'Tell you what,' Frame said. 'Why don't we run about nine on Sunday, then eat brunch at Papa Hayden's.'
'You're on,' Tracy said, smiling, as she started to detect the direction the river was running.
Chapter TWELVE
Assistant Attorney General Chuck Geddes reluctantly agreed to wait until the day after the funeral to interview Abigail Griffen, but only after Jack Stamm suggested that confronting a widow on the day her husband was buried might be seen as insensitive and in bad taste. It was the 'bad taste' part that swayed Geddes, who prided himself on his impeccable judgment in all things.
Geddes had the rugged good looks of the men who modeled in cigarette commercials, and he walked like a man with a steel rod for a spine. He had developed this marching style while in the Judge Advocate's office during his military service. His views were as unbending as his posture. When he lost a trial, it was always due to the judge's intellectual deficits, the underhanded tactics of an unscrupulous opponent or the stupidity of the jurors. To give him his due, Geddes did win his share of tough cases. He had been appointed attorney-in-charge of the District/Attorney Assistance Program at the Department of Justice because he was the most successful trial attorney in the section. Geddes was relentless, possessed of animal cunning and quite able to charm a jury.
The policeman guarding Abbie's house relaxed when he recognized Jack Stamm. As soon as Stamm parked, Geddes got out of the front passenger seat and straightened the jacket of his tan lightweight Brioni suit.
Neil Christenson, his investigator, got out of the back seat while Geddes was adjusting his French cuffs.
Christenson was third-generation law enforcement and a former state trooper who had been with the Department of Justice for nine years. He had the type of heavy build you would expect from an ex-Oregon State lineman who was too busy to keep in top shape but still managed to jog a little and pump iron on occasion.
Christenson wore his hair in a crew cut, but his friendly blue eyes and easy smile made him less intimidating than normal for a man his size.
While Geddes dressed to kill, Christenson wore a worn tweed sports jacket that was too heavy for summer, lightweight tan slacks, a blue oxford dress shirt with a frayed collar and no tie.
Abbie looked exhausted when she opened the door. She wasn't wearing makeup, her hair had only received a perfunctory brushing and there were dark circles under her eyes. She had made only the briefest attempt to clean up after the mourners who had followed her home from the cemetery.
Overflowing ashtrays, dirty plates and partially filled cups of coffee littered the living room.
'How are you feeling?' Stamm asked.
'I'm doing okay.'
Abbie looked past Stamm to the two men who were standing behind him.
'This is Chuck Geddes. He's with the District Attorney Assistance Program at the Department Of Justice, and this is his investigator, Neil Christenson.'
'My condolences. Justice Griffen's death was a terrible tragedy,'
Geddes said, stepping around Stamm and offering his hand.
Abbie looked confused and a little wary. 'What's going on, Jack?' i 'Can we come in?' Stamm asked. Ab e stepped aside. She looked at the mess in the living room and led everyone into the kitchen, where there had been some damage control.
'I've got coffee if anyone's interested.'
'Is it decaf?.' Geddes asked.
'Not this morning,' Abbie answered.
Stamm and Christenson asked for theirs black, but Geddes demurred.
The kitchen window looked out at a small deck and beyond to a fenced backyard. A flower garden separated the fence from the lawn. Scarlet fuchsias, yellow gladioli and pink tea roses created a bouquet of bright colors that contrasted with the gloom in the kitchen.
'What brings you here?' Abbie asked when everyone was seated around the kitchen table. Stamm looked at Abbie briefly, then looked down at his cup.
'I'm in a very unpleasant position. One that ' will make it impossible for me to continue the investigation of Justice Griffen's murder.
The Portland police are also stepping aside. Chuck has been appointed as a special deputy district attorney for Multnomah County. It's his case now.'
Abbie looked perplexed. 'Why do you have to bow out? What happened?'
'There's no easy way to put this, Abbie. You've become a suspect in Robert's murder.'
Abbie stared at Stamm. 'Are you serious?' she asked with a confused smile.
'I'm very serious,' Stamm answered quietly Abbie looked back and forth between the three men. Then her features clouded. 'This is utter nonsense.'
Geddes had been sitting back, legs crossed, observing Abbie's reaction.
'We have a witness who claims you solicited him to kill Justice Griffen and evidence to support his story.'
'That's ridiculous. What witness? What evidence?' Abbie challenged.
'I'm not at liberty to say at the moment, but you can assist us in clearing up this matter by answering a few questions. Of course, I do have to warn you that you have a right to remain silent and that anything you say can be used to convict you in a court of law. You also have a right to consult with an attorney and, if you cannot afford an attorney, the court will appoint one to assist you, free of charge. Do you understand these rights?'
Abbie stared at Chuck Geddes in disbelief. 'Are you being intentionally insulting?'
'I'm being a professional,' Geddes answered with unruffled calm.
Abbie turned to Stamm. 'Is this for real, Jack? Am I a suspect?'
'I'm afraid so. And you should think seriously about talking to Chuck without counsel.'
Geddes glared angrily at Stamm for a second, then regained his composure.
'I don't need a lawyer, Jack. I didn't kill Robert. Ask me anything you want to.'
'Abbie . . .' Stamm started.
'She says she's willing to talk to us, Jack,' Geddes interjected forcefully.'Maybe she can clear up the confusion. If we're on a wild-goose chase, let's straighten this out, so I can go back to Salem.'
Stamm did not regret warning Abbie, but he backed off. This was Geddes's case now.
'Mrs. Griffen, why don't you tell us where you were from nine to midnight on the evening Justice Griffen was killed?'
'I already explained that to Jack.'
'I know, but Neil and I would like to hear what you have to say firsthand.'
'I'm prosecuting a murder case involving a defendant named Jeffrey Coulter, who is represented by Matthew Reynolds.' At the mention of Reynolds's name Geddes leaned forward slightly.
'Reynolds's forensic experts conducted experiments in the Franklin home recently. The results were favorable to Coulter. The night my husband was killed, a man called around nine o'clock and told me that Reynolds's experts manufactured evidence at the Franklin home. He wanted to meet me immediately at the rose garden at Lewis and Clark College.'
'The rose garden is in an isolated area of the campus, isn't it?'
Geddes asked.
'That's right. It's on the edge of the campus behind the outdoor pool.'
'Jack told me about your close call at the coast. Weren't you afraid of meeting someone in such a deserted spot so soon after being attacked?'
'I couldn't pass up the chance to nail Coulter. And I went armed. I was almost hoping it was the bastard who broke into my cabin.'
'Did you think about bringing backup with you?'
'The caller told me to come alone or he wouldn't talk to me. I didn't want to scare him off. It didn't matter anyway, because no one showed.'
'Can someone substantiate your story?'
'No. The parking lot was deserted by the time I got there and I didn't meet anyone.'
'Mrs. Griffen, was your divorce acrimonious?'
'I don't want to discuss my private life.'
