I go on to describe my situation, and I’m not two sentences in before she’s yelling at me to “stay down.” I tell her that the shooter has gone, that there’s no longer anything to worry about, but she keeps saying it, until I sit down on the floor to continue the conversation.
I bring up the subject of Vince, and she immediately says, “I’ll tell him.” I mention that Vince is usually still in his office at this time of day, but she cuts me off, telling me not to worry. “I’ll find him and I’ll tell him,” she says. “You just be careful. And call me as soon as the police get there.”
At that moment sirens can be heard in the background, so I peek out the window. “They’re here. Thanks.”
By the time I get outside, the street is filled with police cars, ambulances, and every flashing light in New Jersey. Patrolmen, with guns drawn, approach the house and order me to lie down with my hands outstretched. I let them search me, all the while identifying myself and telling them that I’m the one who called 911. In answer to their questions, I describe how this happened and where I think the shot came from.
I’m brought back into the house and led into a den near the back. As I go, I see medics rushing to attend to Daniel. If they can do something for him, we’ve made greater strides in medicine than I was aware of.
Two patrolmen sit in the den with me, but neither asks me any questions. My guess is that Millen has sent instructions that he wants to be the first to question me. It’s a good guess, because Millen arrives five minutes later, with two other detectives.
I describe what happened in my own words, then answer a number of questions from Millen designed to bring out more detail. He’s good at it; he gets more out of me than I realized I knew. Nothing earth-shattering, but maybe it will be helpful to him.
My assumption is that this was Lassiter, finishing up a deadly game with Daniel that I’ve never understood. I tell this to Millen, and rather than blowing me off, he seems to consider it. “Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe some looney-tune citizen thought justice wasn’t done in court and figured he’d take care of it himself.”
I write out a detailed statement and sign it, promising to make myself available to Millen. He tells me I’m free to go, and when I stand up, I’m surprised and a little embarrassed to find that my legs are shaky. This has been a rough night.
I go outside, and it’s still just as much of a madhouse as before. I start to walk to where I left my car when I see Laurie and Vince, standing next to a police car. I instinctively look to where Daniel had been lying on the porch and am glad his body has been removed. I hope it was done before Vince got here.
I walk over to them and put my arm on Vince’s shoulder. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Vince.”
He just nods, and Laurie hugs me as hard as I’ve ever been hugged. “Are you okay, Andy?” she asks.
I confirm that I am, after which Vince starts asking me questions, probably as many as Millen did. Laurie makes eye contact with me, and this time I know we’re thinking the same thing: Vince is trying to attack this problem logically, trying to immerse himself in the effort to catch the killer, so that he will not have to deal with the emotion.
I patiently answer every question Vince has, until the crowd is starting to thin out and there’s just no reason to stay there anymore. I ask him if he wants to come to my house and stay with Laurie and me, but he doesn’t.
He wants to be someplace where he feels comfortable, but no such place exists.
• • • • •
THE CROWD AT DANIEL’S funeral could fill Madison Square Garden. Vince asks Laurie and me to sit up front with him, so it’s not until it’s over that I get a full appreciation for the size of the crowd. Daniel had a lot of friends, though the overwhelming majority of the attendees are there because of Vince. Vince knows everybody and everybody knows Vince, and it’s apparent today that they like him as well.
Vince sits stoically throughout the service, much as he’s been the last three days. Laurie and I are worried about him, but all we can do is watch him try to deal with this nightmare as best he can.
Vince invites about a dozen people back to his house afterward, and Laurie views this as a healthy sign. She and I are included in the group, and she has the foresight to call ahead and order some platters of food to be delivered there when we arrive. It’s not something Vince thought of, and he’s grateful for her thoughtfulness.
There do not seem to have been any developments in the search for Lassiter, and as I sit at Vince’s, my mind wanders back to the circumstances leading up to Daniel’s murder. There’s got to be an answer to the question of why Lassiter would get Daniel off his legal hook only to gun him down. Hatred is not the likely motivation; it’s fair to say that Daniel would have suffered more if the state had put him to death after years of miserable confinement on death row.
Vince’s boss, Philip Brisker, comes over and sits down with Laurie and me. Philip is in his early seventies and has been publisher of the paper since taking over from his father twenty years ago. The paper has been in the Brisker family for as long as I can remember, and that family has been well respected for a lot longer than that.
Philip wants to discuss our mutual concern for Vince. He thinks it would be good for Vince to come back to the paper sooner rather than later, and Laurie and I agree. I say that I’ll talk to Vince and gently suggest it but that he needs to do what feels right for him.
“It’s ironic,” Philip says, “all that time, with all everybody went through . . . for it to end like this. You win your case, and then . . .”
He doesn’t finish his thought, but I wouldn’t know if he did because my mind is racing. I’m realizing why I won my case and why Daniel lost his life.
Laurie and I stay for a short while longer and then say our goodbyes to Vince. I drop Laurie off at home, though she wants to stay with me.
Where I’m going I have to go alone.
I arrive at Dominic Petrone’s house at about five in the afternoon. I have no idea if he is at home, but I didn’t think calling ahead would be possible or productive. I could have had Vince arrange the meeting, since Vince knows Petrone along with everyone else, but I didn’t want him to know about it.
I pull up to the gate that we went through the night Driver and Gorilla brought Marcus and me here. Once again three enormous men are on duty, though I don’t recognize them as having been there that night. It doesn’t matter; any one of them could handle me quite easily.
“Yeah?” says one of them when I open my window.
“I want to see Dominic Petrone,” I say.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Andy Carpenter.”
He picks up the phone and calls in, reacting with some surprise a few moments later when he gets an apparently positive response. “Park behind the house and wait,” he says, and the gate opens.
I park where I’m told, and in less than a minute Driver and Gorilla come out to meet me. “This brings back a lot of memories, doesn’t it?” I say as Gorilla frisks me. They don’t answer, but then again I don’t expect them to.
I’m brought into the same room as on my previous visit, except this time Dominic is not there when I enter. Gorilla, Driver, and I sit and wait for almost twenty minutes, without a word being spoken. It’s not the most comfortable twenty minutes I’ve ever spent.
Dominic enters and comes over to shake my hand, ever the gentleman. “Andy, sorry to keep you waiting. You should have told me you were coming.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, “but I didn’t figure things out until about an hour ago.”
He seems amused. “Is that right?”