First to Die

Chapter 107

I DECIDED TO TAKE A HUGE RISK. Iflblewit.it could knock the lid right off my case. I decided to run what I suspected by Jenks. I met him in the same visiting room. He was accompanied by his lawyer, Leff. He didn't want to meet, convinced there was no longer a point in talking with the police. And I didn't want to convey my true intent and end up feeding their defense arguments if I was wrong. Jenks seemed sullen, almost depressed. His cool and meticulous appearance had deteriorated into an edgy, unshaven mess. "What do you want now?" he sneered, barely meeting my eyes. "I want to know if you were able to come up with anyone who would like to see you in here," I said. "Pounding the lid on my coffin?" he said with a mirthless smile. "Let's just say, in the interest of doing my duty, I'm giving you one final chance to pry it back open." Jenks snorted skeptically. "Sherman tells me I'm about to be charged in Napa with two more murders. Isn't that great? If this is an offer of assistance, I think I'll take my chances on proving it myself." "I didn't come here to trap you, Mr. Jenks. I came to hear you out." Leff leaned over and whispered in his ear. He seemed to be encouraging Jenks to talk. The prisoner looked up with a disgusted glare. "Someone's running around, intent to look like me, familiar with my first novel. This person also wants to see me suffer. Is it so hard to figure out?" "I'm willing to hear any names," I told him. "Greg Marks." "Your former agent?" "He feels like I owe him my fucking career. I've cost him millions. Since I left, he hasn't gotten a worthwhile client. And he's violent. Marks belongs to a shooting club." "How would he have gotten his hands on your clothing? Or been able to get a sample of your hair?" "You find that out. You're the police." "Did he know you'd be in Cleveland that night? Did he know about you and Kathy Kogut?" "Nick is merely proposing," Leff cut in, "that other possibilities do exist for who could be behind these crimes." I shifted in my seat. "Who else knew about the book?" Jenks twitched. "It wasn't something I paraded around. Couple of old friends. My first wife, Joanna…" "Any of them have any reason to want to set you up?" Jenks sighed uncomfortably. "My divorce, as you may know, was not exactly what they call mutually agreeable. No doubt there was a time Joanna would've been delighted to find me on a deserted road while she was cruising along at sixty. But now that she's back on her feet, with a new life, now that she's even gotten to know Chessy… I don't think so. No. It isn't Joanna. Trust me on that." I ignored the remark and looked firmly into his eyes. "You told me your ex-wife's been to your house." "Maybe once or twice." "So, she'd have access to certain things. Maybe the wine? Maybe what was in your closet?" Jenks seemed to contemplate the possibility for a moment, then his mouth crinkled into a contemptuous smile. "Impossible. No. It isn't Joanna." "How can you be so sure?" He looked at me as if he were stating an understood fact. "Joanna loved me. She still does. Why do you think she hangs around, covets a relationship with my new wife? Because she misses the view? It's because she cannot replace what I gave her. How I loved her. She is empty without me. "What do you think?" he snorted. "Joanna's been holding specimens of my hair in a jar ever since we were divorced?" He sat there, stroking his beard, while the resolve on his face softened into a glimmer of possibility. "Someone has it in for me… but Joanna… she was just a little clerk when I met her. She didn't know Ralph Lauren from JCPenneys. I gave her self-esteem. I devoted myself to her, and she to me. She sacrificed for me, even worked two jobs when I decided to write." It was hard to think of Jenks as anything other than the ruthless bastard who was responsible for these horrible crimes, but I pressed on. "You said the tuxedo was an old suit. You didn't even recognize it. And the gun, Mr. Jenks, the nine millimeter. You said you hadn't seen it in years. That you thought it was kept somewhere at your house in Montana. Are you so sure this might not have been planned for some time?" I could see Jenks subtly shifting his expression as he came around to the impossible conclusion. "You said that when you started writing, Joanna took a second job to help support you. Just what sort of work?" Jenks stared up toward the ceiling, then he seemed to remember. "She worked at Saks."