. No need to be suspicious.

  He stared at the steel box, then looked at the tumblers. Four rows of numbers. Zero through thirty. Should I? He looked at his watch. Dolan had left thirty-five minutes earlier. He set the numbers at 1, 1, 2, and 4 for November 24, Dolan’s birthday, then tugged on the handle. Nothing. Next, he tried Dolan’s sister’s birthday. Nothing. Win had known Max for so long that his family’s important dates had been stored away in his memory. He sat down on the floor and stared at the safe. What numbers would be important to Max? What dates would he always remember? And then it hit him. The date that Dolan had always joked he’d never forget.

  It had been the June of their junior year at Vanguard Prep. They’d finished one week of exams and had one more week to go. Sick of studying and wanting to take advantage of the cloudless blue sky and unseasonably hot temperatures, Dolan had impulsively organized a Saturday beach party. Ordering up enough limousines to carry the group of twelve to Greenwich Point Park, they left school for the day, stopping along the way to pick up passes for the park. They tipped one driver a hundred-dollar bill to buy several coolers with ice and ten six-packs of beer. Once settled on the warm sand, Dolan immediately paired off with Libby Canton, the girl he’d been after all year. Later, Win noticed they’d disappeared, then forgot about them. At the agreed-upon time to leave, the two strolled back, arm in arm, both smiling.

  Back at the dorm, Dolan bragged to Win that he’d finally “done it.” He’d lost his virginity to Libby when they’d found a secluded cove with no one around. “I’ll never forget today,” he’d confessed to his friend.

  Could that be it? Win wondered. Could that date unlock the safe? What was the date? He was certain of June—the first two numbers would be 0 and 6. What else? It had been nine years ago. He pulled out his phone and Googled the calendar for June 2005, then looked at the third Saturday of the month. June 18. Quickly, he punched in 0618, then heard the click of the lock opening. He pulled on the handle for the safe, and it opened. As he’d expected, inside was a rolled-up wad of cash and two gold Rolex watches. He reached in farther and felt a large envelope, then took it out. He pulled from it a 2007 appointment book. His heart sank. That was the year Carly was murdered. He flipped the page to December 15, the night of the dance, and there it was, staring him in the face. Bone-dry petals and a purple elastic band. The corsage Carly Sobol had worn on the night she died.

  CHAPTER

  46

  “You’ve got to get someone over there,” Dani urged the police sergeant on the other end of the phone. “I’m afraid someone is in real danger.”

  “You haven’t really explained why, miss.”

  “It’s a long story, a very long story. There’s not enough time. But I believe Max Dolan may try to harm my client, Winston Melton.”

  “Whoa! You’re talking about the Winston Melton?”

  “I am.”

  “I guess when a Melton’s involved, we can’t take any chances. I’ll send a car over.”

  “Good. I’ll be there in ten minutes myself. I’ll wait for them in the lobby.”

  When Dani hung up, she called Tommy, but it went straight to voice mail. “Call me back, it’s urgent. I’m afraid Win may be in trouble,” was the message she left, while she silently hoped she was wrong.

  Win was still in the study when he heard the apartment door open, then footsteps. He froze momentarily, then remembered what he had to do. Quickly, he took out his phone, pressed a speed-dial number, and when Tommy answered, whispered, “I found it. But he’s back now.”

  “Okay, we’re set. You know what’s next.”

  “I do.”

  He replaced his phone in his pocket, then waited for Dolan. As soon as he noticed Win’s jacket draped over a kitchen stool, he’d realize Win hadn’t left. It took less than a minute.

&nbs
p; “Win? You still here?”

  “I’m in the study.”

  As Dolan walked in, he was already speaking. “You won’t believe this. My parents—”

  The blood drained from his face when he saw Win standing by the open safe, the appointment book in his hand. “What—what are you doing with that?”

  Win took out the dried corsage and held it up in his hand. The steely coldness of his voice belied the rage he felt. “You killed her. You killed Carly. And you let me take the blame.”

  Dolan’s eyes darted wildly about the room.

  “No one else is here. It’s just you and me.”

  “It’s not like it seems.”

  “Really? Then tell me how it’s different.”

  “It-it—” Suddenly, he stopped. “Are you wearing a wire? Are you recording this?”

  Win wanted to run over to Dolan, to wrap his hands around his neck and choke the life out of him. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs to rid his body of the disgust he felt at the betrayal by his best friend. But he had a job to do. His shook his head.

  “Prove it.”

  “You think everyone is a liar like you?”

  “Pick up your shirt.”

  Win complied. “Here, I’ll even drop my pants for you.”

  After he’d pulled them back up, Dolan said, “Empty your pockets.”

  Win took out his cell phone and a handkerchief from one pocket, his wallet and a pen from the other, and held them up in one hand. With the other, he pulled his pockets out to show nothing was left. When Dolan nodded, he returned the items to his pockets.

  “Now, tell me why you murdered Carly and let me rot on death row for seven years. Tell me why you would have let them execute me.”

  “No, no, I wouldn’t. I didn’t. I went to your grandmother. I helped her get you out.”

  Win laughed. “Oh, I see. You’re a hero. I should really be thanking you. I suppose now you’ll tell me you didn’t murder Carly.”

  “It wasn’t murder, I swear. It was an accident.”

  “Tell me.”

  Dolan walked over to his desk. “I need to sit down.”

  Win watched him move, but it all seemed like a dream to him. He’d humored Tommy by coming here today, looking upon it as a test of his ability to venture farther from home rather than the opportunity to expose a killer. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

  “I’d always liked Carly, you know. If you hadn’t asked her out first, then I would have. When you dumped her, I figured it was my chance, but I didn’t want her on the rebound from you. I wanted her to be over you.”

  “So, what? She spurned you? Is that why you murdered her?”

  “No, no, I keep telling you, it wasn’t murder. After you left the gym with her, I went outside, figured I’d wait for you there. But when you came out of the woods, you were alone. You didn’t see me. I watched you walk to the car, and then wait. I figured I’d go find Carly, make my move. She was standing under a tree, crying. No, sobbing. I went over and wrapped my arms around her, tried to comfort her. After a while, she started to calm down, and I kissed her. She kissed me back. Hard.”

  Win’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Dolan. “You telling me she wanted it? That you didn’t rape her?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re a liar.”

  “No. It’s true. She kissed me, and the next thing we knew, we were on the ground. I took her hair ribbon out and tied her hands back, you know, made it seem like I was forcing her, but I wasn’t, she wanted me.”

  Win averted his eyes from Dolan. It sickened him to look at his sweaty face, his slicked-back hair. How could he not have known, all these years, that something was wrong with him? He’d heard the rumors, of course, but dismissed them. The girls who’d said he was rough, and those who’d said even more. They were just jealous, because he wouldn’t settle down with one of them, Win had reasoned. His friend couldn’t be like that. Not the boy he’d taken his first smoke with, his first puff of weed, his first slug of beer. Not the one who’d stayed by his side all through his arrest and then the trial, and years and years afterward. Not his only friend.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Dolan continued. A sob caught in his throat. “I put my hand around her neck, squeezed it, like I’d done with so many others. It heightened the experience, made it better for them. But she was squirming so much, I had to tighten my hand to keep her still. And then . . . then . . .”

  “What?”

  “Then nothing. She stopped moving. I finished up and told her to get up. She just lay there, her eyes wide open.”

  “How come the cops didn’t find your DNA in her?”

  “Come on. You know. We always carried condoms with us back then. We’d joke about being Boy Scouts, always prepared.”

  “Why didn’t you get help for her? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  “It was too late,” Dolan said, his voice soft.

  Win screamed, “It wasn’t too late for me, you bastard!” He lunged toward Dolan.

  Perhaps if he hadn’t been so consumed with hatred, perhaps if his rage hadn’t clouded his eyes, he might have seen Dolan’s hand move toward the second drawer, quickly open it, and pull out the pistol. Then he might have run from the room, out of the apartment, to safety. Instead, he drew up short at the sight of the gun pointed at his forehead.

  “Stay.”

  Win did as instructed.

  “Damn!” Dani shouted to herself. She had only a short distance to get to Max’s building, but the traffic on the George Washington Bridge was just creeping along, bit by agonizing bit. She thought about calling Win’s cell phone, but if Win had already confronted Max, she didn’t want to make Max panic. She tried Tommy once more, but again it went to voice mail.

  Finally, the cars began to move more quickly. She passed a car stalled on the side of the bridge, no doubt the cause of the jam. She’d be at the apartment in a few minutes now. She hoped it was in time.

  “Needless to say, I’ll deny everything if you’re foolish enough to repeat what I told you,” Max told Win, still holding the gun on him. “For the record, I never expected it to be pinned on you. And even after you were arrested, I never dreamed you’d be convicted.”

  “What about the corsage?”

  “What corsage?” Dolan said, as he motioned for Win to hand it over.

  “Tell me, why did you keep it?”

  Dolan looked away from Win, then turned back. With a pensive look on his face, he said, “I guess I’m a sentimentalist at heart. I really did like Carly.”

  “And Stacy Pinkerton? You killed her, too, didn’t you?”

  Max looked at him with a blank stare. “Who?”

  “She saw you outside the gym, going after Carly. She would have identified you, so you ran her down.”

  Max’s mouth turned up in a small smile. “You give me too much credit.”

  Win’s lip curled up, and he averted his eyes from Dolan. Maybe it was just an accident after all. Or, maybe it was . . . It didn’t matter to him. The man standing opposite Win, once his closest friend, was now a stranger to him. Win knew he should say nothing more, just promise his silence, grab his jacket, and leave. But he couldn’t. He turned back toward Dolan. “It’s over, you know.”

  The pensiveness was gone. Dolan sneered at Win. “No one will believe you. You’re a convicted felon. If people didn’t have their doubts about Sanders’s confession before, they’ll know it was a sham once I release the confession your grandmother signed, and the documents transferring funds from her account to Letitia Sanders. You’ll look like a guy desperate to place the blame on anyone else, even your most loyal friend.”

  “It’s over,” he repeated.

  Dolan looked at him quizzically, and then it hit him. “You recorded this?”

  Win nodded
.

  “Show me.”

  Win took the pen from his pants pocket and held it up.

  “Give it to me.”

  “It won’t matter.”

  “Do you have a death wish? I said, hand it over.”

  “I didn’t just record you.” He pulled his phone from his other pants pocket. “It’s been on this whole time. Tommy Noorland has been listening in and recording it at his end. He’s down in the lobby right now.”

  Dolan sneered at him. “It can’t be used. I never consented to being recorded.”

  “I guess you should have gone to law school. New Jersey only requires one person to consent. And I did.”

  At that moment, both turned their heads as they heard a key turn the lock of the front door. In the seconds it took for the door to burst open, Dolan ran in front of the desk and grabbed Win, keeping the pistol pointed at his head. Win jammed his hands into his armpits, squeezing his body tightly to control its shaking. Dani had been right. He never should have come here. He’d needed to know the truth, and now he did. But it didn’t change anything. Carly was still dead, and he’d still spent seven years in hell. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as Dolan tightened his grip.

  “Stay out of here!” Dolan shouted. “I have a gun pointed at Win, and trust me, I’ll shoot!”

  “Win, it’s Dani. I have the police with me. And Tommy is here, too. Are you all right?”

  “He won’t be if you don’t leave,” Max called out.

  “Max, this is Lt. James McCaffrey. I don’t want you to do anything rash. We won’t come inside until you tell us it’s okay. But if we hear one gunshot, it’s over for you.”

  Keeping one arm around Win’s neck, with the gun pointed at his temple, Dolan pushed Win toward the study door and slammed it shut. He shoved Win back to his desk, then pushed him down on the chair.

  “Max, what’s the point of this? Even if you kill me, there’s no escape for you.”

  Dolan paced furiously back and forth along the length of the desk, never taking the gun off Win.

 

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