Eight in the Box (20 page)

CHAPTER 61

I
t was eight o’clock when Richter stepped off the bus,
wishing he never had to ride the T again. He needed to be alone, not on a crowded bus. He wanted to get home so he could sit in the dark and collect his thoughts.

Then she tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir.”

Richter wasn’t in the mood to talk with anyone, to be nice to them. He didn’t have the patience for it. He turned to face her. The juror. He couldn’t remember her name, but she was a juror from a trial he’d lost several weeks earlier. His favorite juror, or so he’d thought. What did she want?

“Can I help you?” Richter asked, acting confused, as though he didn’t know who she was.

“Don’t you remember me? I sat on your jury a while back.”

“Ah, yes.” Richter thought about the case. The defendant was one of the major dealers in Grove Hall. “How are you doing?” he said in a forced, pleasant voice. Then he thought, maybe it was fate that had brought the two of them together. This was his chance to find out what they’d been thinking when they’d voted to acquit. “What was your name again?” Richter asked.

“Emily. Emily Knight.”

“Nice to see you again, Ms. Knight.”

“Do you mind if I walk with you?” she asked.

“As long as you don’t mind cutting through the woods.”

“Not if I’m with you,” she said, smiling. “I usually walk all the way around them. They give me the creeps.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He’d spent weeks preparing for that trial to make sure he’d get a conviction. She and her fellow jurors had acquitted the defendant after only fifteen minutes of deliberation.

As they entered the woods Richter understood why she would think they were creepy, especially at night. The darkness and the leaves on the trees and thick shrubs made it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. They walked carefully along an asphalt path. There was no light except that provided by the moon.

“I’m glad I ran into you tonight,” the juror said. “I wanted to speak with you about the trial. I feel really bad about what happened. You did such a nice job. I could tell you’d put a lot of work into it. You were so upset when you heard our verdict. I waited to see you afterward, but you never came out of the courtroom.”

“I took the back stairs right up to my office.” Richter felt the first twinges of anger. She’d put a violent criminal back on the street.

“I wanted to let you know how we reached our verdict,” she said. “The other five jurors didn’t believe the police officers had actually seen the defendant hand the drugs to the other man. I believed it, though.”

Richter’s anger fanned out and turned hot in his stomach. All along he had thought that none of the jurors, including Emily Knight, believed the officers. “Why did you vote to acquit him if you believed he did it?”

“I held out as long as I could. Then I gave in to the pressure from the others.”

“You held out as long as you could?” His anger and frustration erupted. “You deliberated for fifteen minutes before lunch arrived and you had a verdict as soon as you finished eating. What did you do, vote to acquit once you found out they weren’t serving dessert?”

“That’s not fair,” she said, her voice cracking as if she was going to cry. “You don’t know how hard it was being the only one who thought he was guilty while everyone else was convinced that the police were lying. It didn’t help that there were no fingerprints or DNA linking him to the drugs.”

“No fingerprints or DNA, in a street-level drug case? You actually thought we should have submitted the drugs for DNA testing?” He was dumbfounded.

“That can happen. I’ve seen it on TV,” she said. “People always leave some biological or trace evidence when they commit a crime.”

“I can’t believe people watch so much television that it’s come to this.”

“Nobody’s blaming you. It’s not your job to test the evidence. And besides, what’s the big deal? All he did was sell one bag of heroin. It’s not like he hurt anyone.”

“It’s not like he hurt anyone?” Richter asked. Her eyes were wide with fright.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to calm him down. “I didn’t mean to upset you. He’s just a poor inner-city kid trying to make a living.”

She looked ahead, probably to see how far it was to the edge of the woods. Richter knew there was nothing but a long dark path.

“What if I told you that that ‘poor inner-city kid’ raped and killed a woman when he was sixteen years old just for shits and giggles? And what if I told you he only went to jail until he turned twenty-one?” He moved closer to her. “And what if I told you that he’s the main suspect in the murders of two of his competitors in the drug trade, but no one will come forward to testify because everyone’s terrified of him? And what if I told you that a drug conviction was the only way we were going to get him off the streets, at least for a couple of years?” Richter was now within inches of her face.

“You’re scaring me. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know he’d hurt anyone before, none of us did. If we’d known all that we would have convicted him.”

“You’re not supposed to know that. You were supposed to do your job. You knew he sold those drugs, but you let him get away with it because you were too lazy to do your job. You stupid bitch, you let a murderer go free.”

He could see terror in her eyes. She must have known she couldn’t calm him down. She turned away from him and stumbled down the path. She’d taken only a couple of steps before Richter caught her by the hair and dragged her backward. She started to scream. His first impulse was just to shut her up with a chin lock. Instinctively he spun her around and took ahold of her neck.

Richter lifted her in the air as she pounded at his arms. He held her tight. She was trying to speak, to beg or maybe to scream for help. But no words came. Richter watched her face as she struggled to breathe, but she was losing her strength. Finally her body relaxed.

He had to decide what to do with her. He sat her on the ground with her back against a tree, the moon lighting up her face. Her milky white skin glowed in the moonlight. She had a pretty face, not beautiful, but certainly pretty. He touched her skin. So smooth. So young. Richter couldn’t just leave her in the woods. She deserved better than that.

CHAPTER 62

R
ichter went to the back of the car and popped the trunk.
“What are you staring at?” he asked Emily Knight. Her eyes were fixed open, gazing up at him. “It was your fault I had to kill you and you’re looking at me like I’m to blame. You’re lucky I came back for you.”

He took her by the belt and jacket collar, lifting her out of the trunk like the bales of hay he used to haul on his grandfather’s farm. Emily seemed heavier than the hay, and she was more awkward.

Richter was careful not to hit Emily’s head on anything. He carried her through the kitchen without turning on any lights.

Richter placed Emily on the couch and sat next to her, looking into her eyes, blank and cold. “I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am in you,” he said.

Richter stood up and began pacing in front of the couch. “Do you realize how much aggravation you’re causing me? I need to figure out what to do with you. I didn’t want to leave you in the woods, but I can’t just bury you in the backyard either. If you had just done your job and followed the evidence, neither of us would be in this situation.”

But then Richter realized what he would do with Emily Knight. He would arrange it so that Emily would never let him down again. Richter lifted her up and placed her in his empty refrigerator. She would be fine in there while he made the arrangements.

But he needed to take his time and do things right.

CHAPTER 63

T
he late-spring light filtered in through the tall windows facing
Huntington Avenue. The annual pottery sale at the Massachusetts College of Art was bustling with shoppers. Andi Norton browsed around from table to table hoping to find a gift for Connie. Andi and Monica Hughes had snuck out for some shopping on their lunch hour. Andi watched as Monica, two tables ahead of her, bought an oversized mug that came complete with hot herbal tea. Andi caught up with her and picked up a piece at the end of the table. “What do you think about this one?”

Monica studied it, taking a cautious sip of her tea. The mug was so big Andi lost sight of her face for a second. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, a pencil holder, a coffee mug, a soup bowl. It’s whatever you want it to be.”

“Is Connie going to like it?”

“I hope so. It’s handmade by a real artist. Who wouldn’t like it?”

“Connie.”

“Right. What the hell am I going to get him?”

“I don’t know, but whatever it is, I don’t think you’re going to find it here. Why are you getting him a gift? Is it his birthday?”

“No. I just thought I’d get him something to thank him for all he’s done to help me. He’s given me two trials. And I’ll be second-seating him on the Jesse Wilcox trial.” At the next table, students were selling massive bowls full of homemade chili. “Who could eat all that?” Andi asked. “It’s the size of a serving bowl.”

“Connie could probably eat it, if he ate anything but those disgusting lunches he brings every day.”

“That’s it. I’ll get him one of these bowls. Without the chili.”

“What’s someone like Connie going to do with a beautiful piece of pottery?”

“Eat his family-sized servings of oatmeal. This is the perfect size.” Andi paid for the bowl and the young art student began carefully wrapping it in old newspaper. “You put aside that tough-guy image and he’s a big teddy bear,” Andi said as they waited for the young woman.

“I hope it works out for you.”

“What’s the deal with Nick? He seems to be stalking you.”

“I think he’s cute.”

“Are you serious? He’s ridiculous, following you everywhere.”

“I don’t mind him. He keeps asking me out and I keep putting him off. One of us will eventually get promoted or transferred. Then I’ll give him a shot.”

“What are you thinking? He isn’t ready for a serious relationship.”

“What makes you think I’m looking for a serious relationship?” Monica winked.

“You’re crazy.” Andi laughed. “What about Brendan? He’s a nice guy.”

“Not my type. Besides, he already has a girlfriend.”

“Allegedly.”

They both laughed.

The student placed the wrapped bowl in a used plastic supermarket bag and handed it to Andi. “We’d better get going. We’ve already been gone for an hour. Nick might have a panic attack if he’s away from you too long.”

CHAPTER 64

R
ichter’s headache had dulled, but it was still there, lingering
behind his eyes. The stiffness in his neck was there too. He never should have agreed to take
her
out for a day of shopping. Too domestic. Big mistake. That must have been what got her talking about their long-term plans together. Now she wanted to go away for a long weekend in Maine. Soon she’d be talking about moving in together. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now. He was too close. Richter needed her, but he didn’t want things to get too complicated. He had agreed with her weekend getaway plan just to shut her up. He would come up with an excuse to get out of it later. He needed to put up with her a little while longer. Then he could get rid of her.

Richter put his window down as soon as he started the car. They had just left a discount women’s clothing warehouse and were headed for a store that specialized in knickknacks and home accessories. Both stores were always packed with women looking for bargains. All the different perfumes in the air were overwhelming. Throw in some potpourri, scented candles and poorly ventilated stores, and his headache would be raging again.

He only went to places like this when forced by a woman. He remembered being led into a communal dressing room as a child. There he was, staring up at the crotches of overweight, scary women who undressed in front of him as if he weren’t even there. He would feel dirty for hours afterward.

Richter was glad they were driving now. The cool air filled the car as they drove on the highway. It was almost June and the weather still hadn’t warmed up consistently. It had been eighty degrees two days earlier, when a cold front came in from Canada, bringing with it a steady downpour of rain. Richter leaned his head toward the open window, allowing the rain to cool him off.

“Could you close your window, please?” the woman asked. “It’s freezing in here and my bags are getting wet in the backseat.”

“Sorry. I’ve got this terrible headache and the cool air helps.” Richter had to put up with her. She was very important, after all. He suspected the police profile would be of a loner, a man who had difficulty forming relationships with women. Richter had to prove that he was at least involved with someone.

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” the woman said. She seemed genuinely concerned. “Let’s just go home. I can go shopping some other time.”

“Don’t be silly. We only have one stop left. Then I can go home and take it easy.”

“But if you don’t feel good—”

“I’m fine. I’ll check to see if they have aspirin while you shop. We’re almost there anyway.”

“Are you sure? I won’t be upset if you want to go home.”

“Really, I’ll be okay.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence. As he parked the car she said, “You can stay out here if you want.”

“I’ll come in. If I start to feel worse I’ll go back out.”

The air inside the crammed store was stifling in contrast to the crisp air outside. Richter scanned the store. There were women, kids and shopping carts everywhere. “I’m going to go look for the aspirin,” he told her. “I’ll meet back up with you.”

She was already engrossed in a picture frame rimmed with buttons. It would probably be a half hour before she’d even notice that he wasn’t with her.

Richter cut across toward the middle of the store. A woman was walking in front of him with a cart full of junk and three crying kids, with a fourth one just waiting to plop out of her swollen belly. She had pale white skin with blotchy red cheeks that she’d tried to cover with powder. Her hair stuck straight up with hair spray and she repeatedly snapped the gum in her mouth. The garish red lipstick and nail polish added the finishing touches.

He felt a sharp pain behind his eyes as he caught a whiff of her perfume. Richter tried to make his way around her cart, but it was taking up the whole aisle. He should have thought to leave his jacket in the car. He would probably knock over a display if he tried to take it off in the narrow aisle.

He took a right turn down the next aisle to see if he could get ahead of her. His path was blocked by another pregnant woman. Barely squeezing past, he was confronted by a different family coming down the aisle.

All of their odors joined to form one stench. The smell seemed to have gotten stronger. Richter looked at the shelves to see that he had stumbled into the scented candles and potpourri section.

He was getting hotter. He had to get out of that aisle. He edged his way past the family and found himself at the back of the store, surrounded by a group of women in the gift-bag aisle. They were wearing way too much spandex. He closed his eyes for a moment. Their conversations about sales and bargains, and this looking cute and that smelling nice, were running together to make one inescapable sound. He finally took off his jacket and turned back the way he had come.

Richter thought about a passage in Jonathan Swift’s
Gulliver’s Travels.
It was so well written that when Richter read it he had felt as though he was right there with Gulliver, seeing, hearing and smelling everything that Gulliver had.

Gulliver was in the land called Brobdingnag, inhabited by people sixty feet tall. He had been stripped naked and placed on the breasts of naked women. Their skin appeared “coarse and uneven” with “a mole here and there as broad as a trench, and hairs hanging from it thicker than pack threads.” Gulliver was disgusted by this whole experience. Jonathan Swift’s mother must surely have taken him into the women’s dressing room as a child.

He was still hot, even with his jacket off, and thinking of Gulliver’s trip didn’t help at all. It was like imagining himself on a long cruise in a rocky boat in an effort to cure himself of motion sickness in a car.

There was the front entrance to the store. He walked toward it quickly. He’d told the woman that he would see her outside, hadn’t he? The cool air hit his face. He kept his jacket off as he looked up to the sky. The rain on his face was a soothing relief.