this take?”
“They have the times when the calls were made and when the cops got there and all that. I’m sure the times are right. At some point, when I was out on the lawn I found myself wiping my hand on my shirt and I realized I was bleeding all over the place. I hadn’t noticed that I’d been cut. When the guy slashed at me he cut the hell outta my hand.”
Steel held his left hand, palm up, out on the table. A scar ran diagonally from the bottom of his index finger, across the shallow middle and into the meaty pad on the bottom of the opposite side. Steele traced the scar with his right index finger, and then spoke matter-of-factly: “Cut the hell out of me. I was bleeding everywhere.”
“What did you do when you saw the cut?”
“I went back inside and went to the kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped it around my hand. Then I went back upstairs. A minute or two later I heard a siren and I came back down, got back on the phone and told the 911 operator that they were there, and then went out on the porch and waited for them.”
Despite the eighty-degree day outside, I was suddenly aware that it was freezing in the dim concrete room. I thought I heard the dripping water again and I looked behind me. Through the window in the wall, I could see the guard leaning against a filing cabinet reading a newspaper. He didn’t look up. I doubted he ever looked up.
“So then the cops got there? How many were there?”
“Just one guy, at first, in a squad car. But he wasn’t there too long before a whole bunch showed up. Within five minutes the place was crawling with, I don’t know, a dozen of them at least.”
“Ok, so what happened next?”
“Well, they investigated. They started asking me all the same questions. They didn’t find any signs of forced entry so they arrested me.”
“Then what?”
“Well, I didn’t get to the jail until, God, it must’ve been four or five in the morning. I finally got to talk to Becky and told her to get a hold of her grandparents so they could come out and take care of her and Shawn. Then I told her to find out where Matt was, and then I got a lawyer. That fuckin’ mother . . .” Steele’s voice trailed off.
“Why did you suspect Matt?”
“It just seemed like he was the most likely. I mean he was a creepy kid, and he’d just gotten in a fight with Sharon only fifteen or twenty minutes before.”
Steele’s voice was growing tense.
“So you hired Garrett Andersen to represent you? How did you know him?”
“I didn’t. I talked to some people. He came highly recommended.”
“Why wasn’t any testimony presented regarding Matt?”
“I testified, but there was nothing else. The jury didn’t believe me. Garrett said Matt had an alibi. Everyone agreed he was sitting at home at the time. I told him that his sister had said that he was out all night.”
“You think the sister was lying?”
“Look, Becky called over to his house at about seven-thirty, pretty early for a Sunday morning. Matt’s sister answered the phone and Becky acted like she was just looking for him, like they were going to go do whatever it was they did. The sister told her that he didn’t come home that night.”
“But later, the sister and everyone else told the police that Matt was home?”
“Right, but that was after the fact. Look, when Becky talked to the sister no one knew yet what happened at my house. It wasn’t in the papers yet, it wasn’t on TV, nothing. There was no way she knew about it, so she was just being honest. After they realized we suspected Matt, she changed her tune.”
Steele’s expression had fallen off toward desperation. It was the face of a man who’d been telling the same story for years, all too aware that no one was listening. He said it with a conviction that made me think it was the obvious truth, that it couldn’t be any other way. Matt’s sister was lying.
We talked a while longer. Reilly tried repeatedly to bring the conversation to a close, but Steele wanted none of it. Eventually, Reilly stood as he spoke, forcing a conclusion. When Steele and I shook hands, he held on tight and seemed reluctant to let go at all.
Copyright © 2011 by Fingers Murphy. All rights reserved.
Published by Fingers Murphy
Published simultaneously throughout the world.
No part of this publication may be reproduced except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without the prior written permission of the Publisher. Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to: fingers@fingersmurphy.com.
This is a work of fiction. While certain characters, locations, or situations depicted herein may resemble or be based upon people, places, or things in the real world, their use herein is entirely fictional and any resemblance to actual persons, places, or things, living or dead, is either coincidental or used solely to create verisimilitude. Basically, if you think this book is about you, someone you know, or someone you have heard of, you’re a moron.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Friday, November 1
I
II
III
IV
Saturday, November 2
V
VI
VII
Sunday, November 3
VIII
IX
Monday, November 4
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
Tuesday, November 5
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
Wednesday, November 6
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXIII
Thursday, November 7
XXIV
XXV
XXVI
XXVII
XXVIII
XXIX
XXX
Wednesday, November 13
EPILOGUE
Preview: FOLLOW THE MONEY
Copyright
Table of Contents
Dedication
Friday, November 1
I
II
III
IV
Saturday, November 2
V
VI
VII
Sunday, November 3
VIII
IX
Monday, November 4
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
Tuesday, November 5
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
Wednesday, November 6
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXIII
Thursday, November 7
XXIV
XXV
XXVI
XXVII
XXVIII
XXIX
XXX
Wednesday, November 13
EPILOGUE
Preview: FOLLOW THE MONEY
Copyright
Table of Contents
Dedication
Friday, November 1
I
II
III
IV
Saturday, November 2
V
VI
VII
Sunday, November 3
VIII
IX
Monday, November 4
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
Tuesday, November 5
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
Wednesday, November 6
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXIII
Thursday, November 7
XXIV
XXV
XXVI
XXVII
XXVIII
XXIX
XXX
Wednesday, November 13
EPILOGUE
Preview: FOLLOW THE MONEY
Copyright
Table of Contents
Dedication
Friday, November 1
I
II
III
IV
Saturday, November 2
V
VI
VII
Sunday, November 3
VIII
IX
Monday, November 4
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
Tuesday, November 5
XV
XVI
XVII
XVIII
Wednesday, November 6
XIX
XX
XXI
XXII
XXIII
Thursday, November 7
XXIV
XXV
XXVI
XXVII
XXVIII
XXIX
XXX
Wednesday, November 13
EPILOGUE
Preview: FOLLOW THE MONEY
Copyright