“Bo Marino,” he said, “is around
school bragging about how he
spent a night in jail. Troy Drake is staying clear of Bo, and Kevin Feeney hasn’t been in school for the past three days.”
“You try his house?” Jesse said.
“Not yet, I wanted to check with you first.”
“Okay,” Jesse said. “Go get
him.”
“What about Drake?”
“We don’t know that Drake was
involved,” Jesse
said.
“Candy said …”
“Candace,” Jesse said. “And we
didn’t get any of this from her,
remember?”
Simpson nodded.
“And take Molly with you,” Jesse said.
“You think I can’t handle this
alone?”
“I’ve seen you handle worse than this alone, Suit. Molly has a
calming effect on parents.”
Simpson looked pleased for a moment, and left. Jesse picked up the phone and called Abby Taylor.
“You still representing Bo Marino?” he said when she
answered.
“No.”
“Old man fire you?”
“He didn’t get the chance,” Abby
said.
“Good for you.”
“File him under life’s too
short,” Abby said. “Are you going to pursue this?”
“I am.”
“I wish you well.”
“You know who your replacement is?”
“No, but I’ll bet he’s a
loudmouth,” Abby said.
“No bet,” Jesse said. “Want to
have dinner some
night?”
There was a pause. Jesse waited.
Then Abby said, “Of course I would. I have always felt bad about
the way we, ah, ended.”
“Gray Gull?” Jesse said.
“Tonight?”
Again the pause. Again Jesse waited.
“Absolutely,” Abby said.
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Good,” Jesse
said and hung up.
He leaned back against his chair and looked up at the ceiling for a time. See if I can stay sober.
32
Simpson brought Kevin Feeney in with his mother and father.
When
they were seated in Jesse’s office, Simpson left and closed the
door behind him. Kevin’s face was pale and he swallowed often. His
freckles stood out starkly.
“Kevin says he doesn’t know why you
arrested him,” Kevin’s
father said.
He was a smallish man with thinning red hair and a somewhat unsuccessful mustache. Mrs. Feeney had long gray hair. Her flowered dress was large and shapeless.
“Actually,” Jesse said, “we
haven’t arrested him. We have asked
him to come in and answer some questions.”
“About what,” Mr. Feeney said.
His voice cracked a little. Jesse took a copy of one of the photographs from a folder and slid it across the desk.
Candace’s
face had been blacked out.
Mr. and Mrs. Feeney looked at the picture. Kevin did not.
Mrs. Feeney said, “Oh my God, Kevin, is that you?”
Mr. Feeney continued to stare at the picture. Jesse waited quietly.
After a time Mr. Feeney said, “Who’s the girl?”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
Mrs. Feeney said, “Kevin?”
Kevin looked at the floor.
“Kevin,” Mrs. Feeney said. “Who
is that girl?”
Kevin kept looking at the floor. He shook his head.
Mrs. Feeney looked at Jesse. “Who is she? Why is her face
blacked out?”
“No reason to humiliate her more than necessary,” Jesse
said.
“But how can we help if we don’t know who she
is?”
“Kevin probably knows,” Jesse said.
“Goddamnit, Kevin,” Mr. Feeney said.
“Who is she? What’s going
on?”
Kevin huddled up tighter into himself and stared harder at the floor. Both parents looked at Jesse.
“What’s going to happen?” Mrs.
Feeney said to Jesse. “He’s not a
criminal, you know.”
“We have a picture of him forcibly restraining a naked young
woman who is crying,” Jesse said.
“There’s probably a crime in
there someplace.”
“How can you tell she’s crying,”
Mrs. Feeney
said.
“I’ve seen the full picture,”
Jesse said. “Face and
all.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Mr.
Feeney said. “Should I get a
lawyer.”
“You won’t need one until we arrest
him,” Jesse
said.
“Arrest?” Mrs. Feeney said. “How
can you arrest him? He’s a
child, for God’s sake.”
Jesse got up and walked around his desk and sat on the corner of
it in front of Kevin.
“Who took the picture?” Jesse said.
Kevin stared at the floor.
“Did you rape this girl?” Jesse said.
Without raising his eyes, Kevin said, “I didn’t do
nothing.”
Jesse let out an audible breath.
“This isn’t skipping school, Kevin, or smoking a joint,” he
said. “This is jail time.”
“Oh my God,” Mrs. Feeney said.
“Oh my God.”
“I say there are three of you,” Jesse said. “You holding her
hands, somebody else taking the picture, and a third party, off camera, holding her feet.”
“I didn’t do nothing.”
“Do you know Bo Marino?” Jesse said.
Kevin nodded. He looked as if he might collapse in his chair.
“Did he take these pictures?”
“I don’t know.”
“We found them in his possession.”
“I don’t know.”
“Was someone holding her feet?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who was holding her feet.”
Kevin began to cry.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I don’t know anything.”
“Don’t yell at him,” Mrs. Feeney
said. “Leave him
alone.”
Jesse nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he said. “Kevin Feeney,
you are under arrest for sexual
assault.”
“No,” Mr. Feeney said.
“You have the right to remain silent,”
Jesse said. “Anything you
say can be used against you in a court of law.”
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Feeney said.
“Wait.”
“You have the right to an attorney to assist you prior to
questioning and to be with you during questioning if you so desire.”
“Don’t arrest him,” Mrs. Feeney
said.
“There must be something we can work out,”
Mr. Feeney
said.
“If you cannot afford an attorney you have the right to have one
appointed for you prior to questioning.”
“I don’t know a lawyer,” Mr.
Feeney said.
“One will be appointed,” Jesse said.
“Do you understand these
rights, Kevin?”
Kevin was crying noisily.
“Am I going to jail,” he said.
“At least until a judge sets bail,” Jesse said.
“Mom,” Kevin said.
“Oh God, Kevin,” she said.
“If he tells you?” Mr. Feeney said.
“I might not arrest him.”
“Tell him, Kevin.”
“I can’t rat out my friends.”
“Do you want to go to jail?” Mr. Feeney said. “Tell him, for
crissake.”
“They’ll be pissed at me,” Kevin
said.
He was able to speak briefly, between sobs. Jesse picked up the
phone.
“Molly, you or Suit come back here.”
Almost at once, Simpson opened the door.
“Take Kevin down to a cell and lock him up,” Jesse said. “Then
call the public defender’s office, tell him the kid needs a lawyer.”
Simpson put a hand under Kevin’s arm.
He said, “Come on, kid.”
Kevin was crying loudly. Mrs. Feeney was crying just as loudly.
Kevin’s father stood and leaned over his son.
“Was it Bo Marino?” he shouted at him.
“Yes,” Kevin said.
Simpson paused and looked at Jesse. Jesse made a wait-a-minute gesture.
“Who else,” his father shouted at him.