Kelleher had briefed him on how to handle this. “Rules of protecting sources are fairly basic,” he said. “As long as they tell you the truth, you protect them. You catch them in a lie, all bets are off.”
Molloy leaned forward for a moment, and Stevie wondered if perhaps he’d been too rough and they were going to get thrown out of the house.
“That’s not unfair,” he said finally.
Susan Carol reached into the purse she was carrying and pulled out a tape recorder. “So we get it right,” she said. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Molloy said as she turned the tape on and put it down in front of where he was sitting.
“After you left, Steve, I almost tried to call you because it occurred to me that you’d have to talk to Norbert eventually, and when you mentioned my name, the fact that we played together in Sumter was bound to come up,” he said, his voice calm and measured.
“Actually, we haven’t spoken to him yet,” Stevie said.
“Then who-”
“Doesn’t really matter,” Stevie said. “But it does raise some issues. You told me you didn’t follow baseball, didn’t even know who Norbert Doyle was. That kind of goes beyond forgetting to mention you were teammates.”
“You’re right,” Molloy said. “And I suppose whoever told you we were teammates also told you that Analise and I dated before she and Norbert met.”
“That did come up,” Susan Carol said. “The version of the story we heard was that you wanted to nail Norbert Doyle for Analise’s death, and that Jim Hatley wouldn’t let you do it.”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t nearly that simple,” he said. “Whoever gave you that version is leaving a lot of facts out.”
“Why don’t you fill us in,” Stevie said.
Molloy sighed and looked at the tape recorder. It seemed to Stevie as if he was making a decision.
“Okay,” he said finally. “I was upset with Norbert-obviously. Everyone in town knew he was a drinker. But I didn’t try to nail him. I didn’t really want the truth about that night to come out either.”
“What is the truth?” Susan Carol said quietly.
“The truth is that he didn’t belong behind the wheel that night, and I knew it.”
“You mean because you smelled alcohol on his breath at the scene?”
“No, I knew it before the accident.”
“How?”
“I got a call from the manager at the restaurant where Norbert and Analise were having dinner. He said they’d had a fight and that Norbert had had a lot to drink. I told him to keep them there and that I would come and drive them home.
“I got there about two minutes too late.”
“And this manager will confirm your story?” Stevie asked.
Molloy shook his head. “I don’t know. His name was Tom Barton. He left town years ago. I have no idea where he is now.”
“Is there anyone who can confirm the story?” Susan Carol put in.
Molloy smiled sadly. “Jim Hatley. But I don’t think he’s likely to talk to you two anytime soon. There might still be a record of the restaurant’s call in about a drunk patron, I don’t know.”
Stevie and Susan Carol looked at each other. “So the part about you being first on the scene…,” Stevie said.
“Is true,” Molloy said. “I was closest to the scene because I was still at the restaurant when the call came in.
“I was probably as much of a wreck when Jim showed up as Doyle was. That’s why he sent me away to go tell the babysitter. Jim showed me the report the next day and said to me, ‘He’s going to have to live with the guilt the rest of his life.’ I felt pretty guilty myself, so I said I’d go along on one condition.”
“What was that?” Susan Carol asked.
“That he get Norbert into rehab. He agreed.”
“So what was the purpose of your lies on Friday?” Stevie asked. “Why embroider the story for me?”
Molloy sighed again. “I was being both stupid and selfish, I guess. Stupid to think the truth wouldn’t come out. Selfish because I want to be chief. And if it becomes public knowledge that Jim and I knew Norbert was drunk and that we let it slide, and then basically falsified the report, I’m done. They can’t touch Jim-he’s retired. I might not get fired, but I’ll never be chief now. I probably don’t deserve to be chief.”
He stopped and looked away, clearly upset.
Stevie looked at Susan Carol, who gave a tiny shake of her head to indicate he shouldn’t ask another question right at that moment. Molloy broke the silence.
“If Norbert had not been an alcoholic, Analise would be alive today. If the restaurant manager had kept them there longer, or if I’d gotten there…” Molloy paused again and sighed. “Look, I give him credit because I think he’s stayed sober since rehab. He did go out and turn his life around after that night. But it doesn’t change what happened.”
This was the first Stevie had heard of Norbert’s going to rehab. If Susan Carol was surprised, she didn’t show it.
“But why do you feel guilty?” Susan Carol said. “You got there as fast as you could. You helped get the guy into rehab. Yes, you let him off the hook on the accident, but your intentions, it seems to me, were good.”
“Well. Did I get there as fast as I could? I didn’t turn the siren on and speed to the restaurant. It didn’t seem that urgent. It’s hard not to think of all the ways you might have done it differently when someone ends up dead…”
Molloy shook his head again. “That’s not even the point, though, really. We all knew Norbert Doyle did a lot of drinking and driving. We should have stopped him before someone died.”
The tape clicked, indicating it needed to be flipped over. Susan Carol leaned forward and turned it off.
“I think we’re done,” she said. “For now. We’ll be back in touch before we write, and we may call if we have follow-up questions. I’m sorry to have to dredge all this up again.”
They walked in silence to the door and shook hands briefly and said goodbye. The rain was still pelting down as Molloy closed the door behind them. Miles Hoy’s cab was at the curb waiting for them. They sprinted for the car, dove in through the back door, and were surprised to see someone sitting in the front seat next to Miles.
“Miles?” Susan Carol said before the man swung around so that Stevie could see his face.
“Oh my God!” Stevie yelled.
“Don’t panic, kid, everything’s going to be fine,” Jim Hatley said. “Miles, my house please. The fare is on me.”
20: JIM HATLEY
MILES HOY PULLED AWAY from the curb and had driven to the corner before Stevie recovered from his shock and found his voice again.
“Miles, what’s this about?” he said. “Are you in on this too?”
Hatley laughed. “Miles isn’t in on anything,” he said. “Nancy Molloy called me and said you kids were talking to Joe. She’s scared because Joe’s scared. She asked me if I would talk to you because she’s afraid you won’t believe Joe.”
“Why wouldn’t we believe him?” Susan Carol asked.
“Because he lied to you on Friday,” Hatley said. “He called me that night to ask me why I ran you off. Then he told me he panicked and lied to you.”
“So you two are friends?” Stevie asked, becoming more incredulous by the minute.
“No, not at all,” Hatley said. “But he told me you snooping around could be trouble for Norbert Doyle. And he was my friend, once upon a time.”
“So what did happen that night?” Stevie said. “What’s the truth?”
Hatley held a hand up. “Let’s wait until we get to my house. You can run a tape recorder once we get there.”
“So you’ll talk to us on the record?” Stevie said.
“I will only talk to you on the record.”
They drove in silence through the rain until they came to Brill’s Lane, which Stevie recognized immediately. His stomach churned a little bit at the memory of the great dog chase. Hoy pulled into the driveway.