Jack smiled. “He told you about that?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Did he tell you that it was actually his nickname?”
“He told me that Father Burke came up with the name but it fit you better. He told me the whole story.” He said it in a way that told Jack Rudy knew about his father’s prediction.
They were nice memories and it was even nicer that Mikey had told them to his son. They were five minutes into the interview and Rudy had already won him over with his charm and his warmth. He knew instinctively that he was not talking to a murderer. He would have enjoyed reminiscing more with Rudy-but there was so little time.
“Rudy, do you know why I’m here?”
“Yeah. I figure you want to help me in some way. Maybe file another appeal or something.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Well, I’ll tell you, Mr. Tobin-I mean, Jack. One of those groups that are against the death penalty tried to help a couple of times, but, um, I guess you can tell, it didn’t work. When you’re in here, you don’t get your hopes up.”
“Well, I’d like to try, Rudy. It certainly can’t hurt.”
“I don’t know about that, Jack.”
Rudy’s answer surprised Jack. He had expected a little ambivalence at first, but this was more than that, more definite sounding. Jack didn’t get it-where was the harm? Hell, he was so sure Rudy would say yes to his representation that he’d opened his office, hired Nancy and started discovery. Who wouldn’t want another chance?
“I don’t understand, Rudy.”
Rudy smiled. “I didn’t think you would. But here’s the thing, Jack. A lot of good came out of all this bad that happened to me. My mom and dad got together again. I know seeing me in prison and all was hard on them, don’t get me wrong. But I also know I saw something in my mom’s eyes that I hadn’t ever seen before, when I saw them together. They were truly in love, you know.
“And I got to meet my dad. We didn’t spend a lot of time together. I mean we only met here in prison. But almost every time was a real good time, and over ten years it can add up. And I learned all about you.”
Jack started to speak but Rudy held his hand up.
“Let me finish. Maybe those things would have happened anyway, I can’t say. The other thing is-I never really had any friends other than my mother. You probably read all about me being slow and everything. If there’s anything I miss it’s her and being out on my boat riding up and down the canals. The way I figure it, Jack, when this is all over that’s where I’m gonna be. I don’t understand it all-but I’m happy to think I’m gonna be a part of nature and I’m going where my mother and father are. I’m not praying for any delays.
“So you can do this thing and if it works, I guess there’s a reason for me to be part of the world again. But if it doesn’t, I don’t want you to feel bad about it. Okay?”
Jack didn’t say anything for a moment. He just drank in Rudy’s words. Maybe Rudy lacked book-learning smarts and a respectable IQ, but he had a deeper understanding of his place in the world than most people would ever have. He had no fear about taking the next step. At that moment, Jack took his own next step.
“Rudy, I don’t know for sure why I’m doing this myself. All I know is that your father and I loved each other and we let things get between us. I’ve been planning on retiring in Bass Creek for about five years. When I went to your dad’s funeral and found out about your situation and where it all happened, I just knew I was supposed to do something.”
Rudy nodded but didn’t say anything for a long while.
“Then let’s do it, Jack.” And then Rudy took a breath, like he was really thinking hard about what he was about to say, trying to find the right words. “Jack, maybe you have to do this just to do it, I guess I understand that. But where it leads you may not be what you want or what you expect. Okay?”
Jack wasn’t quite sure what Rudy meant but the guard signaled that time was up. He just nodded to Rudy and stood to leave.
“One other thing, Jack. Do you think people can see the future when they’re about to die?” Jack figured Rudy was talking about himself, and he didn’t know how to respond.
“I don’t know, Rudy.”
“See, the thing is, the last time my dad came to see me, he knew he was dying and he said the strangest thing to me just before he left. I didn’t understand it at all until now. He said, ‘When Johnny comes to see you, tell him from now on when he’s talking to you, he’s talking to me.’”
Jack left quickly, ran to his car, drove out of the main gate as fast as he could-and when the razor-wire fences and the towers were safely out of sight, he pulled the car to the side of the road, turned the ignition off and wept.
Twenty-five
“How did it go with Rudy?” Pat asked as soon as he was settled at his desk the next morning.
“Good. He has Mikey’s smile,” Jack said, and then started shuffling some papers. Pat wasn’t letting him get off the hook so easily.
“That’s it? He has Mike’s smile? By the way, we stopped calling him Mikey about thirty-five years ago.”
“Yeah, I know, but the reference in my memory bank is Mikey. And that’s not it by a long shot. Rudy was amazing. He was warm. He was friendly. He was intuitive. And he is innocent.”
Pat noticed how Jack clenched his jaw when he said those words. “Wow! Sounds like quite an interview. I thought he was slow-easily led-and that’s how he got convicted.”
“He may be slow in the way we measure intelligence. And he may be too trusting-too believing in people-something we commonly consider a character flaw. But he is wise beyond his years in other ways. Pat, I want you to meet him. I’m going back next week. Why don’t you come?”
“I’d love to. I mean, I don’t relish the idea of visiting death row. But I’d like to meet Mike’s son, especially after what you’ve just told me about him.”
“Great,” Jack replied. “You’ll see, he’s got a lot of his father in him-and something more.”
Pat knew from that moment forward that Rudy was going to have the best representation possible-someone who believed in him with his mind and heart. It really must have been quite an interview.
Two days later, the voluminous files from the state and public defender’s office arrived-in a truck. Jack had the movers load them all against one wall in his office. He planned on taking the next few days to immerse himself in those documents.
He started that first morning with the initial police reports after the murder. He immediately began to see why the police had focused on Rudy. He had been at the victim’s house on the night of the murder. Pilar Rodriguez had given the police a pretty accurate description although she hadn’t picked Rudy out of a lineup. Raymond Castro and Jose Guerrero had also been positive in their description to the police-before they disappeared. The blood on the carpet and the broken glass matched Rudy’s-but hell, that was the most common blood type around, so all that did was not rule him out. But then there was Rudy’s confession, or to put it more precisely, Wesley Brume’s notes of Rudy’s confession. Is there a recording of the interview? And if not, why not? So far, that was the only red flag he’d found.
He next read the coroner’s report-nothing he didn’t already know in there. Her throat had been severely cut by a blade with a jagged edge.
When he’d read all the investigative material twice-the second time in greater detail-he felt satisfied that he had an overview of the prosecution’s case. Something was gnawing at him, though. There’s something I’m missing in this evidence, something I’m not seeing, he told himself. Maybe that’s it. Maybe what’s bothering me is what’s not there?
He left the office about three and took some of the files home with him. Pat arrived a little after five with bags of groceries. Jack was sitting on the living room floor, leaning on the sofa. Papers were strewn everywhere. He looked like a college student, albeit an old one, pulling an all-nighter to write a term paper on a subject he knew nothing about.