‘What the hell is this all about?’ asked Kenney.
‘Maybe you want to tell us, Tobin?’ asked McCabe.
‘Whoa. Wait a minute. Let’s just back up here. Are you telling me I’m a suspect in all this?’
‘Suspect? Nobody said anything about suspect,’ said Maggie. ‘We’re just having a little conversation. Checking on the whereabouts of the people who knew Katie. The people she trusted.’
‘Am I under arrest or something?’
‘Come on, Tobin. Relax,’ Maggie said softly. ‘Like I said, this is just an interview, a little chat. That’s all.’
‘So maybe you can tell us what happened that night,’ McCabe said. It was his turn now.
‘What night?’ Kenney sounded worried. Defensive.
‘Well, the night Katie disappeared, of course.’
Kenney’s eyes darted back and forth between them. He didn’t say anything. McCabe figured he was thinking about lawyering up, and that’d be the end of the interview. If he was really innocent, though, he might keep talking just to prove it. ‘You got a girlfriend, Tobin?’
‘No… yeah. Well, not really. There’s this woman I see from time to time,’ said Tobin. ‘I don’t know what that has to do with any of this.’
‘Were you seeing her that night?’
‘The night Katie was killed?’
‘No. Not the night she was killed.’ McCabe leaned in toward Kenney, forcing the younger man to look up at him. ‘We can talk about that night later.’ He was speaking quietly. Calmly. One friend to another. Aware of the recorder and its little green light, there was no threat in his voice. All the threat was in his eyes, which bore in on Kenney. ‘Why don’t you just tell us about the night she disappeared? Where you were. What you were doing.’
Kenney slid his chair back an inch or two away, avoiding McCabe’s gaze, looking out toward the boat in the yard. ‘Jesus, I don’t know.’ Pause. ‘Let me think. No. Wait.’ Pause. ‘I do remember what I was doing. Yes, I do. I remember the teachers talking about Katie’s disappearance the next day at school when she didn’t show up. When she didn’t show up for practice, that’s when I got really worried. I knew she might cut her classes, but Katie would never miss practice. Never. Not unless something was really wrong. The night before,’ Kenney said, ‘I went to the movies.’
‘The movies?’ asked Maggie, with just the slightest touch of well-practiced disbelief in her voice.
‘Yes. The movies.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes. Alone — but I can prove I was there. I ran into some people I know. Another teacher at the high school, Ellen Bodine, and her husband. I’ve probably still got the ticket stub.’ Kenney seemed relieved by his response. It was as though he’d solved a difficult problem and now things were going to be alright.
‘What did you see?’ asked McCabe.
‘You mean the movie? Cinderella Man.’ There was no hesitation.
‘How’d you like it?’ asked Maggie. ‘Is it as good as they say?’ The irrelevance of her question confused Kenney, which, McCabe knew, was Maggie’s intention. ‘Is Russell Crowe as good as they say?’ she continued. ‘And Renee Zellweger?’
‘Yeah. It’s good,’ said Kenney. ‘They’re good.’ His eyes were darting between them.
‘What time was the show? What time did it let out?’ McCabe asked.
‘I don’t know. It probably started at seven or seven fifteen.’
‘So it let out around nine?’
‘Yeah. Around then.’ A drop of sweat rolled down one of the lenses on Kenney’s glasses. He took them off, pulled up a dry bit of T-shirt, and wiped off the moisture.
‘So what did you do then?’ asked Maggie.
‘I came home. Had something to eat. I picked up a pizza at Torrelli’s on India Street. I graded papers for a while.’
‘All by yourself?’
‘Yes, of course, all by myself.’
‘Then what?’ asked McCabe.
‘Then I went to bed.’
‘Alone?’
Kenney looked at McCabe and didn’t say anything.
‘You went to bed alone?’ McCabe asked again.
‘Yes, alone.’
McCabe decided to take a chance. If Kenney lawyered up, then fuck it. ‘Y’know, Tobin, I really don’t like it when people bullshit me. I… really… really… don’t like it.’
Kenney looked up. ‘I’m not bullshitting anyone.’
‘Y’know what, Tobin? I think you are. Y’know what else? I think I can prove it.’
There was fear in Kenney’s eyes. ‘Prove what? You can’t prove anything.’
‘You weren’t alone that evening, were you, Tobin? In fact, I’ve got a witness who says as much. In fact, my witness will swear to it. Maybe you started out grading papers all by yourself, but then somebody stopped by a little later. Didn’t she, Tobin? Somebody named Katie Dubois? Isn’t that right, Tobin?’ McCabe was using Kenney’s first name over and over, hitting him with it, like a boxer jabbing lightly to the face. It was a technique he’d learned a long time ago. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. ‘Tobin? Are you listening to me, Tobin?’
Kenney sat still. He was clearly frightened. He didn’t say anything for a minute. Finally he asked in a small voice, ‘What sort of witness?’
‘A witness who saw and heard Katie Dubois leaving this house the night she disappeared. Now why don’t you just come clean and tell us about it, Tobin.’
Kenney sat stone still except for a little nervous fluttering of his eyelashes.
‘Maybe Katie was a little upset when she arrived?’ McCabe started in again. ‘Maybe she told you her boyfriend was cheating on her? Maybe you figured she needed a little comforting? Is that what happened, Tobin? Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re a nice guy, isn’t that right, Tobin? Comforting pretty little sixteen- year-old girls is right up your alley, isn’t it? A little comforting? Then maybe a little hugging?’ Then McCabe’s voice dropped the teasing tone and became hard. Cold. ‘Who knows? A little hugging might just lead to a little fucking, too. Isn’t that right, Tobin? Isn’t that what happened? You fucked her and then you killed her?’
In his mind’s eye McCabe saw Kenney with his arms around Katie Dubois. Kissing her, his hand running down her back, slipping under her skirt, pulling her pants down — but it wasn’t Katie he saw Kenney kissing and fondling. It was Casey, and he had to close his eyes and force the image from his mind.
‘That’s not true!’ Kenney’s voice was nearly hysterical. ‘I didn’t fuck her! I didn’t kill her! That’s not how it happened!’
Maggie asked, softly, ‘That’s not how what happened, Tobin?’
‘Oh, I’ll bet you’re just one hell of a horny dude, aren’t you, Tobin?’ said McCabe, his voice quiet, his eyes full of threat. ‘The kind of guy who maybe thinks with his dick instead of his brain? Now why don’t you stop the bullshit and tell us what really happened that night.’
‘Yes. No.’ Kenney’s voice came out a hollow whisper.
‘Look at me, Tobin,’ Maggie said, as gentle as a mother, her face near his. ‘If you tell us what happened, we can help you. If you don’t, then we can’t.’
‘Yes, she came over,’ Kenney said, ‘but, no, no, no, I didn’t kill her.’
‘You didn’t kill her?’
‘No, I didn’t kill her. I didn’t kill her.’
‘You didn’t kill her?’ McCabe was in his face now. ‘You just fucked her, is that it? Fucked her to comfort her? Fucked her to make her feel better about her boyfriend screwing her over? Is that what happened, Tobin? Hey, Tobin, you know as well as I do, fucking a sixteen-year-old student can land a teacher in a whole pile of shit. Did you panic? Is that what happened, Tobin? You fucked her and then you killed her because you panicked?’
‘I didn’t fuck her,’ said Kenney, his voice a soft wail, ‘and I didn’t kill her.’ He was rocking back and forth, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest.
‘Well, why don’t you tell us exactly what you did do, Tobin? Because I can promise you, one way or the other, we’re gonna find out, and when we do, we’re gonna fry your ass.’
