“And I need you, Jenny, very much.”
She looked up at him. She was frightened. They both were. Then their lips met, and they sank down on the soft carpet and made love in front of the fire.
Afterward she slept curled up in his arms. When David was certain he would not wake her, he eased her down and covered her with a blanket. Flame shadows played across her face, and she looked as peaceful as a sleeping child.
David put another log on the fire; then he sat across from Jenny so he could see her. She had come so close to saying something he did not want to think about. He could lose the trial, and their problems would be solved. But he would not. He would win an acquittal for Larry Stafford by trying the best case he had ever tried.
What kind of life could he and Jenny have together if he intentionally lost Larry Stafford’s case? Even if no one else ever knew, they would know, and that knowledge would destroy them.
Jenny said that Larry was innocent, and Terry Conklin’s pictures would prove it. Larry Stafford would be acquitted. Then Jenny would make her choice. A free choice.
PART III
1
“Nice of you to drop by,” Larry said sarcastically as soon as the guard shut the door to the private visitor’s room.
“Don’t, Larry,” Jennifer began. She wanted to say more, but her courage failed her. Larry started to say one thing, changed his mind, and shook his head.
“I’m sorry. It’s just with the trial starting…I just thought you’d visit more.”
Jennifer did not answer. She turned and walked to the far end of the narrow room. Larry followed her and touched her arm.
“I said I’m sorry, kitten. I’m all wound up.”
“I know,” she said quietly. He had lost weight, and he looked sad and defeated. She did not want to hurt him any more than he had already been hurt, but she knew she would have to.
“Larry, I don’t know if I can go through with it.”
Larry paled, just staring, his mouth partly open.
“What…what do you…?”
“It’s no good. They’ll see that I’m lying and it will make it worse for you.”
“No. No. You’ll do okay,” Stafford said desperately. “Nash believes you, right? He’s a pro. If we’ve got him fooled, the jury will be easy.”
Jennifer tried to say something. To talk to him. But her stomach was cramped with fear and self-loathing, and she felt short of breath. Larry just stared at her, afraid to speak. The silence in the room terrified him.
“Jenny, they can’t prove anything,” he said finally. “How will they know?” He stopped. He was pleading. “Besides, it’s the truth. I told you that, didn’t I? I swore to God.”
Jenny still could not speak. She could see the panic in his eyes.
“Goddammit,” he said, his voice rising, “you can’t change your story now. You’ll crucify me.
“Say something. It’s your fault I’m here. Do you want to bury me now?”
His voice rose in pitch and cut through her. She started to cry.
Larry grabbed her roughly by both arms. His fingers dug into her flesh, hurting her.
“Answer me, Jenny. Do you want me to die? Because that’s what’s happening to me here. I couldn’t stand prison, locked away. I can’t stand it now. The noise, the smells. This filth.”
He raised his arm like an accusing angel and pointed at the room.
“Do you hate me so much that you want me to live the rest of my life like some animal?”
She started to cry, turning her head from him, not wanting him to hold her or comfort her. He was right. She did not hate him. She was only tired of him. Disillusioned by the destruction of the love that she had once felt for him. She couldn’t let him end up in a place like this. Not even if he had…She could not complete the thought, because if Larry had killed that woman, then she was partly to blame.
“All right,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “All right.”
Stafford let her go. He was afraid and alone, and he could see the strands of his slender lifeline unraveling before his eyes.
ORTIZ SLOUCHED DOWNin the passenger seat of the unmarked police car. He had on a heavy jacket and a sweater, and he was still cold. Beside him Jack Hennings blew into his cupped hands, then tucked them under his armpits for warmth.
“I can’t believe it’s this fucking cold,” he complained.
“Tell me about it,” Ortiz mumbled. He leaned forward and wiped a space on the windshield clean where it had fogged over.
“I don’t see why we can’t just bust in and arrest him,” Hennings said.
“I told you why. My snitch said T.V.’d have it on him. I’m not going to risk missing it in a search and have that asshole laughing at me up and down the avenue.”
“I’d rather have every nigger in the city laughing at me than have to sit out here for another hour.”
“Besides, Kermit is probably in there with him, and I want to be sure where he is when we move.”
“Monroe’s a pussy,” Hennings said. Hennings was big and talked tough, but Ortiz doubted he’d be able to take Kermit Monroe one on one.
“If you think it’s so easy, Lone Ranger, why don’t you go over there all by yourself and call me when it’s over?”
Hennings grinned. “Don’t get so nervous, Bert. I know karate.”
“Oh, Jesus, that’s all I need.”
“Besides,” Hennings said, holding up the Magnum he had placed on the seat of the car, “the man won’t be doin’ much wrasslin’ with his balls in China. Now, if-”
Ortiz sat up. The door to Johnson’s house opened, and two men were illuminated by the porch light. From where they were sitting, it was easy to make out Johnson in his ankle-length fur coat.
“Let’s go,” he said, and the two policemen left the car. Johnson and Monroe talked as they walked to the curb. Ortiz and Hennings moved quickly, trying to attract as little attention as possible as they approached. Monroe turned his back to them and opened the passenger door for his boss. The howling wind muffled the sound of footsteps. Monroe turned and made a move for his gun. He stopped when he saw Hennings poised in a shooting stance.
“Freeze!” Hennings shouted.
Johnson stood with his hands half-raised and a stunned expression on his face. Then he bent his head and squinted into the dark and cold.
“Is that you, Ortiz?”
“Shut up and spread against the car.”
“What the fuck you doin’, man? I’m clean.”
“I said, against the car. Both of you.”
“I ain’t humiliatin’ myself in no-”
Ortiz hit Johnson in the solar plexus as hard as he could, then kicked him in the crotch. The pimp looked as if he were going to be sick. He slipped to his knees. A quick look of surprise crossed Hennings’s face. Monroe started to lower his hands.
“Just try it, fuck face. I’d love to waste you,” Ortiz said, swinging his weapon in Monroe’s direction. The big
