turn the voters around. But Judge Quinn trusted me. He saved my life by ruling as he did. I don't want to hurt him. And there's the legal problem. I need to know what would happen to Quinn's order if Riker learns that the judge fixed my case. Would I be back facing a murder charge?'
'I'm pretty certain that the order would be null and void if Quinn admits he lied about his legal conclusions, but Riker would have real problems continuing his prosecution. Even if the blood spatter evidence was ruled admissible by a new judge, we now have a reasonable explanation for it, and that's the only concrete evidence the State has to contradict your version of what happened on the night of your husband's murder.
'Then, there's all this new evidence about Jack Brademas and Junior, and Gage bribing Fargo to come forward. The fact that someone tried to blackmail Quinn into assuring your conviction also makes it look like someone else was behind your husband's murder.'
'What will happen to Judge Quinn if I go public with the information that he fixed my case?'
Garrett sighed. 'He'll be ruined. Even if he fixed the case with the best of intentions he'll be removed from the bench. He could be disbarred. He could even face criminal charges.'
'So Judge Quinn will be destroyed if I go public.'
'I'm afraid that's what it comes down to.'
'And if I don't go public, my reputation and my political career are over.'
Chapter 24.
[1]
Henry Orchard and Ellen Crease sat in the back booth of a dimly lit downtown restaurant and discussed the campaign.
'I don't know what to do, Henry.'
'It s a no-brainer, Ellen. You've got to hold the press conference and blow this blackmail scheme wide open. It's the only way you can give yourself a real chance to become a United States senator.'
'I'd be climbing into national politics over the judge's body. It'd kill him, bury him so deep he might never crawl out.'
'What if Gage is behind Lamar's murder? If you do nothing, Gage will win. You could be sending a murderer to the United States Senate. There's more at stake here than the career of one person. Quinn will still be alive. You've got money and influence. You can help him after you're elected.'
Crease leaned her head against the back of the booth and shut her eyes.
'I wish this would all go away, Henry. I wish Lamar was still alive and I never decided to challenge that son of a bitch Gage.'
'Yeah, well, those are wishes that won't come true, Ellen. And you're going to have to decide what you're going to do now. The days are slipping away. The primary is in May. If we're going to repair the damage caused by your murder indictment, we have to act. I agree with Garrett. Riker would be a fool to pursue his case once you reveal what you know. It's true that there are going to be casualties and Quinn will be one of them, but we're talking about your life here and about bringing your husband's murderer to justice.
'Look, why don't you talk this over with Quinn? Maybe he'll join you at the press conference and tell everyone how you saved his life and how this masked guy tried to force him into convicting you. If Quinn will help, it could be the break we need.'
Crease sighed. 'How soon can you set up the press conference?'
'I'll have you on the air Thursday night, prime time. We might even get national coverage.'
'Then, God help me, let's do it. And God help Richard Quinn.'
[2]
Quinn threw two more logs into the stone fireplace in the living room of Frank Price's beach house.
'You warm enough?' Quinn asked Laura.
'Uhm.'
Laura was bundled up in a wool sweater and jeans. A glass of wine sat on a low table at her elbow. Quinn settled on the floor beside Laura and they both stared through the huge picture window at the rain that pounded the beach and the boiling whitecaps that rolled over the beleaguered sand. The fire crackled and Quinn felt the heat on his face. He had good memories of this rustic cabin where he had spent many of his summers growing up. He was sorry that he would have to drive back to Portland tomorrow.
'What are you thinking about?' Quinn asked. 'If it's business, you're in big trouble.'
Laura laughed. 'Believe it or not, I haven't thought about my practice since we crossed the coast range. The mountains must block the brain waves from Price, Winward.'
Quinn put his arm around Laura's shoulder. He, too, had felt a lessening of tension as the landscape changed from urban sprawl to farmland and forest during their Sunday morning drive to the coast. By the time he and Laura were finishing bowls of thick, steaming clam chowder at a ramshackle restaurant of weathered wood on the Newport waterfront, he was a different person. An hour after lunch, Quinn and Laura were making love to the sound of rain pattering on the shake roof of the beach house and the murders were a universe away.
When they awoke Monday morning, a storm was brewing in the Pacific, but the rain held off until three. Quinn and Laura had walked the beach, driven into town for lunch, then spent the afternoon reading in front of the fire.
'If it's not business, then what caused that glazed look in your eyes?'
Laura looked a little guilty.
'You won't be mad at me?' she asked sheepishly.
Quinn squeezed her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.
'Speak. I know you. You'll brood all night if you don't get whatever is bothering you off your chest.'
'Why do you think Brademas told Lamar, Sr., that Junior was embezzling the money?'
Quinn groaned.
'You said you wouldn't be mad.'
Quinn sighed. 'Brademas was Hoyt's head of security. He was supposed to tell him.'
'I know, but wouldn't it have made more sense for Brademas to keep Hoyt in the dark? If Brademas hired Jablonski to kill Hoyt and Senator Crease so he would get a share of the estate when Junior inherited, wasn't Brademas risking a lot by going to Senior? What if Hoyt called in the police immediately after finding out about Junior? What if he changed his will the same day?'
'I see what you mean. Maybe Brademas didn't think of the plan until after he spoke to Hoyt.'
'That would explain it,' Laura said in a tone that let Quinn know she was not really convinced. 'And there's something else. That visit from Marie Ritter when she was pretending to be Claire Reston.'
'What about it?'
'What was the point? What possible purpose was served by having Ritter pretend to be her sister?'
Quinn shrugged. 'I guess Brademas and Junior wanted to shake me up so I'd go along with their blackmail scheme.'
'But you were already a mess. They'd threatened to frame you for murder. You thought you'd be disbarred, disgraced and incarcerated in a rat-infested prison on St. Jerome. Ritter's visit was really overkill.'
'Wait a minute. Ritter told me where she was staying just when Fran Stuart walked in. Brademas and Junior were creating a witness. After Ritter was murdered, Fran could testify that Ritter was upset when she left my chambers and that I knew her hotel room number.'
'That makes sense, but what if you saw through Ritter's makeup and figured out that Claire Reston and Andrea Chapman were the same person? You'd know Ritter wasn't murdered on St. Jerome. Brademas and Junior would have lost their leverage. Why put Marie Ritter in the same room with you when everything was going so well? Why take the risk?'
'They probably figured that I'd be so shaken up that I wouldn't be able to figure out that Reston and Chapman were the same person. And they were right. If I hadn't seen the scar on Ritter's hip I would still believe that Claire and Andrea were different women. They took a risk, but given my state, it wasn't all that big a risk.'
Laura snuggled close to Quinn. 'You're probably right.'
Quinn kissed Laura. 'Even if I'm not right, I don't care. I want to forget about Ellen Crease, Lamar Hoyt,fils and perey and Jack Brademas.'
