The first questions were routine. State your name and address for the record, please. Where were you today and tonight? When was the last time you heard from Mrs. Ralston? What time did you get home? Had there been any hint of trouble prior to tonight? Had you noticed any strangers who seemed to have a special interest in your home? This went on for a while, and Ralston answered in words of one syllable. Twice he broke down and Whiteside called for a policewoman to bring him some water.
Whiteside asked about their finances. Ralston, in that same breaking voice, told him in a few words. They were dirt poor. They had almost nothing.
Then Whiteside said, “Eleven hundred dollars was found at the scene, Mr. Ralston. Can you explain that?”
“That’s impossible.”
“Uh-huh. Did you know your wife kept a diary?”
Ralston nodded.
“Please answer verbally.”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware what’s in her diary?”
Again Whiteside had to repeat the question. Ralston said no, he had never read it.
“It was there in the open on the dresser,” Whiteside said. “Is that where she usually kept it?”
Ralston nodded, then said, “Yes.”
“It was there in plain view, just a plain little notebook,” Whiteside said. “It wasn’t locked away, there was no lock on the book itself, and yet you were never tempted to look inside.”
Ralston looked somewhat dumbfounded, as if the question made no sense to him.
“You’re saying you never looked at it? Not once in all the time you were together?”
Ralston shook his head. “That would’ve seemed…”
“Seemed what, Mr. Ralston?”
“Wrong.”
“Wrong,” Whiteside said. “Well, you know what, I believe you. I believe exactly what you’re telling me when you say you never looked at that book. I believe it was such a habit not to look in that book that it just wouldn’t have occurred to you to do that, no mat-ter what else might have happened in your lives. You just wouldn’t do that, would you, Mr. Ralston?”
“No.”
“No.” Whiteside shook his head. “That’s why you didn’t know what she wrote there.”
He got up and came around the desk, pulled up a chair, and faced Ralston from a distance of less than two feet. “What she wrote in her diary, just two days ago, was how this old woman just died in that bedroom of yours, and how she gave you all this great deathbed gift, this rare book which Mr. Janeway says is worth a lot of money. Have I got it right so far?”
“Denise wanted…”
Whiteside waited. Ralston faltered again and dabbed at his eyes.
“You were saying, Mr. Ralston? Denise wanted something. What did she want?”
“She wanted to do what the old woman asked.”
“Find the other books, is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“But you didn’t want to do that, did you? You wanted the money. And you two quarreled about it, didn’t you?”
“We never quarreled about anything. Not ever.”
“What would you call it then, when she wrote these lines?” He fished a notebook out of his pocket. “‘Michael wants so badly to take the money. So we have our first strong disagreement, but he’ll come to see this was the right thing to do.’ How would you interpret that, Mr. Ralston?”
Ralston shook his head. “That wasn’t any quarrel.”
“Maybe that’s not how it started. Maybe it was just a disagreement at first, then it got to be more than that. Hey, I know how it is: I have disagreements with my wife all the time. Sometimes I’d like to shut her up so bad I feel like pushing a pillow in her face.”
“Hey, Whiteside,” I said. “None of that shit.”
He turned on his chair. “Another word from you and you’re out of here.” He turned back to Ralston. “That’s what happened, isn’t it?”
“Don’t answer that, Mike.”
Ralston looked dazed, horrified.
“Hell, if you didn’t mean for it to go as far as it did, I can understand that,” Whiteside said. “You’re a big, strong man—once something gets started, it can be hard to stop.”
“Don’t say another word, Mike. This guy has no honor, he’s trying to sandbag you and he’ll twist anything you say. He’s an asshole and a bad cop besides.”
Whiteside leaped up from his chair and grabbed my arm. “I warned you. Now you can get the fuck out of here or spend the night in jail. Go ahead, call a lawyer if that’s what you want.”
I pushed him away. “Touch me again and I’ll leave your ass on the floor.”
“As if you could.”
“Try it and find out.” I looked at the stenographer. “You getting all this down, Jay? I want the record to show that Mr. Whiteside is throwing charges around and he hasn’t even read Mr. Ralston his rights.”
“Goddammit, get out of here,” Whiteside said.
“When you make up the transcript of this, I want to see every word of it in the record.”
“You’re obstructing justice, Janeway. I’m giving you five seconds to get out of here.”
“You wouldn’t know justice if I chiseled it on your dick.”
“Jay, tell Matthews to get in here.”
“What are we doing now, calling the A-team? Hey, I’ll make it easy on you. I’ll walk out, but not quietly, pal, and I’m coming back with one helluva savage New York lawyer who is going to make buffalo chips out of you and your tactics. You hear that, Mike? Don’t say a word to this prick. Write that down, Jay. Janeway wants it on the record, this man was not Mirandized, and it better be there. Randy Asshole Whiteside can kiss Mrs. Ralston’s diary good-bye.”
I kicked over the chair and pointed at the stenographer. “Do you know how to spell asshole, Jay? It’s your ass if it’s all not in there.”
I got right into Whiteside’s startled face. “Because you know what, asshole?” I patted my pocket. “I’ve got a tape of this whole sorry interview.”
I pushed my way past him. Ralston sat in wide-eyed disbelief. I had his attention at last. I looked down at him as I passed. “Remember, Mike, don’t sign anything, don’t say anything.”
I walked out and slammed the door, and the spirit of Harold Waters walked out with me.
Outside, I took a deep breath and touched my empty pocket as if I’d really had a tape there.
CHAPTER 13
My pal Robert Moses came from an old New York family of lawyers. Named after a public official who had transformed New York’s parks in the La Guardia administration, he had moved to Denver years ago and I had met him when I was still a motorcycle cop. He always sounded wide awake and ready for battle, even when I woke him in the middle of the night.
“You should’ve called me right away. The minute you heard they wanted to question your friend, that’s when I should’ve gotten this call.”
“When have you ever known me to do what I ought to do?”
“This isn’t funny, Cliff. Do us both a favor and don’t try to play lawyer, please; you’re not that good at it. Do you know how lucky you are not to be in jail now?”
I said I did know that. I had known that possibility even before the dance got started. But I had been on the cop’s side of the table enough to know that Whiteside was after more than background information, and somebody had to be there to get Ralston a fair shake.
“You made Whiteside a promise and you broke your word. You said you’d be quiet. You call that quiet?”
“I said I’d be quiet if he’d be civil. You call that civil?”