First degree - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,44
a call.
I meet Kevin back at the house, and he tells me that Dylan has turned over some information from Dorsey's file, though not anything relating to Laurie's accusation against him or anything about the Internal Affairs investigation.
Before we get started going through it, we eat the dinner Laurie has prepared for us. Since she has little else to do besides worry, she's been spending a lot of time in the kitchen, and the results have been extraordinary. Tonight is a crabmeat salad, followed by fusilli amatriciana, followed by freshly baked brownies. It is absolutely delicious, and I match Kevin chomp for chomp. It's lucky we've pressed for a speedy trial, or I would have "Goodyear" painted on my ass by the time we reach opening statements.
Kevin and I roll ourselves into the den afterward to go through the Dorsey discovery material. It's basically a chronological biography, and a very positive one at that. Dorsey grew up in Ohio and earned a B.A. in history at Ohio State. He enlisted and served a long hitch in Vietnam, apparently seeing a good deal of combat and earning several commendations for his service. He returned home and moved to Paterson, where he signed up for the police academy. His rise up the department ladder was rapid and relatively uneventful.
Certain little items are left out, nitpicks like his connections to organized crime, the Internal Affairs investigation and subsequent reprimand, as well as his disappearance and real or faked decapitation. Kevin will file our motion to get access to those facts tomorrow, and it's becoming more and more crucial that we win.
As we are finishing, the phone rings and Laurie answers it. I hear her side of the conversation, mostly consisting of how-are-yous? and I'm-okays.
After about thirty seconds of this, Laurie puts down the phone and says to me, "It's Nicole." She is talking about Nicole Carpenter, my wife of twelve years, from whom I was divorced just a few months ago, and to whom I haven't spoken since.
As I move toward the phone, the uniqueness of this situation flashes through my mind. I've just overheard a conversation between my ex-wife, whose father I caused to be convicted of multiple murder, and my current love, who is facing a decapitation-murder charge. I don't remember what my high school yearbook listed as my future goals, but I don't think any of this was foreseen.
"Hello, Nicole" is my clever opening line.
"Hello, Andy. How are you?"
This brilliant conversation goes on for another minute or so, as we both wait for her to get to the point of her call. Finally, she tells me that she needs to talk to me, in person, tomorrow morning, she hopes.
I don't want to meet with her, I don't have time to meet with her, there is no reason for me to meet with her, I can't be forced to meet with her, there is no way I'm going to meet with her, so I tell her I'll meet her at ten at a breakfast place near her house.
TO SEE NICOLE, YOU WOULD NEVER KNOW THE kind of year she has had. She's been shot and severely wounded by people aiming for me, her United States senator father has been convicted and jailed for multiple murder, and she's gone through a divorce. All this happened to a woman whose largest prior disappointment, at least that I am aware of, was when she got bumped out of first class on an overbooked flight to Paris.
She looks wonderful, with such a deep tan that, if she's spending a lot of her time visiting her father, he must be serving his sentence at Oahu State Prison. She gives me a little hug of hello, and we go to our table.
Mercifully, Nicole seems to know that we used up all our meaningless chitchat on the phone last night, because she comes right to the point.
"My father has cancer," she says.
"I'm sorry," I say.
She nods. "Thank you, but he's not sorry at all. Oh, I guess he's sorry that it's not a massive fatal heart attack, but anything that kills him is fine with him."
She's saying that being in prison is so horrible for Philip that he would rather be dead. What she's not saying, but which we both know, is that I put him there. It's a rather large hurdle to scale in reestablishing a friendship, if in fact that is what we are attempting to do.
It's not. Nicole has contacted me about Willie Miller's lawsuit