Had she not been the prosecutor in the Holmes case he would have yanked her out of the chair and pulled her into his arms. Had he not been the defense attorney, he would’ve stood up and kissed her on the spot. But they were professionals, keeping a secret Teddy knew anyone watching them could guess.
He closed the menu thinking he was dyslexic. He still knew what breakfast was, and when the waiter filled their cups with coffee and took their order, Teddy ordered from memory. Bacon and eggs, over easy with whole-wheat toast.
At this hour, more than half the tables were full, but it was a big room with a thirty-foot ceiling. They could talk freely without worrying much about being overheard through the din.
“So how’s Barnett?” she asked.
“I called the hospital before I came in. They say he’s gonna pull through. It’ll take a while though.”
He stirred a packet of sugar into his coffee and tasted it. It was strong and hot, and he began to relax. On the walk over he’d had a chance to think about Barnett’s accident, and the possibility that Andrews may have played a role. He’d only touched on it before, and Powell laughed. Still, he felt the need to press the issue with her. Other than the murderer, the only one who gained anything by running over Barnett was Andrews. Teddy was fully aware that it could have been an attempt to just scare Barnett. An errand given to Michael Jackson that got out of hand when Barnett fell down on the ice and couldn’t get out of the way. Andrews had proven himself an asshole at the autopsy yesterday. And Jackson seemed more than capable of carrying out anything that he might be asked to do.
“How well do you know Andrews,” he said.
“I’ve been a prosecutor for ten years. Why?”
Teddy leaned closer. “I guess what I’m asking is how far do you think he’d go to win a case.”
She set her cup down and looked at him without saying anything. She wasn’t laughing anymore and he could see her wheels turning at high speed.
“A case like this,” Teddy said. “Andrews has political ambitions. This case is a godsend. You saw the way he acted at the autopsy. What do you think he’d do to win?”
The reach had vanished from her eyes. Just distance now.
“It sounds like you’re asking me if I think he’s capable of running over Barnett. I hope that’s not what you’re asking, Teddy.”
He cleared his throat and looked at her. “I guess I am,” he said.
She sat up in the chair, straightening her back. She was upset but trying not to show it. Her voice was quiet, just above a whisper, but steady and strong.
“Listen to me,” she said. “Andrews may be a phony. That goes with the territory. He may even have made one or two mistakes in his past. Who hasn’t? But there’s no way he had anything to do with what happened last night. He didn’t run over Barnett, and he’s not responsible for that bump on your head. I thought you were joking.”
“But I wasn’t, Carolyn. Someone was out there. When I found the shot glass, someone hit me.”
She looked down at the table, her voice sarcastic. “Maybe it was Dawn Bingle.”
Teddy pushed his coffee aside, ignoring her attitude. “This time it was a man,” he said. “At least I think it was. I couldn’t really see.”
She shook her head without a response like he was crazy. As Teddy thought it over, he realized that he couldn’t be sure of what he’d seen last night. Not sure enough to testify under oath. It had been dark. As he lay in the snow, he saw a figure and assumed it was a man. But maybe it wasn’t.
“Andrews needs this case,” Teddy said. “With Barnett out of the way, it’s just me against all the physical evidence. After last night, his chances went from one hundred percent to a sure thing.”
She was speechless. When their breakfasts arrived, she looked away from her plate.
“I’m sorry we made love,” she whispered after the waiter walked off. “You’re not the person I thought you were.”
“What are you talking about?”
Her briefcase was on the chair beside her. She pulled a file folder out and tossed it on the table.
“Our chances of winning this case became a sure thing a half hour ago when I picked up the DNA results at the roundhouse,” she said. “Read the report while you’re enjoying breakfast. That’s your copy for the murder book. The knife found in Holmes’s mailbag had blood on it matching both Darlene Lewis and Valerie Kram. Holmes’s blood was found on it, too. It’s a statistical lock, Teddy. Your client murdered both of them.”
With that, she grabbed her things and marched for the door. She was in a hurry, too angry to get into her coat until she was outside. Teddy pushed his breakfast away, watching her through the window. When she vanished down the street, he asked the waiter for their bill.
THIRTY-ONE
Nash sat back in his desk chair with the DNA report on his lap, listening to Teddy recount his story. Except for making love with Powell, Teddy didn’t leave anything out, describing the tracks he found in the snow, the Sterling silver shot glass, and the events leading to the point where he was knocked unconscious. On occasion, Nash would interrupt and ask for more details. Once he was satisfied, he’d nod with a troubled look in his eyes and Teddy would move on. He seemed particularly intrigued by the knowledge that Holmes was Barnett’s brother-in-law. He found the idea that Barnett and his wife were trying to keep it a secret fascinating, though naive. When Teddy got to this morning’s breakfast meeting with Powell and his accusation that Andrews might be responsible for the attacks, crimes that amounted to attempted homicide by the district attorney, Nash let out a smile and shook his head.
“I’m not that cynical, Teddy. Andrews may be a lot of things, but I don’t think he’d be that stupid. You’re right when you say he’s the primary beneficiary, and the idea’s certainly worth considering. But there could be more than one explanation for what happened last night. A rogue cop like that detective you mentioned, working on his own, or even the man who murdered Darlene Lewis. And what about this woman who led you to the boathouse? There’s a lot we don’t understand yet, and it would seem we can’t go to the police until we’ve reached certain conclusions. When Barnett’s able to talk about it, we’ll pay him a visit together. Let’s just be grateful that he’s going to survive, and you’re okay, too.”
Teddy’s eyes rose from the jury table. He noticed that Nash had tacked the missing persons bulletins to the wall, one after the next in a long row. As he looked at their pictures, he pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. It seemed early, but he lit up anyway. His problems with Carolyn Powell seemed minuscule in comparison to the job that lay before them.
“The DNA found on the knife connects the Lewis murder to Valerie Kram,” he said.
“That’s right,” Nash said.
“And you still don’t think Holmes did it.”
“His blood was found on the knife, but we already knew that it would be.”
“Because of the cuts on his hands,” Teddy said.
Nash nodded. “All the DNA report confirms is that the same murder weapon was used to kill two women. It doesn’t tell us who the murderer is or who placed the knife in Holmes’s mailbag.” Nash turned back to the report and began paging through it until he found what he was looking for. “But there’s something more interesting here. I count six additional samples. Six good reads that can’t be identified.”
“Other victims.”
“I think so,” Nash said. “The murders are linked by the DNA. It’s confirmed. Without question, we’re talking about a serial killer now.”
Nash turned back to the report. Teddy stubbed out his cigarette and moved to the window. As he gazed outside at a man buying a paper at the newsstand on the corner, he couldn’t help thinking about the evidence. It was mounting up along with the body count, and every new piece pointed to Holmes. Although Nash didn’t seem concerned with the DNA results, Teddy knew that it wouldn’t have the same effect on a jury. In Holmes’s defense, all they had were best guesses, pure conjecture. A theory that it was possible Holmes had stumbled onto the scene delivering mail as Darlene Lewis was being murdered. A supposition that because of his seemingly close relationship with his neighbors, Holmes couldn’t have kept Valerie Kram in his apartment for a month without someone noticing. The holes in each idea seemed overwhelming, and Teddy began to think that Barnett might be right. Holmes did it because each new fact said he did. It was in Holmes’s best interest to do everything they could to force the DA to make a deal that would save the man’s life.