“Anything you find that might smell. Check finances, family members, business dealings. Pallbearers, if you have the time. Did the family request donations rather than flowers? If so, where did they want the money to go? It’s gonna require you to dig through a huge pile of manure in order to find the diamond.”
“If there even is a diamond.”
“It’s in there somewhere. We’ve just got to uncover it.”
“Okay. I’ll get on it first thing in the morning.” Eric laughed. “
“Could be I made a fool’s deal, Eric. Depends on how good your book is.”
“It’s a helluva lot better than the obits page. I can promise you that.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Eli lay in his bed in the prison infirmary, eyes closed tight, as though by so doing he could miraculously shut out the pain along with the light. Lying there, with a half-dozen needles jabbed into veins in his arms and the back of both hands, extremities now black and blue from the relentless torture, he felt like a pin cushion. No human should experience such indignity.
He wanted to curse God, to rail against a Maker who would allow such misery, such affliction, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t dare, never, regardless of the circumstances, however grim and horrible they might be. Eli knew better, knew that despite the intense and bitter feelings he now felt, nothing could erase his awe for the Almighty. Awe… and fear. To love God is required; to fear him is the true beginning of wisdom.
The pages of history are replete with cautionary tales about men and women who voiced angry displeasure at God and the consequences they suffered. Eli often told his parishioners-and his own children-the story of Kierkegaard’s father, Michael, who, while still a young boy, cursed God. That single moment of anger, only a split- second in the space of a full lifetime, placed such a heavy burden on young Michael that he never cast it away. He remained throughout his life a sad, broken, and remorseful man.
Never, Eli warned, admonish the Almighty, no matter how bad or tragic or dire the circumstances that fire your anger. His ways are not our ways, and no matter how hard we try, we can never comprehend them. His plan for each of us is his alone. We are merely his instruments, his humble servants.
And yet… at this moment, it took all of Eli’s will and strength to contain the angry feelings that roiled inside him. The pain he felt now was unbearable. His lungs burned like they were in flames. It felt like a mad wolverine was in his chest, chewing relentlessly at his insides, consuming his very being inch by inch. The cancer was, Eli knew, eating him alive.
The morphine available to him could ease the pain, but Eli wasn’t ready to go that route. Yes, the pain was unbearable, yet at this point he preferred suffering to being doped up and out of it. Once you choose to bury the pain behind a cloud of drugs, you also choose to abandon life as you know it. That option wasn’t acceptable… yet. Eli did not want to be dead while still alive.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why God had placed such a heavy burden on him. He had always been God’s faithful servant, a true believer. Yes, he had sinned, fallen victim to temptation, to lust, but he was cleansed through God’s love and mercy. He had tried to obey the Commandments, to live a pious life, to be a loving husband and devoted father. A protective father. He had taken the blame for sins he didn’t commit. Spent three decades in prison for a sentence that wasn’t rightfully his to serve.
Eli wondered if perhaps this was the sin that caused God’s wrath. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the blame. Maybe he should have pointed fingers at the real perpetrator. Maybe, by allowing a murderer to go free, he was, in God’s eyes, as guilty as the killer.
Maybe-
But he had taken the only path available to him at the time. He had but a single option then and he had taken it. Any loving father would have made the same decision. Eli simply did not believe God would elect to punish him for following his conscience in a matter involving the safety of his wife and children. God could not be that cruel and uncaring.
God had to understand.
God
Tears rolled down Eli’s cheeks as he drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dantzler spent the next day studying the murder book for the Eli Whitehouse case. The report was detailed, thorough, clean, and as easy to read as a Michael Connelly novel. Exactly what you would expect from Charlie Bolton.
The specifics of the case were simple: On the night of April 5, 1982, Greg Spurlock and Angie Iler saw smoke and flames rising toward the sky. Curious, they drove in the direction of the fire, eventually arriving at the site, an old barn located next to a small pond. By this time, around midnight, a hard rain had begun to fall, effectively putting out the fire. The couple went into the barn, where they discovered the bodies of Carl Osteen and Bruce Fowler. The couple then drove to a small gas station several miles away and phoned the fire department and police.
Charlie Bolton had Dan Matthews contact Eli and ask him to come to the site. Eli arrived at two forty-five a.m. Eli was told the names of the deceased, and asked if he knew them. He stated that he did not. He was asked if he was aware of any reason why drugs would be on the property. He did not. He was also asked if he owned any weapons. He said he owned a Winchester rifle and a.22 caliber pistol. At approximately four-fifteen, Eli was allowed to leave the scene.
At five p.m. that same day, Charlie and Dan met with Eli at his house. During their talk, Dan showed a.22 pistol to Eli and asked if the weapon belonged to him. Eli said no, his was locked inside the safe. Dan asked Eli to open the safe, which he did without hesitation. Eli expressed disbelief when he saw the.22 was missing. Charlie informed Eli that the weapon now in police possession would be turned over to the ballistics experts for testing.
At approximately ten on the morning of April 6, Eli was brought to the station and officially interrogated by Charlie and Dan. The interrogation lasted more than three hours and covered a surprisingly wide range of topics.
Dantzler read the typed transcript of Eli’s initial conversation with Charlie and Dan several times, eventually returning to the section in which they discussed the.22.
Charlie: Tell us again. When was the last time you used the weapon.
Eli: Two weeks ago.
Charlie: What were the circumstances?
Eli: Circumstances? There were no circumstances simply took the pistol to the lake by the barn and fired several rounds. I do that periodically to ensure that it is in working order.
Charlie: Was it in working order?
Eli: It worked perfectly, as it always did.
Dan: Here’s where we run into problems, Mr. Whitehouse. Your fingerprints are on the weapon and…
Eli: Of course, my fingerprints are on the gun. I told you. I used it two weeks ago.
