Piece of My Heart (Under Suspicion #7) - Mary Higgins Clark Page 0,71
to the table with two coffee cups, she caught Leo’s eye and shook her head. There was no good news from upstate. They had to push Summer further.
“Laurie, I have something to tell you—to tell you and Summer—that’s going to be very difficult to hear,” Leo said somberly. “I want both of you to understand: I have never lied to obtain a conviction. But sometimes police have to simplify the evidence. In court, it needs to seem black-and-white, cut-and-dry. Not gray and messy.”
Laurie did her best to act shocked, even though they had rehearsed the entire story last night and this morning. The text message from Langland was confirmation that the judge had approved the plan. He would listen in on their conversation in real time and issue a search warrant as soon as he found probable cause.
There was still a risk that Gunther could use Leo’s words here to attack his conviction, but at least they had created a record with a court to prove that Leo simply intended to deceive Summer Carver, and his reasons for doing so. Laurie had even gone so far as to notify Lou Finney’s daughter in the event Gunther managed to leak the news of Leo’s admission before it could be explained.
“When I went back to the station house that night to question Gunther alone, he never admitted to intentionally stabbing Lou Finney. He said what he maintains to this day—that another man intervened with a knife.”
Summer’s eyes were the size of saucers. She looked at once both horrified and ecstatic. “And you said something totally different. How is that not a lie?”
“I’m willing to explain, Summer, but if I’m being totally honest with you, I need you to be completely honest with me.”
Her bottom lip quivered, afraid to answer, but she was clearly desperate to hear the rest of Leo’s story.
They were so close. Leo nudged again. “You know where Johnny is, don’t you?”
She nodded. The microphone beneath the table could not transmit the nod of a head.
“You’re nodding,” he said, not missing a beat. “But I need you to tell me that little boy’s going to be okay.”
“He’s fine. He’s been taken good care of.”
“I need your word you’ll drop him off somewhere safe—the nearest police station or fire station or hospital—once I give you what you need to help Darren with his case. Okay?”
“I will. I promise.”
“All right then,” Leo confirmed. “The way I saw it—and still see it, Summer—is that Darren Gunther was in fact responsible for Lou Finney’s death. He’s the one who started the fight. If not for the fight, there wouldn’t have been a brawl out on the street.”
As Leo kept Summer at rapt attention, Laurie snuck a peek at the screen of her phone. A new message from Langland: That’s it! We got our warrant. We’re going in NOW. Also got a warrant for Summer’s arrest. Backup coming your way.
Less than a minute later, two uniformed officers from the NYPD entered the coffee shop. Laurie knew their names were Carrie Brennan and Stan Wojcik and that they’d been waiting in the florist delivery van for further instructions from Detective Langland.
“You want to do the honors, Dad?” Leo was still an active member of the department since he’d joined the antiterrorism task force.
“Summer Carver, you’re under arrest for the kidnapping of Jonathan Alexander Buckley.”
Chapter 46
Chief Dawson flashed a thumbs-up to Detective Langland, signaling for her to take the lead. Once Summer Carver had said the magic words that she would free Johnny in exchange for Leo’s supposed confession, Judge Marshall had found probable cause to issue the search warrant they’d been waiting for.
Langland rushed toward Toby Carver’s porch, followed by Chief Dawson and a flank of five other uniformed officers. A second team approached the house from the rear.
Boom boom boom! Langland pounded her fist against the front door. “Police! We have a warrant! Open up!”
No response, as expected.
She stepped out of the way and held up her fingers. One… two…
In time with her count, Dawson and one of his sergeants swayed with a battering ram.
Three!
The wooden door broke away from its frame from the weight of their force.
Twelve law enforcement officers swept through the house, weapons drawn, wearing bulletproof vests. A sweep is more science than art, a systematic search to make certain that no one catches the police off guard. Inspect all corners. Cover every blind spot and move on.
“Clear!” Langland yelled as she swept through the kitchen.