Bury the Lead - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,30

give you some idea of how successful I was in his defense. After he was sentenced to a minimum of fifteen years, his wife divorced him and took their daughter to California.

It is a source of ongoing pain and guilt that Randy is behind bars, and those feelings are exacerbated every few months, when he calls me with ideas he has thought of for appeal. They never have any merit or prospects for success, and it always falls to me to break that news to him. What he can’t accept, what I have trouble accepting myself, is that his legal game was played out and he lost. No do-overs allowed.

I ask Edna to call the prison and arrange for me to visit Randy on Saturday. I don’t want to go, I never want to go, but I can’t stand the idea of him sitting in his cell, feeling that I’ve abandoned him.

Kevin and Laurie come back for a meeting I’ve called to go over what we’ve learned. I don’t really expect anything to come from these initial efforts; I believe that if there is a motive anywhere to be found, it will be in the Padilla killing. But it’s more likely that there was no motive to any of this other than lunacy, despite the curious tactics the perpetrator used.

Kevin says that he visited with Arnold Simonson, husband of Betty, the grandmother who became the second victim.

“They lived off their Social Security and his disability insurance; he hurt his back while working as a foreman in a carton factory,” Kevin reports. “They were high school sweethearts, married forty-two years, hoping to move to Florida next year. Two grown kids, four grandchildren . . .” Kevin is obviously upset as he recounts this.

“So no apparent motive?” I ask.

“Zero. And I showed him the photos of the other women, but he had never seen them before.”

I nod. My guess is that the only thing we’re gonna find these people have in common is that they were killed by the same person.

“He showed me their family album,” Kevin says. “How anybody could have hurt that woman . . .”

I discuss with Kevin and Laurie what I learned at the coroner’s office, and Kevin makes the very logical suggestion that I should talk to someone with professional insight as to the killer’s state of mind. I make arrangements to do that, then I leave for a meeting with my client.

Laurie heads off to talk with the husband of Nancy Dempsey, the first victim. With that out of the way, we’ll be free to turn our collective focus to Linda Padilla. We need to find proof that the killer is logical, that the crimes had a motive, because only then can we make a credible case that he framed Daniel.

• • • • •

THE HORROR OF confinement is starting to take its toll on Daniel. I am told that loss of freedom is a nightmare that cannot be fully understood unless experienced. Daniel is experiencing it right now, and I can see the devastation on his face as he is led into the visitor’s room. What he doesn’t realize is that he hasn’t yet faced the worst part. That will come if we lose the trial and the system puts him away and moves on to other things. Willie Miller once told me that the feeling of hopelessness, of being forgotten, is the toughest part of all.

Daniel sees me as his only link to the outside world, and his only hope to ever get back there. He sees me this way because it is true, and it’s a pressure that makes me uncomfortable. For instance, right now, before I’ve said anything, Daniel is desperately hoping that I’ve brought some news that will end his agony.

I haven’t.

My expressed purpose for being here is to bring him up-to-date on the progress of our investigation, but since there basically is none, I’m able to get that out of the way quickly. What I really want to do is probe his story about the night of the Padilla murder; I don’t believe his version of events, and I’m hoping there’s another explanation for his lie besides him being the killer.

“Did you know Linda Padilla?” I ask.

“Why? You think I killed her?”

I deflect this question by lecturing him on his role as the defendant. He must tell me everything there is to tell; the worst possible thing that can happen is if I am surprised in court by something the