Just Cause

Shaeffer looked both angry and surprised. 'Mistakes? Errors?' She turned to the reporter. 'What sort of mistakes?'

Cowart realized he would have to answer her this lime. 'He lied to me.'

'About what?'

'About the murder of the little girl.'

Shaeffer shifted about in her seat. 'And now you're here for what?'

'To set the record straight.'

The cliche prompted a cynical smile. 'I'm sure that's real important,' she said. She glanced over at Brown and Wilcox. 'But it doesn't explain why you're traveling with this company.'

'We want the record straight as well,' Brown said. As soon as he spoke the words, he recognized he'd made an error of his own. He realized that the young woman across from him was measuring him and that, so far, he'd failed.

Shaeffer thought for a moment. 'You're not here to arrest Ferguson?'

'No. Can't do that.'

'You're here to talk to him?'

'Yes.'

She shook her head. 'You guys are lying, she said. She sat back hard, crossing her arms in front of her.

'We…' Brown began.

'Lying' she interrupted.

'Because…' Cowart said.

'Lying' Shaeffer said a third time.

The reporter and the police lieutenant stared at her, and after a small quiet, just enough time to let the word fester in their imaginations, she continued. 'What record?' she said. 'There is no record. There's only one very wrong man. Mistakes and errors. So what? If Cowart made some mistake, he'd be here alone. If you, Detective Brown, made some mistake, you'd be here alone. But together, that means something altogether different. Right?'

Tanny Brown nodded.

'Is this a guessing game?' she asked.

'No. Tell me what brought you here, then I'll fill you in.'

Shaeffer considered this offer, then agreed. I came to see Ferguson because he was connected to both Sullivan and Cowart and I thought he might have specific information about the killings in the Keys.'

Brown looked hard at her. 'And did he?'

She shook her head. 'No. Denied any knowledge.'

'Well, what would you expect?' Cowart said under his breath.

She turned to him. 'Well, he was a damn sight more cooperative than you've been.' This was untrue, of course, but she thought it would quiet the reporter, which it did.

'So, if he had no information and he denied any connection, said Brown, 'why are you still here, Detective?'

'I wanted to check out his alibi for the time period that the murders took place.'

'And?'

'It did.'

It did?' Cowart blurted. She glared at him.

Ferguson was in class that week. Didn't miss any. It'd been damn hard for him to get down to the Keys, kill the old couple, and get back, without being late for something. Probably impossible.'

But, goddammit, that's not what Sullivan…'

Cowart stopped short, and Shaeffer pivoted toward him. 'Sullivan what?'

Nothing.'

Sullivan what, dammit!'

Cowart felt suddenly sick. 'That's not what Sullivan told me.'

Tanny Brown tried to step in, but a single glance from Shaeffer cut him off before he could speak a word. Unbridled rage filled her; for a moment the world turned red-tinged. She could feel an explosion within her, and her hands shook with the effort to contain it. Lies, she thought, staring at the reporter. Lies and omissions. She took a deep breath. I knew it.

Sullivan told you when?' she asked slowly.

'Before going to the chair.'

'What did he tell you?'

'That Ferguson committed those crimes. But it's not that…'

You son of a bitch,' she muttered.

'No, look, you've got to understand…'

You son of a bitch. What did he tell you, exactly?'

That he'd arranged with Ferguson to switch crimes. Took Ferguson's crime in return for Ferguson committing this one for him.'

She absorbed this and in an instant saw the crevasse the reporter was in. She had no sympathy. 'And you didn't think this was relevant for the people investigating the murders?'

'It's not that simple. He lied. I was trying to…'

'And so you thought you could lie, too?'

'No, dammit, you've got to understand…' Cowart turned toward Tanny Brown.

I ought to arrest you right now,' she said bitterly.

'Could you write that one up from your own cell, Mr. Cowart? REPORTER CHARGED WITH COVER-UP IN SENSATIONAL MURDER CASE. Isn't that how the headline would read? Would they run that on the front page with your goddamn picture? Would it be the truth for once?'

They glared at each other until something occurred to Cowart. 'Yeah. Truth. Except it wasn't the truth, was it, Detective?'

'What?'

'Just what I said. Sullivan told me Ferguson did that old couple, but I didn't know whether to believe him or not. He told me lots of things, some of them lies. So I could have told you, and at the same time I would have had to put it in the paper – had to, Detective. But now, you're telling me that Ferguson had an alibi, so it would have been all wrong. He didn't do that old couple, no matter what Sullivan said. Right?'

Shaeffer hesitated.

'Come on, goddammit, Detective! Right?'

She could think of no way to disagree. She nodded her head. 'It doesn't seem that way. The alibi checks out. I went out to Rutgers and spoke with three different professors. In class each day that week. Perfect attendance. Also, my partner has come up with other information as well.'

'What other information?'

'Forget it.'

There was another pause in the room while each person sorted out what they'd heard. Tanny Brown spoke slowly.

'But,' he said carefully, 'something else. Right? If Ferguson isn't your suspect, and he has no information to help your investigation, you should be on an airplane heading south. You wouldn't be sitting around here, you'd be down with your partner. You could have checked out Ferguson's class schedule by telephone, but instead you went and saw some people in person. Why is that, Detective? And when you open your door you've got a nine-millimeter in your hand and your bags aren't packed. So why?' She shook her head.

"I'll tell you why,' Brown said quietly. 'Because you know something's wrong, and you can't say what.'

Shaeffer looked across at him and nodded. 'Well,' Brown said, 'that's why we're here, too.'

Dawn light streaked the street outside Ferguson's apartment, barely illuminating the wedge of gray clouds that hovered over the city, poised for more rain.

Shaeffer and Wilcox pulled one car to the curb at the north end of the street, while Brown stopped at the southern end. Cowart checked his tape recorder and his notebook, patted his jacket pocket to make certain pat his pens were still there, and turned toward the policeman.

Back in the motel room, Shaeffer had turned brusquely to them and said, 'So. What's the plan?'

The plan,' Cowart had said softly, 'is to give him something to worry about, maybe flush him out of his cover, do something that we can follow up on. We want to make him think that things aren't as safe as he supposes. Give him something to worry about,' he repeated, smiling wanly. 'And that's me.'

Now, out in the car, he tried to make a joke. 'In the movies, they'd have me wear a wire. We'd have a code word I could say that would signal I needed help.'

'Would you wear one?'

'No.'

I didn't think so. So we don't need a code word.'

Cowart smiled, but only because he could think of nothing else to do.

'Nervous?' Brown asked.

'Do I act it?' Cowart replied. 'Don't answer that.'

'He won't do anything.'

'Sure.'

'He can't.'

Cowart smiled again. 'I kinda feel like an old lion tamer who happens to be taking a stroll through the jungle, and he runs across some former charge that he maybe used a whip and chair on a bit too much. And he looks down at that old lion and realizes that they're not in his circus cage anymore, but on the lion's turf. Get the picture?'