Frannie gave a good imitation of thinking about it. ‘So what would you do instead? Of working, I mean.’
‘Maybe go to bed, get a little sleep.’
‘Which one?’
53
Real early turned out to be four o’clock, but he woke up refreshed, the growing sense of panic he’d been feeling somehow dissipated. He got into some running clothes -long sweats and a thermal windbreaker – and chugged his four-mile course.
By quarter after five he had showered and dressed and was at his desk with yesterday’s dailies and the transcript of May Shinn’s tape with the D.A.‘s office.
It was every bit as bad as he’d feared.
Q: You had stopped seeing Mr Fowler by this time, isn’t that right?
A: Yes, I think it was early in March. He just caught me at home. Normally I screen my calls but I was expecting Owen so I picked it up.
Q: And what did Fowler say?
A: He said he was worried about me.
Q: Why?
A: He said he’d heard I was seeing Owen. I guess he’d heard bad things about him or thought he had. He said he wanted to make sure I was all right.
Q: What did you tell him?
A: I mostly tried to say he was being silly. Look, I didn’t want to hurt him. Then he said if Owen ever hurt me in any way I should come to him, I could always come to him. So, you know, I was trying to keep it light, I told him, if anything, Owen made me feel safer than he ever had. At least Owen had taken the gun.
Q: Which gun, Ms Shinn?
A: The gun. I never liked to keep it around and I’d asked Andy to take it home with him -I hated it in the house. But he wouldn’t do it, being a judge…
Q: Then what?
A: I told him we put the gun on board the Eloise in the desk right next to the bed in case there was an emergency and I needed it, but at least it wasn’t at home anymore. It made me feel safer.
Q: And what did the judge – did Mr Fowler – say to that?
A: Nothing, really. Then he asked me why I had stopped seeing him. It was really hard, but I told him… I was in love with Owen.
Q: How did he react to that?
A: He said he thought I’d been in love with him. I told him I liked him, that he had been very important to me. He asked what if Owen weren’t in the picture anymore, did I think I could see him again?
Q: And what did you say?
A: I said I was sorry but I just didn’t think so. Owen had changed me, or I had changed myself. I just wasn’t the same anymore, I was a different person. He said if Owen wasn’t there maybe I would be – the way I was, feel toward him the way I had. I thought Owen was always going to be there…
Q: It’s all right, Ms Shinn, it’s okay, take your time.
A: I said I didn’t know.
Q: Didn’t know what, May?
A: What I’d do if Owen wasn’t there. I couldn’t think about that. I believed him, Owen I mean. He wasn’t going to leave me. Then Andy… the judge… said what if something happened to Owen. What would I do then?
Q: And what did you say to that?
A: I think I said I didn’t know, I didn’t even want to think about something like that.
Hardy ran into Glitsky under the list of fallen policemen in the lobby of the Hall of Justice. It was 9:20. Court went into session in ten minutes and Andy Fowler had not yet arrived. Jane was calling his home, as she already had done twice since nine o’clock; there had been no answer either time.
Hardy told Abe a little about May Shinn’s damaging testimony.
‘Maybe Fowler just decided to cut and run.’
‘He wouldn’t do that. He put up a million dollars’ bail, Abe. He surrendered his passport.’
Glitsky, more knowledgeable in such matters, smiled. ‘You want a new passport? Give me ten minutes. Cost you fifty bucks.’
‘He wouldn’t do it.’
‘A million dollars doesn’t stand up against a life in the slammer. And for a man like Fowler… you know how long a judge’s life is going to be once he gets there? That’s the good news – he won’t suffer very long. The bad news is he’ll suffer real hard.’
‘He’s not going there, Abe.’
‘Right. I forgot.’
Jane came up, shaking her head no.
‘You know,’ Hardy said, ‘your dad is making me old before my time.’
‘He’ll get here.’
‘So will Christmas, Jane.’
Glitsky looked at his watch. ‘Contempt time starts in about three minutes.’
‘Yes, Mr Hardy?’
‘Your Honor, Mr Fowler called from a gas station about twenty minutes ago. He has car trouble. He was taking a cab from where he was – it shouldn’t be more than a half hour.’
Chomorro spent a minute rearranging things on the bench. He tried not to betray how angry he was and was not entirely successful. ‘Ms Pullios?’ he asked.
‘What’s our choice, Your Honor?’
The judge tried to smile at the jury. Hardy knew this was another prosecution bonanza. Guilty and late. Thought he was still a big shot…
‘Well, ladies and gentlemen, why don’t you all go out and have yourselves another cup of coffee.’ The smile vanished. ‘Mr Hardy, if Mr Fowler is not here at ten-o-one, I’m going to cancel his bail and put him back in custody – is that understood?’
‘Yes, Your Honor.’
To say nothing, Hardy thought, of his own contempt if it turned out that Andy had left the country or taken off- it wasn’t recommended procedure for attorneys to lie to the court, as he had just done. But what was his option?
He got up from the defense table and went back through the swinging door to the gallery, where Jane was sitting next to Glitsky, who had stayed around to view the proceedings.
‘What if he doesn’t show?’ Abe said.
‘Thanks, Abe, the thought never occurred to me.’ He looked at his ex-wife. ‘Any ideas?’
‘About what?’ Pullios had left the prosecution table and was standing at the end of the aisle, from where she just happened to overhear.
Hardy turned quickly around. ‘Lunch,’ he said. ‘We’re trying to decide between Chinese and Italian.’
How much had she heard? Whatever, she gave no sign. ‘It’s going to be a long day,’ she said. ‘Chinese, you eat it and a half hour later you’re hungry again. I’d do Italian.’ Her eyes left Hardy and went to Glitsky. ‘Hello, Abe. I almost didn’t recognize you at the defense side.’
The sergeant nodded tightly. ‘The other side was filled up,’ he said.
Pullios decided against whatever she was going to say, then moved crisply back through the gallery.
‘Bitch,’ Jane said.
Hardy said nothing. He crossed one leg over the other, looked at his watch and waited.
‘Your car broke down – the clutch went out. You called me from out on Lombard and took a cab.’
It was 9:58. Andy Fowler strolled up the center aisle as though he had the world by the tail. He shook Hardy’s hand and kissed his daughter on the cheek. Hardy thought he’d give him the short version and fill it in later.
‘My car is out in the parking lot. How about if I had a flat and they fixed it?’
Hardy sometimes wondered if the reason he hated to lie was because once you started it got so hard to remember exactly what you’d said. Had he told Chomorro it was the clutch? Or was it just car trouble? He knew to keep it simple. He probably kept it simple. ‘All right, it was flat. Jesus Christ, Andy, where the hell were you?’
Fowler had an embarrassed look. ‘May’s,’ he said quietly. ‘I finally went to see May.’
Before Hardy could react, the clerk was calling the court to order. The jury, by and large, hadn’t left the box. It was precisely ten o’clock.
Hardy didn’t hope to get much out of Turkel. The private investigator was wearing a turtleneck and a lime-green sports jacket. After he was sworn in he again made himself comfortable in the witness chair, making eye contact with the jury.