murdered, and he was not allowed the space and freedom to grieve. He himself was nearly killed, and no one looked for, much less found, the actual guilty party.
“The truth, as always, will ultimately win out. It sometimes comes in strange shapes and sizes, and this time it came walking in on four paws. But it is the truth, and by recognizing it, you can start the process of giving Richard Evans his life back.”
* * * * *
I’VE NEVER BEEN much of a fan of self-discipline.
It generally collides head on with my enjoyment drive and rarely survives the collision. It makes no sense to try to force myself to do something I don’t want to do, since if there were a good reason to do it, I would want to do it in the first place.
But we are now entering a phase where self-discipline must rear its ugly head. It is going to take anywhere from a week to a couple of months for Judge Gordon to announce his decision about a possible new trial for Richard. We must work hard toward preparing for that trial, while knowing that if it’s not granted, our efforts will be totally wasted.
The thing I can most liken it to is betting a parley, which is a bet that requires winning two games to be a winner. If one of those games has already been played but I don’t know the result, I would root for my team in the second game, knowing that it might be a waste of time because, if I lost the first game, the second one doesn’t matter.
I’m going to have to work to develop a compelling case for Richard, but if we didn’t win the hearing, then it won’t matter.
At times like this I am particularly glad I have Kevin as my partner. He will keep me moving forward, both because he is a more dedicated attorney than I and because he is a more optimistic one.
Kevin thinks our performance in the hearing was a winning one-a “slam down,” as he puts it. Kevin is not a sports fan in any sense, and what he means to say is “slam dunk.” Or maybe “grand slam.” Or “touchdown.” With Kevin it’s often hard to tell.
I arrange to meet him at the office at nine o’clock in the morning, which will give us an hour alone before Edna arrives. We spend only ten minutes rehashing the hearing; we did the best we could and just have to take it on faith that it was good enough.
So now we have to start investigating full-time, which would be easier if we had the slightest idea how to do that. All we know is that a supposedly dead Army guy tried to kill me and that the government tried to bug my conversations. The list of things we don’t know could fill the Library of Congress.
“It has to involve Richard’s job at customs,” Kevin says, advancing his theory. “The bad guys who tried to kill you must be smuggling contraband into the country, and they’re afraid you’re going to find out something that screws up their operation. The government is tapping your phone to learn whatever it is that you come up with.”
Neither Kevin nor I have any idea how to penetrate the customs operation at the Port of Newark. Keith Franklin, who told Karen he would call, has still not done so, and we’ll have to get her to contact him again.
Edna arrives and dives into the
About twenty minutes later the phone rings, and when Edna shows no inclination to answer it, Kevin does. After saying hello, he listens for a moment and hands me the phone. “Keith Franklin,” he says, a triumphant smile on his face.
“Mr. Franklin, I’ve been expecting your call.”
“Yes… I’m sorry it took so long. I wanted to make sure this was serious.”
“It’s very serious. That much I can assure you.”
“I know,” he says. “I saw the coverage of Richard’s hearing.”
“I believe that Richard’s work had something to do with the murder, but I need your help to find out exactly what.”
“I really can’t talk about it now… not here.”
“Where do you want to meet?”
He tells me he’ll meet me in Eastside Park at nine o’clock tonight, down by the baseball field. It is clear that he does not want to be seen or heard talking to me. That in itself may be very significant, somewhat significant, or of no significance at all. As with everything else involved with this case, I don’t have the slightest idea.
I agree, and he says, “Will you be alone?”
“Why is that important?”
“Karen told me I could trust you, so I will,” he says. “But only you.”
When I hang up I tell Kevin what was said. “I’m not crazy about the sound of that,” he says. “He could be setting you up.”
“Why would he? We approached him; he didn’t come to us. And Richard vouched for him; he said he’s a friend. There’s no reason to think he’s on the other side.”
“Except for the fact that so far everybody seems to be on the other side,” Kevin says.
“You mean like hit men and the United States government?”
He nods. “That’s what I mean.”
“But we’ve got Marcus. Advantage, us.”
Laurie’s reaction when I get home and bring her up to date is the same as Kevin’s. “Are you sure Marcus is watching out for you?” she asks.
I shrug. “He’s never let me down before. But I must tell you, I resent the fact that you think I need Marcus for protection. I can handle myself when things get rough.”
“Since when?”
“Since always,” I say. “You may not know this, but when I was a kid, and the other kids were at the library or the ballet, you know what I was doing? I was at home watching boxing on television.”
“Andy, you’re a great lawyer and a wonderful man, and I love you completely. But you’d be in major trouble if you got in the ring with the Olson twins.”
“What does that prove? There’s two of them.”
The situation is becoming very stressful for Laurie. She has to go back home in three days and can’t stand that she will be leaving me in what she considers a dangerous situation. In the old days, meaning last year, she would have been on the defense team and would be taking an active role. Now she’s on the sidelines watching, and having trouble with it.
I spend the rest of the day hanging out with Laurie, Tara, and Reggie, as appealing a threesome as ever existed. I’m not feeling overly nervous about my upcoming meeting in the darkened park. Since I requested the meeting, there’s little reason to consider Franklin a danger.
At nine o’clock I park my car by the baseball field and walk the few hundred yards across the field to the old pavilion. It’s empty now, but when I was younger it had a snack bar with some of the best french fries in history. My father would take me there after my team lost a game or I played badly, to cheer me up. I went there a lot.
I stand in front of the pavilion as instructed, waiting for Franklin. There is some moonlight, but he is only ten yards from me before I see him. He came from the opposite direction and is so quiet he must be wearing moccasins.
“Hello, Mr. Carpenter.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“How is Richard doing?”
“He’s okay, but he really needs your help.”
“I’m not sure what I can do.”
“I am operating under the premise that Richard was intended to be a murder victim, set up to look like he was perpetrating a murder-suicide. It could not have been to prevent him from revealing something he knew, since he would still be aware of it. It must have been to get him out of the way, so that he would not prevent something
