Blind Justice (31 page)
I THOUGHT I’D lost consciousness. I was just numb. My head was bonging so loudly, I thought it might crack. My lungs started to fill up with smoke.
And I felt the heat of the fire.
The place was in flames.
Instinctively, I thrashed out with my legs, trying to move away from the danger. I moved only a little.
I thrashed some more and turned in a half circle. And came face to face with Benton Tolletson. He was covered with blood. His eyes, though open, seemed sightless. His body twitched in some wild paroxysm, as if he were trying to escape his own body.
Sensing the flames growing hotter, I tried to move again. It was useless. All I did was roll over on my back.
Black smoke swirled around me.
And then, out of the smoke, she appeared.
Heather Hazelton.
I could tell it was Heather only because of the hair and the dangling pentagram necklace. Her face was another matter. It was scowling and horrific. Maybe the very face Howie Patino had seen on the night Heather murdered Rae. She raised her hand. In it was the silver knife.
What I heard next sounded like a gunshot. It was hard to tell with the
whoosh
of flames all around me. But Heather Hazelton went down.
whoosh
of flames all around me. But Heather Hazelton went down.
Stuck where I was, I couldn’t see what was happening. My eyes started to burn, and I was sure I would soon be dead of smoke inhalation.
A knife flashed over my head.
I thought it would find my chest.
Instead, it cut the cords that held me. I strained to see who it was. I saw an unfamiliar face, an older man, who said, “Let’s get out!”
I was aching all over but managed to struggle to my feet. My arms were still cuffed behind me. The man who freed me grabbed my shirt and led me out of the doorway, through the big hall, out the open front doors, and into the night.
I sucked in the fresh air, coughed so hard I doubled over, and went down on one knee.
“Easy there,” the man said. “Take it easy.”
After a minute or so, I regained some equilibrium. The man was standing a few feet away, looking at the house on fire,
admiring
it.
admiring
it.
“Morris,” I said.
“I told ’em,” he said, and then he laughed. “They didn’t think I could do it!” He clapped his hands in applause for himself. I saw the butt of a revolver sticking out of his pants.
In the distance came the sound of a siren.
“They’re coming,” Morris said with a smile.
“What are you going to do?”
“Wait for ’em, of course. I want ’em to know I did it!”
The cops took both of us in. They put me into a cell by myself, and a little while later, sent in a tray with a frozen chicken sandwich, a carton of milk, and an apple on it.
I sucked on the sandwich and drank the milk.
I was in no hurry to get out of there. The cell offered me a respite, which I desperately needed after everything that went down. I could spend the night and then figure out what to do.
After finishing my sumptuous meal, I lay on the cot and looked at the dull illumination of the ceiling. For what it was worth, I said, “Thank you” into the air.
The heavy door at the end of the hall swung open, and I heard footsteps coming my way. Two people.
I looked up and saw Sylvia Plotzske next to the officer on duty.
“Let me in,” Sylvia said.
“I’m not supposed—” the officer started to say.
“Just do it, Mark, and leave me with him. I want to question him alone.”
The authoritative tone in her voice was surprising. I’d never heard her like that before. Apparently, neither had the officer. He unlocked my cell, and Sylvia walked in. He then locked us in together and left.
“You look terrible,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“You want to tell me what happened?”
“Do you know?”
“Tolletson’s dead.”
“He looked it.”
“Along with Mr. and Mrs. Hazelton.”
“Wow. A clean sweep.”
“What can you tell me?”
“Sylvia, it’s going to blow your mind.”
I told her the story.
When I finished, she shook her head almost like she had expected it. “I knew Tolletson was into something bizarre. I saw a pattern in the way he handled things relating to the Hazeltons. Refusing to file against Darcy, for one thing, on an assault. The evidence was pretty convincing, but he got rid of it. Then there was the lifestyle . . .”
“I got to ride in his Cadillac.”
“His new one. He gets a new one every year. Or did.”
“And Hazelton paid for it all. In return, Tolletson kept the Hazelton family legally safe.”
“That’s it.”
“And kept people from knowing what they were into.”
“That too.”
“Sylvia,” I said, “what do you know about the innocence of Howie Patino?”
She suddenly looked vulnerable behind her severe glasses. “A lot.”
“Tell me.”
Sylvia sighed and spoke quietly. “Howie happened to be the perfect victim, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Tolletson took over the case from me when you didn’t make a deal, and he made sure you lost.”
“How?”
“You remember that supplemental medical report, the one that said Rae Patino was pregnant?”
“Of course I do. So did the jury.”
“I planted it.”
That’s when I stood up. I could not believe what I was hearing. I ran my fingers through my hair, shaking my head.
Sylvia continued, “I did it during one of the court recesses. It wasn’t hard to do. Tolletson told me the best time to do it.”
“Why, Sylvia?”
“I’m a night-school grad, Jake, not a fancy Harvard type. I wasn’t going to any big firm. But I was going to make it. I was going to climb. Tolletson picked me because of that, I’m sure. And he had me convinced your client might walk and that we had to make sure we nailed him.”
“Well, you did. Now what?”
“I tell what I know. He’ll be out on a habeas in no time.”
I looked at her. She was sitting very still. “But that’ll be it for you as a lawyer.”
“I know.”
I sat back down across from her. “Why are you doing this?”
She looked at me squarely. “I haven’t been able to sleep much. I guess I just want to be able to sleep again. Especially after Delliplane.”
“My witness? Was Tolletson behind that too?”
“I think so. I think if I dig a little bit, I’ll be able to connect him.”
Then I did something I had never done to a prosecutor in my life. I reached out and patted her hand.
We sat silent for a few moments as I thought. “Sylvia, there may be another way.” She regarded me quizzically. I said, “But first we have to do one thing.”
“What?”
The next day Sylvia had Darcy Hazelton brought in for -questioning.
He was, at first, combative. Having me in the same conference room as Sylvia and Detective Garth Watts of homicide didn’t sit well with him. But it didn’t take long to break him down. He
wanted
to spill it.
wanted
to spill it.
Yes, he confirmed, his stepmother was the one. Rae was Heather’s surrogate since Heather was well past child-bearing years. The baby Rae was carrying was a boy, fathered by Warren Hazelton, conceived artificially.
“But the witch wanted a daughter,” Darcy spat as he recounted it. “Had some crazy idea about raising a supreme goddess or something. When it turned out to be a boy, Heather told her to get rid of it. Rae refused an abortion unless she got more money.”
And that was why Rae ended up dead. Darcy heard Heather spilling it all out to his father one night. Rae was holding them both up, Heather said. Threatening to go to the media. Heather went to see Rae one night to have it out—the night Howie came home.
Hearing him pound on the door, Heather grabbed a knife from the kitchen. She told Rae to get rid of him and hid in the bathroom. While Howie was pouring his heart out to Rae, Heather listened, then finally acted.
Heather was good with a knife. She got Rae and Howie both. Howie apparently passed out immediately. That gave her an idea. She gave Rae more whacks, wiped her prints off the knife, and went out the bathroom window—without her clothes. Soaked with blood, she balled them up and held them as she fled.
“One question,” Sylvia said. “Why didn’t Heather put the knife in Howie’s hand, for fingerprints?”
Darcy shrugged. I said, “Howie may have been coming around, and she had to get out, or Heather may have thought one step ahead of the cops. Howie’s prints could actually have bolstered a story of a setup. Could have argued the knife
was
put in his hand. With no prints, it looks like Howie was careful
not
to incriminate himself.”
was
put in his hand. With no prints, it looks like Howie was careful
not
to incriminate himself.”
“That’s it,” Darcy said. “That sounds like Heather. She was a smooth one.”
“Darcy,” I said, “were they really into devil worship?”
Darcy laughed scornfully. “I guess they’re getting their chance now, huh?”
Just before leaving Hinton, I met with Sylvia in her office. She told me I could plead to a misdemeanor DUI. I’d go into an alcohol program, which was fine with me. I needed it.
Then I told her I was going to take on the murder defense of Edmund Morris. Pro bono.
Sylvia smiled. “Thank you,” she said.
“No need,” I answered. No one would ever know about Sylvia’s planting of the medical report, at least from me. I figured it would be worth it to have a good prosecutor in the system, one who would not turn a blind eye toward justice.
AFTER HOWIE’S RELEASE, he moved back in with Fred and Janet and Brian. He took a job with Fred’s outfit, and last time I heard from him, he and Fred were planning to take a little camping trip with Brian next summer. “I’m going to show him how to make knots,” Howie said. “Remember?”
He also told me that from the moment he saw his son again he hasn’t had another dream of the devil. He says that God took the dreams away so he could be a father to his son.
And Brian
is
his son. A blood test confirmed it.
is
his son. A blood test confirmed it.
I patched things up with Barb and Rick. They didn’t move east after all, and that has made my relationship with Mandy a whole lot easier. Mandy and I ate at Chippers again the other night, and she showed me her latest horse drawings. A few of them were actually looking like honest-to-goodness four-legged animals.
Partway through her liver and onions, Mandy said, “Daddy, you look happy.”
“I am.”
“You’re a whole lot happier than you used to be.”
“I know.”
“How come?”
There were two reasons that shot into my mind.
The first one happened one week after the explosion in Hinton. I was back in my apartment, cleaning things out. I found three old bottles of booze and took them outside and tossed them in the Dumpster. It felt good and clean and final, though I knew it would always be a fight. But I've been going to the meetings, regular, and have not had a drink since that day.
The second one happened on a Sunday afternoon. I showed up, unannounced, at the guest house where Lindsay lives. When she opened the door I handed her the copy of
Penseés.
Penseés.
"I wanted to return it," I said.
She smiled and gave it back to me. "I got it for you."
I held the book in both hands for a second, looking at the cover, running my thumbs over it. Finally, I said, "Rember once I told you I didn't believe, because the world had too much chaos?"
"I remember," she said.
"I'd like to talk to you more about that."
"I think that can be arranged." We stood there silently for a moment, my pulse making a drum set of my ears.
Lindsay said, "Remember when you told me you might kiss me for all it's worth?"
The drums went crazy.
"Now would be the time," she said.
And it was. Oh yes, it was.
The memories gave way to Mandy's voice, in Chippers, saying, "Daddy?"
I looked up. "Hm?"
"How come?"
"How come what?"
"How come you look
happy
?"
happy
?"
I reached over and took her hand. A third reason, the best reason of all, was staring me right in the face. "That's easy," I said. "Because you're with me. And there's nothing better in the whole, wide world."
Other books
The Last Command by Zahn, Timothy
The Bottom by Howard Owen
The Russlander by Sandra Birdsell
Kiss in the Dark by Marcia Lynn McClure
Her Venice Affair (The Albury Affairs) by OW, Christina
Carnal Ecstasy by Lissa Matthews
The Starkin Crown by Kate Forsyth