“That’s a good point, Robbie.” I had to keep him talking until I saw an opportunity to attack. “How did you convince Anthony Waltz to shoot himself?”
“Waltz was supposed to look like an accident, like the others. He was supposed to accidently shoot himself whilst cleaning his gun. But he knew. Somehow, he guessed why I was there that night, even though I told him I was doing a check because there were reports of a suspicious person in the building. I asked to see his gun, you know, told him someone had been breaking into people’s gun safes. Well, as soon as he had the safe open, I tried to grab him. He was quick and I wasn’t expecting it. He ruined everything. I had no choice. The stupid mess!”
“Ok. So that one got messed up. But what about the others? Jeffery Stone, your stepdad didn’t commit suicide, did he?”
“Of course he didn’t commit suicide! He was the first, so I gave him a chance. I gave him the opportunity to tell me the truth. I just wanted him to own the truth, you know? I wanted him to say he was sorry. I wanted him to own what he did to me.” Robbie softened. “I wanted to hear him say that he was sorry. But he wouldn’t say it. Jeffery Stone was a true villain. A true vulture. The world is a better place without him.”
“You were a little boy. You didn’t deserve to be raped.” I looked at him, trying to break through the anger and appeal to the broken child inside. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Of course it wasn’t my fault! That heartless prick.” He stood again. He was struggling to contain the anger, rage, and fury that was inside him. “He raped me, Jack. He did things… he did things to me that broke my soul… And then he got away with it. Not even a day in prison. Not even a day! He deserved to die. And so did his lawyers. All of them. They sat there while I testified and they laughed at me. It was one big defense lawyer get together, and they laughed at me. I was a boy. How could I be expected to testify? How could my evidence be expected to hold up against their intellectual power? Those men had years of experience in the courtroom, and I was just a boy. I couldn’t match them. They asked me so many questions that I became confused.”
“The system failed you.” I agreed. “And you blamed the defense lawyers for it.”
“I blamed everyone. Waltz and Hudson knew Jeffery Stone was guilty. I could see it in their eyes. They knew it, and still, they attacked me on the stand. That’s where the system fails. Nobody in the system was there to defend me.”
“You made your stepfather and his lawyers pay. But why Larry Fittler?” I asked.
“I was raped by my stepfather, and then I was raped by the justice system,” Robbie said. “Don’t you get it? I went to the police, I went to the courts, and the system failed me. How could I have evidence of that crime? How could I be expected to gain evidence of it? My only evidence was my testimony. I sat in that courtroom and was questioned by Jeffery Stone’s defense team. Anthony Waltz and Clarke Hudson, and their young assistant, Larry Fittler. They laughed as they questioned me. They laughed! Of course, I couldn’t get all my answers straight! I was ten years old, and that prick raped me! How was I supposed to react? And they were laughing at me in court!”
“What did your mother do?”
“Nothing! She was obsessed with Jeffery’s money! She sold me out. How could I live like that? She sent me to live with my grandparents after I made the accusations. She wouldn’t believe me! Nobody believed me!”
“Anyone else on that list?”
“Fittler was it. He was the last one on my list. He was a junior assistant to Waltz for my trial. After that, I was out. I was gone. But you had to ruin it, didn’t you, Jack? I had a plan to skip town to Alaska and lay low for a year.” He moved closer. Close enough to lunge at. “Everything was perfect, and I was about to start packing.”
“Was it worth it?”
Robbie’s eyes closed briefly as his mind took him back to a moment of power, followed by peace. He exhaled. “Absolutely. They deserved to pay for what they did to me. I deserved justice.”
At that moment, there was a loud knock at the front door. Robbie was distracted. I saw my chance, a fleeting moment of possibility.
I jumped up, blocking out the pain throbbing in my head and lunged for the gun, flinging the broken piece of porcelain in Robbie’s face at the same time.
But Robbie’s reflexes were good, his eyes were open, and he was ready. I pushed at his arm, throwing him into the sofa.
He raised his hand, firing the gun on impulse.
Five shots were fired as he fell backwards.
And I felt one of the shots nick my thigh.
Chapter 33
