Two hours later, Gail had left for work, and I was sitting on the back deck, under the large, ancient maple tree that thrust up through its middle, my feet propped on the railing, a cup of cold coffee forgotten in my lap. I heard a car park in the driveway around the corner, but I didn’t move or call out. My mood was such that I didn’t much care who it was, or if they discovered my whereabouts. So much else was being done without my involvement, I figured this could take care of itself, too.
It did. Within a minute of the engine’s dying, Sammie Martens appeared on the lawn below me. “I figured you’d be out here,” she said, climbing the wooden steps.
I didn’t bother answering.
She dragged another Adirondack chair next to mine and settled into it with a sigh. “How’re you holding up?”
“Great,” I answered. “Want some coffee?”
She shook her head, keeping silent.
“Am I officially dead in the water yet?” I finally asked.
“They established the brooch was theirs,” she admitted. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. It’s not like you haven’t been walking the straight and narrow for longer’n I’ve been alive.” She paused and added, “You have any ideas?”
I thought of the gist of my long conversation with Gail, wondering how many times I’d have to repeat it with others. “Nope.”
Blessedly, Sammie took me on faith. “We gotta dig deeper,” was all she said.
“How’re things at the office?” I asked after a moment.
“Confused. It’s too early yet. The younger crowd’s looking for the bogeyman. When they find him, they’ll settle down, either believing you’re dirty or you were set up. That’ll make ’em all feel better. The rest of us-the chief included-see this as a no-brainer. Some klutzy kind of frame.”
I glanced at her profile, impressed at the total confidence in her voice. “How are you doing?”
She gave me a tired smile. “Pissed off says it best right now.”
I laughed and squeezed her forearm. “Thanks, Sam.”
Later that morning, close to noon, it was Tony Brandt’s turn. I was on the couch, unsuccessfully trying to nap. This time the sound of a car engine sent me to the kitchen door in my stockinged feet, more eager now for company, even if-as I sensed was likely-he was the bearer of poor tidings.
“Hey, Joe,” he said, passing by me into the house. “How’re you holding up?”
I followed him in, pointing to the coffeemaker, to which he nodded. “That’s kind of up to you, right?”
He accepted the cup I handed him, and sat heavily on one of the stools parked around the island. “I hope you weren’t thinking this would just fade into nothing. Derby’s involvement pretty much guaranteed that.”
I heard the words with sadness. We were old friends, and had shared many a trench against politicians, bureaucrats, and adverse popular opinion. That was not the case now. Tony was here as my boss, to lower the boom-however gently and reluctantly.
“So what’s the verdict?” I asked him.
“Paid suspension for the moment. Derby says he’ll pass because of Gail-kick it over to the attorney general’s office. I haven’t heard who’s going to handle it there, yet. It’s up to them whether they use the state police, or have their investigators run the case.” He sighed heavily. “I can’t believe it… ” He turned and looked me straight in the eyes. “I know you left the office this morning ’cause you could see the writing on the wall, but do you have any idea what happened? Why it happened?”
I hesitated before answering, hoping to suppress all the emotions that rose inside me like a flock of startled birds. I went to pour yet another cup of coffee for myself but didn’t. I crossed instead to the kitchen window and looked out onto the maple tree. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Tony, but given how things’re looking, would you answer that question if you were me?”
He didn’t comment, but I’d made his job a little easier-officially at least. He quietly slid off his seat, placed the half-full mug on the counter, and walked toward the back door. “Better get a lawyer, Joe, and watch your back.”
He paused on the threshold. “If you need any department resources-under the table… ”
“I know,” I answered quickly, before he said any more that he shouldn’t. “Thanks.”
Gail called that afternoon. “You heard about it going to the AG?”
“Yeah. Tony dropped by.”
She was suddenly concerned. “You tell him anything?”
Gail hadn’t been a deputy state’s attorney for very long, but I was by now very much on her turf. She more than anyone knew the rules of engagement.
“No, counselor,” I said with a short laugh. “I told him to go away-nicely.”
“I’m sorry, Joe.” Her voice was soft, supportive. The irony was, she was in much the same position as Tony. She was just taking her time coming to grips with it.
“Well,” she resumed, “they’ve made up their minds. It’s going to Fred Coffin. You know him?”
“Not personally, but what little I’ve heard isn’t good.”
“He was a guest lecturer when I was in law school. He’s not a nice man. Very arrogant, very ambitious.”
I felt my stomach turning sour, only partly because of a wholly caffeine diet. “I take it he’s not going to let VSP do the investigation.”
“No. He wants total control. His people should be down here pretty soon.”
The AG’s office was a busy place, having the entire state as its jurisdiction. Cases submitted to it sometimes took weeks to reach the top of the pile. The fact that two investigators were possibly already on their way was not a good sign.
Gail took advantage of my silence to ask, “Have you eaten yet?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “I had a little snack. I’m doing okay. You?”
Her voice dropped a notch, implying an open office door. “It’s a little weird. I can’t figure out if it’s like I just lost a family member, or came down with a communicable disease. It’s about as cheerful as a funeral parlor. I can’t wait to come home.”
“I can’t promise you much of an improvement.”
“I love you, kiddo,” she said. “That’s always been a godsend to me.”
I looked at the floor for a moment, at a loss for words. “I love you, too,” I finally answered, knowing the words were a pale reflection of what lay behind them.
Kathleen Bartlett, a no-nonsense pragmatist and a friend from years back, was head of the Attorney General’s Criminal Division. She was also Fred Coffin’s boss. I called her immediately after my conversation with Gail.
“This is Joe Gunther.”
She didn’t answer at first, obviously choosing her words. “Not a good idea, Joe.”
“Pretend I’m a law student, just after the basics.”
“What kind of basics?”
“Tell me about Fred Coffin.”
“He’s good. He’s a climber.”
“Where’s he aiming?”
“Probably a judgeship. Probably more after that. He’s got to move fast, though. The governor likes tough prosecutors, but he’s ambitious, too. If he leaves office and some wimp takes over, Fred’s out of luck.”
“Why was I given to Coffin?”
For the first time, I sensed the concern Bartlett had been masking. “It wasn’t my call, Joe. The AG knew you and I were friends, and Fred lost no time making a play for it.”
“You make it sound like I’m in trouble.”
“You are, regardless of the facts. You trust the system here, and Fred’ll tear you apart, ’cause guilty or not, by the end, he’ll try to make sure you’re out of a job and that he’s smelling like a rose. I recommend you hire a barracuda of a lawyer, play dirty if you have to, and don’t call me till you’ve been certified one of the good guys again. Okay?”
“Thanks, Kathy.”
“Don’t thank me. Just cover your ass.”
Chapter 10
Richard Levay had been a criminal lawyer for the better part of two decades. In the compact, often interchangeable legal world of Vermont, he’d also done stints as a prosecutor, a judge, and a law professor, but criminal law remained his first love-and the profession to which he paid the most fealty. He came to my house within thirty minutes of my calling him.