To an innocent man, this latter can be a pitfall, Alex well knew. An accusation, a suspect with priors, and a high profile suspect at that! It would be all too tempting to use whatever they had to make sure that Claymore went down big time. And “all they had” apparently included a victim ID of the suspect. Of course that wasn’t definitive evidence like DNA. But it was strong and the cops seemed confident.
And the fact that Claymore wanted to talk was not entirely re-assuring. He knew all about the naivety of the genuinely innocent man who thinks he has nothing to hide. Alex had known Elias for a few years now, every since he had represented him at the plea-bargain for unlawful escape, after he came back to the United States to face the music. Alex had been impressed at the time by Claymore’s sincerity and genuine sense of shame at his past. But that meant little now. If a man could change once, he could change again. The only thing it did mean was that Alex had a certain amount of influence with him.
But lawyers take their instructions from clients; not the other way round. So when Claymore made it clear that he was determined to answer police questions, all Alex could do was say his piece and then step aside, while the interview took place. He would be present during the questioning and he’d step in if he felt he had to. Also, the mere fact that he had warned Claymore about the dangers, meant that his client would be wary of the tricks and traps that the cop might set.
So now, Alex sat there in silence while Lieutenant Kropf, the very tall, thin man who headed up the investigation used his semi-aggressive rapid fire technique to try and trip up the suspect.
“Okay so you admit that no one saw you at home at that time?” barked Kropf, at one point.
Alex was about to tell the lieutenant to stop wasting time. He’d had his answer and was just repeating himself ad nauseum. But Claymore held out a restraining hand to silence his lawyer.
“It’s not a question of admitting,” Claymore replied, trying to keep his voice level. I was alone. That’s a fact. It’s not a crime to be alone.”
“No, but it helps to have an alibi.”
“You think I don’t know that?” asked Claymore wryly.
In the tense silence that followed, Claymore looked around. The room was stark and bare. The furniture was limited to a table and three chairs, one for the lieutenant and one each for Claymore and Alex. Light entered the room from a high window located very close to the ceiling.
Another police officer, a detective, stood by the door but said nothing. He was there in case the suspect decided to get “physical”. He was also there to be a witness to protect the lieutenant from false accusations. Although the interrogation was being videotaped, with Claymore’s consent, and there was a technician on the other side of the one-way glass, there were times — on the way in and the way out — when the people were out of the watchful eye of the camera.
Also, the video camera might break down or run out of tape. Having the extra detective present was an added precaution.
“Can you think of anything else that might prove you were at home.”
Kropf was in his persistent mood.
“Like what?”
“Like a phone-call. Did anyone call you? Did you call anyone?”
Claymore shook his head. The monotonous drone of the air conditioning was beginning to take its toll. It was more irritating than the monotonous drone of Lieutenant Kropf’s voice as he kept up a steady stream of questions that carried with them more than a hint of quiet menace.
“I don’t remember.”
“If you called out from your phone then there’ll be a record on your phone bill. It’s all digital now so you should get an itemized bill.”
Alex was making a note of the suggestion. He sensed that the lieutenant was actually trying to be helpfuclass="underline" like he almost didn’t believe that Claymore was guilty.
“Okay,” Kropf continued. “If you’re confident on this one, we can get it now.”
The lieutenant was looking at Alex when he said this.
“How?” asked the lawyer.
“We can go to a judge and file a joint motion for a subpoena on the phone company records.”
“And you think the phone company’s going to haul ass tonight just ‘cause we wave a subpoena in their faces? Get real!”
Alex knew well enough what the lieutenant was up to. He was testing to see how confident they were. It wasn’t a legally binding test of innocence. But it was a good way to know whether or not he was wasting his time on a sure-fire loser.
“OK,” said Kropf, finally. “We’re not going to charge you client.” Claymore breathed a sigh of relief. “At least not right now. We’ll wait for the DNA results to come in and we’ll take it from there.”
Alex smiled. It was beginning to look like the storm had blown itself out before it hit dry land. But he noticed that Kropf looked far from deflated — like he still had one more card up his sleeve.
“Just one more question Mr. Claymore, what car do you drive?”
“Well I’ve been using taxis for the past couple of days.”
“Any particular reason?”
“My car was stolen.”
“Did you report it?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?
“I haven’t had the time.”
“What make of vehicle was it?”
“A Mercedes.”
“What color?”
“Blue.”
“A blue Mercedes?”
“Aquamarine if you want to get technical.”
Friday, 5 June 2009 — 19:30
“I’m beginning to think that nothing’s changed,” said Andi, bitterly.
They were sitting on the porch of their new house, dining alfresco in the California evening sun: penne pasta with chicken and mushrooms
“How d’you mean?” asked Gene, with measured sympathy. She wasn’t one to encourage self-pity, having seen — in the course of her work — what a self-destructive force it can be. Self-destructive and thoroughly seductive.
Andi attacked her food with a fork displaying such ferocity that Gene was forced to smile. It meant that Andi wasn’t succumbing to the demon of surrender. She was in fighting spirits and that was surely a good sign. She’d be out of it in no time at all!
“We uprooted ourselves from New York and relocated for what? It’s not a department. It’s just a meaningless title.”
“Give ‘em a chance honey. I mean it’s only your first day. Let’s see what they let you do.”
Gene was calmly re-assuring. She knew that Andi expected no less of her. It was a game they often played: Andi bitched about life and Gene pulled her back down to earth.
“I can just feel the vibes from the start,” Andi continued. “I’m supposed to be on the fast track for a partnership and yet I haven’t even got an office. They’ve stuck me in a glorified broom closet.”
Gene touched Andi’s forearm gently.
“I’m sure that’s only temporary.”
They ate on in silence for a few seconds. Andi was still sulking. But Gene was content to leave her to it. If Andi preferred to sulk for a while longer, that was her business.
I can’t be her mother all the time.
In the end, it was Andi who broke the silence — with a change of subject.
“So how was your first day?”
She couldn’t understand why Gene looked so upset.
“My first day? What? At the Center? Pretty hectic. I mean, I guess I should be used to it.”