Cruel and Unusual - Cornwell Patricia - Страница 51
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“My fingerprints?” I said to Marino the instant he appeared at my door. “What the hell is this business about fingerprints belonging to me?”
“Easy, Doc.”
“I might just file suit this time. This has gone too far.”
“I don't think you want to be filing anything right now.“ He got out his cigarettes as he followed me toll kits; where the evening paper was spread out on the table. “Ben Steven is behind this.”
“Doc, I think what you watt to do is listen to what I've got to say.”
“He's got to be the source of the leak about bullets -“
“Doc. Goddam it, shut up.”
I sat down. “My ass is in the fire, too,” he said. “I'm working cases with you: and now suddenly you've become an element. Yes, we did find an envelope in Susan's house. It was in a dresser drawer under some clothes. There were three one-hundred-dollar bills inside it. Vander processed the envelope and several latents popped up. Two of them are yours. Your prints, like mine and those of a lot of other investigators, are in AFIS for exclusionary purposes, in case we ever do a dumbshit thing leave our prints at a scene.”
“I did not leave prints at any scene. There's a logic explanation for this. There has to be. Maybe the envelope was one I touched at some point at the office or the morgue, and Susan took it home.”
“It's definitely not an office envelope,” Marino said. “It's about twice as wide as a legal-size envelope of stiff, shiny black paper. There's no writing on it.”
I looked at him in disbelief as it dawned on me. “The scarf I gave her.”
“What scarf?”
“Susan's Christmas present from me was a red silk scarf I bought in San Francisco. What you're describing is the envelope it was in, a glossy black envelope made of cardboard or stiff paper. The flap closed with a-small gold seal. I wrapped the, present myself. Of course my prints would be on it.”
“So what about the three hundred dollars?” he said, avoiding my eyes.
I don't know anything about any money.”
“I'm saying, why was it in the envelope you gave her?”
“Maybe because saw wanted to hide her cash in something. The envelope was handy. Maybe she didn't want to throw it away. I don't know. I had no control over what she dad with something I gave her.”
“Did anybody see you give her the scarf?” he asked.
“No. Her husband wasn't home when she opened my Yeah, well, the only gift from you anyone seemed to know about was a pink poinsettia. Don't sound like Susan said a word about you giving her a scarf.”
“For God's sake, she was wearing the scarf when she was shot, Marino.”
“That don't tell us where it came from.”
“You're about to move into the accusatory stage,” I snapped.
“I'm not accusing you of nothing. Don't you get it? This is the way it goes, goddam it. You want me to baby you and pat your hand so some other cop can bust inhere and broadside you with questions like this?”
He got up and began pacing the kitchen, staring at tire floor, his hands in his pockets.
“Tell me about Donahue,” I said quietly.
“He was shot in his ride, probably early this morning. According to his wife, he left the house around sixteen. Around one-thirty this afternoon, his Thunderbird` was found parked at Deep Water Terminal with him in it.”
“I read that much in the paper.”
“Look. The less we talk about it, the better.”
“Why? Are reporters going to imply that I killed him, too.
“Where was you at six-fifteen this morning, Doc?”
“I was getting ready to leave my house and drive to Washington.”
“You got any witnesses that will verify you couldn't have been cruising around Deep Water Terminal? It's not very far from the Medical Examiner's Office, you know. Maybe two minutes.”
“That's absurd.”
'Get used to it. This is just the beginning. Wait, until Patterson sinks his teeth into you.”
Before Roy Patterson had run for Commonwealth Attorney, he had been one of the city's more combative, egotistical criminal lawyers. Back then he had never appreciated what I had to say; since in the majority of cases, medical examiner testimony does not cause jurors to think more kindly of the defendant.
“I ever told you how much Patterson hates your guts?”
Marino went on. “You embarrassed him when he was a defense attorney. You sat there cool as a cat in your sharp suits and made him look like an idiot.”
“He made himself look like an idiot. All I did was answer his questions:” “Not to mention, your old boyfriend Bill Boltz was one of his closest pals, and I don't eves need to go into that.”
“I wish you wouldn't.”
“I just know Patterson's going to go after you. Shit, I bet he's a happy man right now.”
“Marino, you're red as a beet. For God's sake, don't go stroking out on me.”
“Let's get back to this scarf you said you gave to Susan:” “I said I gave to Susan?”
“What was the name of the store in San francisco that sold it to you?” he asked.
“It wasn't a store.” He glanced sharply at the as he continued to pace.
“It was a street market. Lots of booths and stalls selling art, handmade things. Like Covent Garden,” I explained.
“You got a receipt?”
“I would have had no reason to save it.”
“So you don't know the name of the booth or whatever. So there's no way to verify that you bought a scarf from some artist type who uses these glassy black envelopes.”
“I can't verify it.”
“He paced some more and I stared out the window. Clouds drifted past oblong and the dark shapes of trees moved in the wind: I got up to close the blinds.
Marino stopped pacing. “Doc, I'm going to need to go through your financial records.”
I did not say anything.
“I've got to verify that you haven't made any large withdrawals of cash in recent Months.”
I remained silent.
“Doc, you haven't; have you?”
I got up from the table, my pulse pounding.
“You can talk to my attorney,” I said.
After Marino left, I went upstairs to the cedar closet where I stored my private papers and began collecting bank statements, tax returns; and various accounting records. I thought of all the defense attorneys in Richmond who would probably be delighted if I were locked up or exiled for the rest of my days. I was sitting in the kitchen making notes on a legal pad when my doorbell rang: I let Benton Wesley and Lucy in, and I knew instantly by their silence that it was unnecessary to tell them what was going on.
“Where's Connie?” I asked wearily.
“She`s hoping to stay through the New Year with her family in Charlottesville.”
“I'm going back to your study, Aunt Kay;' Lucy said without hugging me or smiling. She left with her suitcase.
“Marino wants to go through my financial records,” I said to Wesley as he followed me into the living room.
“Ben Stevens is setting me up. Personnel files and copies of memos are missing from the office, and he's hoping it will appear that I took them. And Roy Patterson, according to Marino, is a happy man these days. That's the update of the hour.”
“Where do you keep the Scotch?”
“I keep the good stuff in the hutch over mere. Glasses are in the bar.”
“I don't want to drink your good stuff.”
“Well, I do.”
I began building a fire.
“I called your deputy chief as I was driving in. Firearms has already taken a look at the slugs that were in Donahue's brain. Winchester one-fifty-grain, lead, unjacketed, twenty-two-caliber. Two of them: One went in his left cheek and traveled up through the skull, the other was a tight contact at the nape of his neck.”
“Fired from the same weapon that killed the other two?”
“Yes. Do you want ice?”
“Please.”
I closed the screen and returned the poker to its stand. “I don't suppose any feathers were recovered from the scene or from-Donahue's body.”
“Not that I know Of. It's clear that his assailant was standing outside the car and shot him through the open driver's window. That doesn't mean this individual wasn't inside with him earlier, but I don't think so. My guess is Donahue was supposed to meet someone at Deep Water Terminal in the parking lot. When this person arrived, Donahue rolled down his window and that was it. Did you have any luck with Downey?” He handed coke my drink and settled on the couch.
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