Feinstein was told what had happened later that morning — Burton had called him after he had checked Lorraine’s answerphone and collected her mail. He’d even watered her plants before he’d locked up and returned to the station.
By now they had questioned Eric Lee Judd, who maintained that he had been with four friends the entire evening, and was adamant that he didn’t even know Lorraine Page or where she lived. The four friends were contacted and each verified Eric Lee Judd’s alibi. Without further evidence, he would be released.
No prints were found on the baseball bat, none on the crushed Coke cans. Whoever had attacked her was a professional, Burton knew, and had been careful to avoid leaving any trace detectable by the forensic lab. The bloodstains on Lorraine’s clothes were found to contain no other blood group but her own. However, the bloody footprints taken from the carpet, and from the vinyl flooring by the stairs at the entrance to the apartment, were size nine, and showed the clear outline of a sneaker sole. Eric Lee Judd allowed the police to take samples of all his footwear. Nothing matched.
By twelve fifteen that morning there was no evidence against him and Eric Lee Judd was released from the police station. He was cocky and self-assured, warning officers that if they continued to harass him he’d take legal action.
Detective Jim Sharkey had been the main interrogator, and he had stared with loathing at the boy, then shaken his finger. ‘You tread very carefully, Mr Lee Judd, because I am going to be right here.’ He tapped the young man’s shoulder. ‘You put a foot out of line and...’
Eric Lee Judd glared back. ‘What’ll you do, mister? Get some drunk cop to fire six rounds into my back: That what you’ll do, huh? Then cover it up, so they get away with it? Fuck you.’
‘One foot out of line and I’ll fuck you, son — just remember that. Now get out of my sight.’
Eric Lee Judd whistled as he strolled down the corridor. He stopped in his tracks when Lieutenant Burton stepped out of his office and their eyes met.
Lee Judd had no notion of who the tall, fair-haired man was — all he knew was that his eyes were like lasers, and those eyes watched his every move as he passed and bored into his back as he continued along the corridor. He turned back, a little afraid now but unable to resist another look, then kicked open the double swing doors leading into the last corridor before he made it to the street. He began to run then, run like his kid brother had all those years before. But that was settled now: the bitch had paid the price, and he had got clean away with it.
‘How is she?’ Sharkey asked Burton, who was still standing as if frozen.
‘No news yet. No news.’ He lowered his head, then gave Sharkey a small, bleak smile. ‘Thanks for asking.’
Burton turned on his heel and returned to his office, closing the door quietly, leaving Sharkey alone outside. Sharkey went to the incident room: work would continue as usual — nothing ever stopped at the police department, not even when the life of someone many of the officers knew hung in the balance.
Burton’s door opened again, and he snapped out Sharkey’s name. The officer whipped round. ‘In my office, Detective Sharkey, in fifteen minutes. I want you to go over some files I’ve taken from Lorraine Page’s office. It’s the Nathan case.’
Burton’s door slammed shut with an ominous bang, and Sharkey sighed and muttered as he continued up the corridor, wondering what that damned woman might have found that he hadn’t, and sure that he was going to be bawled out. Old Rooney had always maintained she was one of the best. He didn’t notice that he was already thinking of Lorraine in the past tense — as if she was already dead.
Chapter 20
Mike Page met Jake Burton in the hospital reception area: neither knew enough about the other to be embarrassed, nor were they there to find out about their respective places in Lorraine’s life and affections. They shook hands and went to the small hospital coffee shop, stood in line to order their coffee, and didn’t speak until they sat down at a small corner table.
Mike pulled at his collar with nerves. ‘I haven’t been allowed to see her yet. The head honcho was in the unit, said maybe in half an hour.’ He sipped his coffee and coughed. ‘They told me there had been no improvement — did they say that to you?’
Jake nodded. He had seen Mike arrive and had introduced himself: Mike had been a little confused to begin with, presuming he was there in his police capacity, but then Jake had quietly told him that he and Lorraine had planned to be married.
‘Do we know what happened to her?’ Mike asked.
‘All we know is, she was attacked on entering her apartment. We had a suspect in custody, but we released him — no evidence.’
‘Does anyone know why it happened? I mean, I know she must have met some unsavoury types, but was she investigating something or... Was she still not drinking?’
Jake stirred his coffee. ‘She was on a case, but as yet I haven’t found any connection to her death. We’re still checking it out. She was not drinking.’
‘So this suspect — was he found there?’
‘No.’
Jake was still deeply shocked and unsure how much he should tell Mike. He was unsure about everything but his own despair.
‘Who was the suspect?’ Mike enquired.
‘He had a possible connection to an incident that happened a long time ago.’
‘Like what?’
Jake looked away. ‘He was the elder brother of the boy Lorraine shot.’
‘Oh, Jesus, God...’ Mike bowed his head. There was a lengthy pause during which neither man could say anything, each immersed in his own thoughts, until Mike looked at his watch. ‘Time to go to the unit.’
Jake pushed back his chair. Then, as he stood up, he asked if Mike minded him saying something personal. ‘Sure, say anything you want,’ Mike said apprehensively.
‘Bring her daughters to see her. Just before this happened she and I talked. I know she wanted to be reunited with them and...’
‘I don’t know if it’s such a good idea. They haven’t had any communication with her for a long time, and it would be unsettling for them.’
‘She’s their mother,’ Jake said quietly, and Mike flushed.
‘I’ll think about it — I’d like to see her first. Been nice meeting you, and I’m very sorry. Maybe she’ll pull through. She always was a fighter, and she’s taken a lot of punishment in her life.’
Jake walked past him, teeth gritted. ‘Nice meeting you.’
Mike was ill-prepared for Lorraine’s appearance. He focused on her hands, resting on top of the linen. They were white, with an almost bluish tinge.
He sat in a chair beside her and just said he was there, then slowly inched his hand over the sheet to touch hers. There was no response, so he withdrew it, and stayed for another few minutes without saying anything, just remembering. ‘I’ll bring the girls to see you,’ he whispered. Again, there was no reaction, and he left the unit quietly. He asked to speak to whoever could give him most information about Lorraine’s condition. What he heard was not good: there had been no improvement since Lorraine had been brought in; she remained in a deep coma, unable to breathe unaided; her pulse rate remained low; they were concerned about her kidneys and had a dialysis machine standing by.