was different. Jack knew from reading his file that he had had only one appeal and that was right after his conviction, a perfunctory performance alleging the usual grounds—inadequacy of counsel and improper evidentiary rulings. It was as if the lawyer wrote on the brief, “I don’t want to represent this guy but I have to, so here it is.” After that, there was nothing. Nobody wanted to touch the serial killer’s case. No wonder he was happy to see Jack.
“Mr. Felton, I’ve reviewed your entire file, and I’ve got a good feel for what happened on the night of the murder and what has happened with your case since then. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“Just that I’m innocent. I didn’t kill those two people. I think they convicted me because I didn’t have an alibi.”
“Well, they did find a knife with your fingerprints on it.”
“I never saw that knife before they showed it to the judge and the jury in my trial. I don’t know where they got the fingerprints from.”
“You never gave a statement to the police after you were arrested, correct?”
“No, I didn’t. I did tell them I was innocent.”
“Why not give them details, I mean if you were innocent?”
“I was a law student, Mr. Tobin. I was always told that no matter whether you were innocent or not, don’t talk to the police without a lawyer. When I did get a public defender, he not only didn’t want me to talk to the police, he didn’t want me talking to him. Would you have advised me to talk to the police?”
“Probably not. Listen, we’ve only got about seven weeks before your scheduled execution. I need something to take to the court. Can you give me anything?”
In fact, Jack had already found something substantial that would provide a basis for a motion for post-conviction relief and that indicated that Felton might be innocent. He was just testing Felton, trying to figure out in his own mind whether the man was innocent or not.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tobin, I can’t. The police came to my apartment two times before that last murder occurred. I was already a suspect in their minds because I had done my undergraduate work at the University of Utah and there had been a serial killer at that campus when I attended. I just think they wanted to solve this murder, and I was the best candidate they could come up with.”
“That doesn’t explain the knife with your fingerprints on it.”
“No, it doesn’t. I can’t answer that question. All I can tell you is I never saw that knife and I certainly never held it in my hand.”
* * *
Jack met up with Henry in Oakville, which was only a half an hour from the prison. The status conference and any evidentiary hearing that might occur before Judge Holbrook would take place in Oakville, so Jack wisely decided to make it his headquarters even though he had not yet decided to take the case. Ron had a two-bedroom furnished condo available at the time for him and Henry.
“I try to keep one open at all times for you, Jack, in case you want to come and visit,” Ron told him.
The truth was that Jack had not been back to Oakville since he’d left two years ago. He’d tried to give Ron money for the place but Ron wouldn’t take anything.
“I might be here for a month,” Jack said.
“So what,” Ron replied. “I shouldn’t have let you pay me last time. What are you going to give me? Five hundred dollars? Seven fifty? I’m saving you up for when it really matters—you know, a hundred grand loan, maybe a hundred fifty. This is peanuts. I’m just making sure you stay committed to me for when I need you. By the way, since you’re thinking of representing this serial killer, don’t tell people you know me. It’ll be bad for business and possibly my health.”
“I’d better keep a low profile here. People are going to be upset,” Jack said rather seriously.
The three men were sitting in the living room of the condo. Ron jumped on the remark.
“Upset? That’s the understatement of the year, Jackie Boy. Some people are going to want your hide. Danni will be in the front of the line in that group, by the way. And don’t come into The Swamp either. I’ll have to close the place down if you do.”