Final judgment

TWENTY-EIGHT

Mason retrieved Saturday morning’s newspaper from the end of his driveway as Tuffy chased scents around the trees in the front yard. The air was crisp, the sky a Neapolitan blend of orange, pink, and blue layers as the sun edged over the horizon, promising a mild day, a teaser for the coming spring.

The couple that lived across the street came out their front door wearing matching jogging outfits, the husband leading their chocolate Lab on a leash twisted around his fist. They turned down the sidewalk, ignoring him. Tuffy bolted for a sniff of the Lab. The neighbors reined their dog in, casting a venomous look at Mason for keeping such an ill-mannered animal as they picked up their pace, putting distance between them.

Watching them run away, he replayed last night’s conversation with Bongiovanni. He had jumped to the conclusion that Mark Hill had killed Rockley and Keegan out of jealousy and risked disclosure of his problems with Judge Carter to protect Carol. Ten hours later, he wasn’t so certain. Hill may have killed Rockley and Keegan, but that didn’t explain why he chose Avery Fish’s car as Rockley’s casket. Without that missing link, it was hard to tie the two murders together.

Rachel Firestone hadn’t connected the murders either. Her story on Rockley was front page, below the fold. It was straightforward although the slant edged toward sensational. She reported that the police couldn’t confirm the anonymous tip she’d received concerning the identity of the murder victim found in the trunk of Fish’s car. They acknowledged that they had sent DNA samples to the FBI for identification but said they had yet to receive a report.

Despite the cops’ equivocation, the Star considered the tip reliable enough to print the story naming Rockley as the victim. That meant Rachel had corroborated it with the only source that could-the FBI. Yet the article quoted spokesmen for the FBI and the U.S. attorney as having no comment. A Police Department spokesman also declined comment when she asked him if someone had leaked the story to embarrass the department.

The story was more about the cops getting scooped than either the killer or the victim, since she had nothing to report about them. She capped it off by tying Rockley back to Avery Fish’s trunk and the mail fraud charges pending against Fish, adding Mason’s no comment to the litany of those who should know something but claimed that they didn’t. Anyone reading the story would conclude that the cops, the feds, and the lawyers were either morons or on drugs.

The story on Johnny Keegan was on the inside of the Metropolitan section of the paper, reported without a byline, one of several blurbs about overnight crimes committed in the city. Mason took no comfort in that. Rachel and the cops would make the connection soon enough.

He put the paper down and scratched Tuffy behind her ears. He still hadn’t figured out what he would say when Bongiovanni asked him again how he knew about Johnny Keegan and Carol Hill. He had until the afternoon to figure that one out. Plenty of time.