Moment of Truth (37 page)

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Authors: Lisa Scottoline

BOOK: Moment of Truth
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“What do you mean you couldn’t remember parts of what happened?” Mary straightened, intrigued. “You didn’t tell me that before.”

“I didn’t?” Paige’s hand fluttered to her forehead. “Let me think. There were things I wasn’t sure about, I think. Details. It was just so awful, the whole scene.”

“You know it was awful or Trevor told you that?”

“I
know
that. I
remember
. It happened. Didn’t it?” Paige’s eyes flickered with bewilderment, and Mary dug in.

“You were high.”

“Not so high that I don’t know what happened to me.”

“But think about it.” Mary stood up, wondering aloud. “You go to dinner, you take a drug you never took before, and it makes you feel crazy. You and Trevor are together later and you go over what happened when you were high. How do you know what happened and what didn’t?”

“I know because I remember.”

“But how can you be sure you remember correctly? Memory isn’t always reliable. It’s like recovered memory. Those cases with the kids at nursery schools. They question the kids so much they forget what they remember and what they were told. The kids want to please the questioner. They remember what they’re told to remember.” Mary leaned forward. “Consider that there are drugs in this scenario. You were on drugs at the time of the murder and you told me that Trevor gave you a drug to calm you down after, right?”

“Yes. Special K. Ketamine, like a tranquilizer.”

Mary thought about it. “How do you know it was Special K?”

“It looked like it. A pile of white powder.”

Mary had never taken a drug in her life, except for Midol. “But aren’t lots of drugs white powder?”

“It made me feel relaxed, like K does.”

“I would think lots of drugs do that, too. Maybe it wasn’t Ketamine, Paige. Maybe it was some other kind of drug, to make you more suggestible.”

“What?” Paige cocked her head, her hair falling to one skinny shoulder.

“Trevor gives you the crystal, or what he says is crystal, before you go over to your parents’ house. By the way, why did you take it, if you had never taken it before? You knew you were going to an important dinner.”

“I knew it would be hard. I didn’t think I could go through with it straight.” Paige flushed with regret. “I know it was stupid, but Trevor said the crystal would make me stronger.”

“So he gives you the crystal, and you feel strong. Your memory is spotty. You feel out of control. You come home and he gives you another drug, then he tells you what happened. You said you two went over and over it.” Mary’s excitement grew. “What if you don’t really remember what happened, you just remember what he tells you? In time it becomes the truth, but it’s only in your mind.”

Paige looked dumbfounded. “Is that possible?”

“Of course, given what you’re telling me.”

“So what really happened, with my mother?”

“Anything could have happened, but only one thing is the most likely. Trevor killed your mother and made you think you did it.”

“What?” Paige’s eyes widened. “
Trevor
killed my mother?”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it? We have only your word that he didn’t. No one else was there.”

“I remember picking up the knife.”

“But do you remember stabbing her, actually stabbing her?”

“I don’t know.” Paige raked her hair with her fingers, a gesture of Jack’s. “I don’t remember. I don’t know what I remember.”

“You heard what Walsh said. It takes force to kill somebody that way. Trevor is a big, strong guy. You’d have to remember stabbing your mother, actually bringing a knife down, five times. Do you? What were her reactions and yours? Did she fight you? Rip your clothes? How did you fight her back? Do you remember it?”

“I think—”

“Don’t answer so fast.” Mary held up a palm. “Concentrate. Think about it, every detail. Do you really remember? Can you tell it to me?”

Paige’s eyes fluttered closed, then, after a moment, open. “I can’t. I really don’t remember what happened between when I grabbed the knife and when I found it in my hand, later, all bloody. I thought I had gone into like a trance or something.” Paige shook her head. “But I would know if Trevor did it, wouldn’t I? I mean, I would have seen him do it.”

“But who knows what you perceived, under the influence of whatever drug he gave you? And who knows what you remember or what you saw?”

Paige blinked. “But why? Why would he do it?”

“You tell me.” Mary’s thoughts raced ahead. “He had to know your mother had money, didn’t he?”

“Yes, and he knew I’d inherit it. Even as pissed as she got at me, she’d never disown me.” Paige’s blue eyes lost their focus as her thoughts slipped elsewhere.

“He used to ask me about it, and I told him what I knew about my trust fund and all, and about the Foundation. His parents have money, but not that much.”

“And you said he wanted to marry you.”

“He talked about it all the time. He really wanted us to get engaged, but I wanted to go slower. I wasn’t sure. I had just moved out and all. So I said we should wait.”

“What did he say?”

Paige’s face darkened. “Then we got pregnant.” Her eyes glittered with a revelation, and Mary didn’t have to ask what it was.

“You think he got you pregnant, on purpose.”

“I always made him use the condom, for safe sex. I knew he got around before we started dating. The time we got pregnant, he said the condom broke.”

“My God.” Mary leaned back in her chair, recoiling from the knowledge. “Trevor’s been playing you all along. He gave you drugs before you went over, knowing they’d screw up your perceptions, maybe even put you out of it. I don’t know enough about drugs, but I bet they have ’em. You may have heard your mother yelling, but it was him she was kicking. He killed your mother, then he told you that you did it.”

“He planned on my father confessing?”

“I doubt it. Trevor couldn’t have known your father would take the rap, but he took advantage of the opportunity. Either way, he gets your money. And if he’s the killer, he’s got the bruises to prove it. Did you notice any bruises on him later?”

“No, but I wasn’t looking. How can we find out? Can we get the police to examine him, like with me?”

“No. You volunteered, and I doubt very much he’ll chirp right up. The cops can examine Trevor if he’s under investigation for the crime, but he’s not, so far.” Mary kicked herself again. “I should have thought of it at the FBI, when they were questioning him. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that, remember?” Paige smiled. “You didn’t suspect him then.”

“I should have.”

“He would have explained the bruises another way, Mary. He’s a liar.”

Suddenly the conference room door opened, and Judy walked in carrying a FedEx package. She was a welcome sight, even in a black corduroy jumper, white turtleneck, and red clogs. “News update, Mare,” she said. “I ordered you both lo mein for dinner, I told our boss you’re too sick to come to work, and most important, I brought you a present.”

“What a woman.”

“I’m more nurturing now that I have a dog.” Judy handed over the FedEx package, and Mary opened it. Out slid a piece of white paper with a Polaroid photo clipped to it.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Mary said, amazed. CRIMINALISTICS LABORATORY REPORT, Philadelphia Police Department, read the top. She might have gotten it later, in discovery, but somebody wasn’t making her wait. Brinkley. He was trying to help her, even if he wasn’t returning her calls. She scanned the report, technical but understandable. “This says the DNA on something, Item B, was from a white male.”

“Yowsa!” Judy squinted at the Polaroid. “Could this be Item B?”

Mary looked. It was a photo of an earring back against the field of an Oriental rug. What was this about? Where had she seen that rug? “Paige, isn’t that the rug at your parents’ house?”

Paige stood up and took the photo from Mary’s outstretched hand. “That’s our dining room rug.”

“I thought so.” It was where Honor Newlin had been killed. Mary scrutinized the photo. “If Brinkley sent this to us, it means it’s a police photo. They take photos of the evidence at the crime scene. This must be an earring back they found there. And the lab report is saying it’s from a male.”

Paige pointed at the photo. “I know! I bet this is Trevor’s. He didn’t have his earring on later.”

“What do you mean, later?” Mary asked.

“Later that night, after my mother was killed. I’d given him a new earring earlier that day, for a present. It was a gold cross with a post back. But when we got back to my place, it wasn’t in his ear anymore. Somebody, I guess the police, must have found this back part.”

Mary thought about it. “Brinkley found it in the dining room.”

“That must be right,” Paige said eagerly. “Trevor was freaked that he lost it. I thought he was upset because it was eighteen carat, but he must have been worried the police would find it at my parents’ house.”

Mary nodded grimly. “Maybe he lost it fighting with your mother, when he killed her.”

“Does this prove anything?”

“The earring back? No. It’s a given Trevor has been at your parents’ house. He said so to the FBI, remember? That’s probably why they asked. If he were confronted with it, he could say he dropped it some other time.”

“No, he couldn’t. He has been there before, but he never had that earring before. I gave it to him that day.”

“But they didn’t find the earring, they found the back of it. The earring we could identify, but the backs are all alike. It could be an earring back Trevor lost another time, even if it is his DNA on it. It doesn’t prove anything except that there are good cops in the world.”

Judy touched Mary’s arm. “Cheer up. You’ll think of something else.”

“I will?” Mary said, but to her surprise, she already had.

46
 

Davis was at the office working on his laptop, outlining the Newlin case. He’d already gotten two calls from that scumsucker Roberts, but hadn’t returned them yet. Let him waste his own time. Roberts had yet to defend a murder case in an actual courtroom. He’d be even easier than DiNunzio. The phone rang and Davis picked up.

“Go away,” Davis said, but it was the Chief. “What? They went to Walsh? Why didn’t he call me, Chief? Doesn’t he know we’re on the same team? Left hand, meet the right hand.” Davis laughed it off, but the news caught him by surprise. Newlin’s daughter, trying to confess to Walsh. This was one wacky family. Newlin must have figured she’d do something like this. That’s why he wanted to notify her himself. He wanted to play her, too.

“No bruises? I like that in a woman. Did they take Polaroids anyway?”

Davis reached for his Gatorade, almost buried in documents from Newlin’s office. The wife’s will was on top because he’d been studying it when the phone rang. Under the will, documents lay thick as the earth’s strata; financials from Newlin’s firm and partnership compensation, and the other documents they had seized. It was late but Davis would read through them before he went for a run.

“What? Then where? To the feds?” Davis’s mood darkened. “Those idiots! They got a tag on the boyfriend. You think they could let me in on it? They’re worse than the cops, Chief! Fuck no! I don’t have time to call ’em and suck up!”

Davis didn’t like his plans interrupted. On his computer screen was a list of witnesses they’d need to subpoena from the firm; Whittier, Field, Videon. He’d planned to have Whittier explain the compensation structure, then use Videon to take them through the prenup and his conversation with Honor Newlin. Davis hated to use the Necessary Evil, but he’d have to. If Davis spent the day preparing him, maybe he wouldn’t mouth off on the stand.

“Of course the boyfriend said she didn’t do it. She
didn’t
do it! The
father
did, like I told you. Now let me work. Keep this up and I’ll ask for a raise!” Davis said, and hung up.

Maybe it was time for that run.

 

 

Jack stood in Detective Brinkley’s galley kitchen, his hand resting lightly on a chair of light wood at a round table. A fake Tiffany lamp over the table was the only light in the room and it cast long shadows on Brinkley’s already long face. The kitchen was attached to the living room and, like it, was spare and uncluttered, with mismatched furniture. A black IKEA entertainment center dominated the area, with only a small TV above a stereo with tall, thin speakers and shelves of CDs. Jack was too intent to focus on decor for long. He had a plan for getting the information he needed about Trevor. “I have a beef with you, Detective,” he said.

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