Becky nodded. Ridgely walked slowly to his chair and sat down. He felt sick.
'I've known Gary since he was born. I was at Donnals wedding, yesterday.'
'I know. It's terrible. But there's no doubt he did it.'
'What's your evidence?'
Becky started with the peeping incident and explained about the pornography discovered in the search of Gary's home. Then she moved to the attack on Karen Nix and Gary's threat to kill her.
'Nix and Whiley look alike. We think Nix was the intended victim and Harmon attacked Whiley by mistake. It's obvious from the peeping incident, the porno and the way he handled his rejection by Nix that Harmon is weird where women are concerned.'
'Do you know anything about Gary?' Ridgely asked.
'I watched part of the interrogation.'
'He's mildly retarded. He's like a kid.'
'And children have poor impulse control. Besides, we have what amounts to a confession. At first, Harmon claimed he didn't know anything about the murder.
Then, he admitted seeing the killer fighting with Whiley at the entrance to Wishing Well Park. The more he talked, the more detail he gave.'
'Did he ever admit he killed Whiley?'
'No, but he didn't deny doing it.'
'What did he say?'
'He started by claiming he was too drunk to remember anything, but he ended up giving Dennis details about the murder that only the killer would know.'
'Such as?'
'He knew the location of the blows that killed Whiley and he said the murder weapon was a hatchet.'
'What?!'
'A pretty odd choice for a murder weapon, right?
And, coincidentally, the weapon used to kill those other two women.'
Ridgely looked stunned. 'Did you question Gary about the other murders?'
'No. We wanted to concentrate on Whiley. We were afraid we'd spook him if we started asking about other crimes. But the hatchet did it for me. Dennis says we've been keeping the type of weapon used on the other women a secret as a check against false confessions.'
Ridgely swiveled his chair. Morning fog was twisting through the low brown hills across the river. Becky waited expectantly while her boss digested what she had just told him. When he swiveled back, Ridgely looked exhausted.
'Jesse and Alice love that boy. They've sacrificed so much for him.' He shook his head. 'There are times when I hate this job.'
Steve Mancini's office was in a square, earth-brown, single-story building on the outskirts of city center, five blocks from the courthouse. On one side of the building was Pearl Street. On the opposite side, a narrow parking area formed a buffer between the building and a Mexican restaurant.
In the back was more parking and a high wooden fence that separated the lot from a residential area of run- down homes. LAW OFFICES OF STEPHEN L. MANCINI was affixed to the building beside the front door in black block letters. Smaller lettering below Mancini's name listed two other sole practitioners who rented from him.
Steve's office was at the rear of the building next to the back door. It was furnished with cheap wood paneling, a large, imitation Persian rug and a battleship-size desk. A month ago, Peter would have thought the office pretentious, but serving time in Amos Geary's rat-trap offices had dulled his senses.
'Did you talk to Gary?' Mancini asked as soon as Peter was seated. Both men looked exhausted from lack of sleep.
'I saw him this morning, right after you called.'
'How's he holding up?'
'Not too well. The poor kid kept asking for you.'
'I'll see him this afternoon.'
'Uh, just how slow is Gary?'
'He's retarded, but he got through high school and he can work. Why?'
'It looks like Dennis Downes played some games with his head.'
'What do you mean?'
'Downes conned Gary into talking about the case by convincing him he's a detective. He has Gary believing he has supernatural powers and can read minds or some such nonsense.'
Mancini looked puzzled i 'I know Dennis. He's a good guy. I can't see him taking advantage of Gary like that.'
'I don't care how nice Downes has been in the past.
This supernatural mind thing sounds like a trick you'd use to take advantage of someone who's not too bright.
You better check it out.'
Mancini looked uncomfortable. He picked up a pencil and tapped it on his desk.
'I've got a problem, Pete. I had a lot of time to think on the drive back.
There's no way I can be lead counsel in this case. Ridgely might go for the death penalty.
Think of what it would do to my marriage if I lost.
Donna loves that kid. She'd never forgive me.'
'I see what you mean. You're going to have to bring in someone from Portland to handle a case like this.
Maybe Michael Palmer or Ann Girard?'
Mancini shook his head. 'Whitaker juries won't take to an outsider. I've seen what happens when one of those slick big-city types rolls into town. Ridgely eats them for dinner. No, Pete, I was thinking of you.'
'Me?' Peter laughed uneasily. 'You've got to be kidding. I've lived in Whitaker for barely two months. I'm as much of an outsider as any other Portland lawyer.
And I've already explained how little criminal law experience I have.'
Mancini looked Peter in the eye.
'You don't have to take this case, but you'll regret it, if you don't. I'm giving you a once in a lifetime opportunity. If you win Gary's case, you'll be the most famous lawyer in the eastern part of the state. You are going to be the 'go to' guy for every farmer and ranch hand who's injured between Whitaker and the California border. I don't have to tell you how much money Ron Siss ler, Dave Macafee and Ernie Petersen make defending claims for the insurance companies. Pete, there's a lawyer on the other side of every claim they defend. That lawyer could be you.'
'That would be great, Steve. But I'd only be famous if I won. A murder case is out of my league.'
'Don't be ridiculous. It's not as complex as some of the stuff you handled at Hale, Greaves. Besides, I'll help you. I've got plenty of experience with criminal cases.'
Mancini had Peter thinking. He had second-chaired several major cases with his father and he had tried a number of smaller matters that were much tougher than any criminal case.
'Don't tell me you can't use the money?' Mancini said.
'Well, sure, but ... What kind of money are we talking about?'
'You'd have to ask for at least a hundred grand.
What with expert witnesses, investigation.'
'Do the Harnions have that kind of dough?'
'Jesse Harmon is worth a lot and he doesn't spend a nickel he doesn't have to, but he'd clean out his savings for Gary.'
'What about Amos?' Peter asked, suddenly remembering his boss. 'He'd never let me defend Gary. We're up to our eyeballs in court-appointed stuff.
If I was representing Gary, I wouldn't have time to do any other work.'
Mancini leaned back in his chair and held the pencil in both hands. Then, he said, 'Fuck Amos Geary.'
'What?
'Fuck him. For Christ's sake, Pete, he's an old, washed-up drunk. I can't believe a guy like you is saddled with
