“I don’t know, man. I was just running scared. Trying to escape reality.”
“Some people have suggested that you were running to Mexico to hide out from the police.”
“Well, they’re wrong. I just had to get my head clear. Had to admit to myself that they were really”—he stopped short of the word, then spoke its euphemism—“gone.”
Ben cleared his throat. “My office assistant told me you were seeking representation.”
“Let’s put our cards on the table, okay, Ben? I don’t want representation. I want you.”
“So my secretary said. I have to tell you—I’m a little surprised.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know each other that well.”
“I know your reputation. That comes with being mayor.”
“There are dozens of good attorneys in town. With more experience than I have. You could hire anyone you want. Forgive me, but … this just doesn’t make sense.”
There was a small change in Barrett’s expression, not a smile, but a tiny tugging at the corner of his lips. “Can I be blunt?”
“Of course.”
“My case is going to be assigned to Judge Hart.”
“How can you know that? The assignment won’t be made until after the preliminary hearing.”
“Ben, I’m the mayor, okay? I know.” He stretched out his arms. “Now my sources at the courthouse tell me there are a lot of good attorneys, and a lot of attorneys that Judge Hart likes. But, they say, you’re a particular favorite.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do. It’s a fact.”
“Even if that were true, it wouldn’t matter. Judge Hart is a smart, professional judge. She’s not going to give you any breaks just because she likes me.”
“I’m sure she would never intentionally show any favoritism. But when all is said and done, all other things being equal, wouldn’t you rather be represented by the guy the judge likes than the guy she doesn’t?”
Ben couldn’t argue with that logic.
“Look, I’ll give you whatever you want. How about a ten-thousand-buck retainer up front? You can charge me a hundred and fifty an hour, even though I know you normally don’t get half that much, when your clients pay at all, which from what I hear isn’t that often. So when can you start?”
Ben fidgeted with his briefcase. “I haven’t decided—”
“What’s to decide?”
“Well … it’s very complicated …”
Barrett’s eyes slowly narrowed. “You think I did it, don’t you?”
Ben averted his eyes.
“You think I killed my wife. You think I killed my two little girls.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what the jury thinks—”
“Yeah, but that’s why you won’t take the case. Right?”
Ben met him eye to eye. “If I don’t believe your story myself, how can I make a jury believe it?”
“What is it you don’t believe?”
“Everything. Leaving at just the wrong moment and coming back to find them all dead.”
“That’s how it happened!”
“Well, whether it did or didn’t, a jury will certainly have difficulty believing it.”
Barrett folded his arms. “All right. So that’s one problem. What else?”
“The crime itself is a problem. Forgive me. I know you must be upset about all this, but I have to speak honestly. Everyone in your family was killed except you. The public hates survivors; they always assume there must be a reason why one survives when others don’t. And who can blame them? They can believe a father—an athlete—in the heat of passion loses his head and kills his family. But if you didn’t kill them, who did? Who else could possibly have a motive to eliminate your entire family?”
“Ben,” Barrett said, after a long pause, “how much do you know about politics?”
“Very little.”
“Well, it’s a dirty game.”
“What are you saying—that your political enemies did this?”
“I just announced I was running for reelection.”
“I can’t believe anyone would commit such a horrible crime for political reasons.”
“That’s only because, as you just admitted, you know very little about politics.”
“Why would anyone kill your family?”
“To put me right where I am now.” He spread his arms wide. “Look at me. I’m in jail, not likely to get out any time soon. My reputation is shot. Even if I’m acquitted, most people will assume I was probably guilty. My political career is ended. Over. Hell, if they’d killed me, they’d just get my chosen successor. This way, they’ve rubbed the Barrett administration right off the map.”
“I can’t believe anyone would do that.”
“You can’t believe someone would commit murder to make millions of dollars?”
“Millions? But you said—”
“I’m talking about kickbacks, Ben. Municipal construction contracts that always seemed to end up in the same hands. Until I came on board and cleaned things up. Believe me, there are some heavy hitters in this town who want me gone, erased, and the sooner and more thoroughly the better. They don’t like having their hand taken out of the cookie jar. Especially,” he added, “not by a black man.”
“But a crime like this.” Ben shook his head. “Three murders …”
“Oh, hell, the creeps I’m talking about wouldn’t do the murders themselves.”
“Then—”
“Ben, you’re not really this naive, are you? These days you can hire a hit man for a thousand bucks. Hell, you can find their advertisements in the backs of magazines.”
“You’re saying a professional hit man did this?”
“Is that so incredible?”
“Frankly, yes.”
Barrett was quiet for a moment. “Ben,” he said finally, “did you read the description of the murders in the police report?”
“I did.”
“So did I. You remember what it said about my little”—his voice trembled, then cracked—“my little Annie?” He clenched his jaw and steadied himself, fighting back the tears. “She was killed by a single incision. A thin blade inserted at exactly the right point through her ribs and at the base of the heart. Caused immediate death. Now I ask you, could I do that? In the heat of passion, no less?” He paused. “Or did that require … a professional touch?”
“But that was just one of the murders. The other two—”
“I know. Something must’ve gone wrong after the killer got Annie. But the point remains—I could not have committed that murder.”
“The jury will assume that you could. Or that you just got lucky.”
“Lucky? That I got lucky?”
Ben wished he could will those stupid words back into his mouth, but it was too late.
Barrett’s whole body shook with anger. “I … did … not … get … lucky. I lost my family. I’m a victim!” He took several deep breaths till he had steadied himself. “I could not have committed these crimes. They were done by a professional.”
“Well—”
“Let me tell you something else. I think I’ve seen him. I’ve seen someone prowling around our neighborhood. An oily-looking creep in green fatigues. Nasty. Usually hanging around with a younger woman. A girl, really. Wears a headband. I saw this guy wandering around several times, but I didn’t know what to make of it. Now I do. Now I realize he was casing the neighborhood, waiting for just the right moment. As soon as he saw me run out of the house yesterday, he made his move.”
“How many times have you seen this man?”
“I’m not certain. At least four or five times. Other people in the neighborhood must have seen him, too. Ask around.”
Ben batted his pencil against his lips. “I suppose I could do that.”
“Don’t make up your mind whether to accept the case now. Take some time. Ask some questions. Go to a city council meeting.”