Funeral for a Friend

32

Maggie found Adam Halka throwing darts at a Superior Street bar a block from his motel. She shook the rain off her coat and waited while the man finished his game. He had a peculiar sidearm style, but he was good, landing all but one of the darts within an inch or so of the sweet spot in the center. A few of the drunk patrons gave a little cheer when he was done, and Halka took an exaggerated bow with his tall, stooped frame. Maggie got the feeling that Halka’s proficiency at darts was one of the few highlights of his life.

The man sat down at a table behind a tall mug of beer and grabbed a handful of popcorn from a large basket. He ate it a kernel at a time. The gruff look on his wrinkled face didn’t change. He wore what he had the first time she’d seen him, the same Twins shirt and jeans, both in need of a wash. A waitress came and planted a kiss on his cheek and put a burger in front of him. This was definitely his hangout place. In here, he was a star.

Maggie pushed a chair close enough to Halka that she didn’t have to shout over the noise in the bar. Eighties rock music blared from the jukebox, but the television was on, too. On the screen, she saw the ballroom at the DECC and the impatient crowd waiting for Devin Card to approach the microphone and take questions. Halka showed no interest in the television.

“Seems like you’ve been busy, Mr. Halka,” Maggie told him.

Halka adorned his burger with ketchup like a thick bloodstain. “Yeah? Busy doing what?”

“Trying to extort money out of Peter Stanhope.”

The motel owner shrugged and didn’t look concerned by the accusation. “Oh, that. He told you about that? Pete’s exaggerating. I was blowing smoke up his ass, that’s all. If you think you can make a thing out of it, arrest me, but I doubt ’ol Pete really wants this to go anywhere. It’s not the kind of thing he wants to see in the papers.”

“I’m not here to arrest you for extortion,” Maggie said, putting a spin on the last word.

Halka’s eyes narrowed as he took a big bite of his burger. He heard the hidden message in her voice. “Yeah?” he replied as he swallowed. “You got the idea I’ve done something else?”

“You tell me. Rape. Murder.”

Halka put down the burger and wiped his mouth. “What the hell are you talking about? Do I need a lawyer or something?”

“That’s up to you. You’re not under arrest. You want to go? Go. You want me to go? Just say the word. I want to clear a few things up, but that’s entirely up to you.”

“I haven’t done a damn thing,” Halka insisted.

“Then answer some questions.”

Halka rocked back in his chair and spread his arms. “Shoot.”

“Ned Baer said he had a witness to back up his story,” Maggie told him. “He had somebody who saw Devin Card going upstairs at a party with the woman who says she was raped. Were you the witness?”

“No. I didn’t tell Baer a thing.”

“Did you see Card going upstairs with a woman at one of the parties?”

“Who knows? It was thirty years ago. Card hung out with lots of girls.”

“The night Ned Baer went to the Deeps, did you follow him?” Maggie asked.

“Follow him? Why the hell would I do that?”

“You tell me.”

“No, I didn’t. Ned drove off, and I never saw him again.”

“Did you tell anyone else where he was going?”

“Other than your cop friend? No.”

“Do you own a gun?”

Adam took another bite of his burger and chewed slowly as he considered his answer. “Several.”

“Is one of them a 9 mm handgun?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got one of those. Me and a few million other people. Why?”

“Would you agree to let us run your pistol through ballistics? That way, we can rule it out as being the gun that killed Ned Baer.”

“Well, I already know it’s not, because the only place I fire that gun is at the range. As far as letting the police handle it, no, that wouldn’t be tops on my list. I’m not really a trusting guy when it comes to the government. Tell you what, you come over to my place with a warrant, and you can test any of my guns that you like.”

Maggie wasn’t surprised that he didn’t volunteer his guns. She gestured at the television screen over the bar. “The media are saying that the woman who made the accusation against Devin Card is coming forward tonight. She’s going public.”

“If you say so. I haven’t paid any attention to that.”

“Do you know who the woman is?”

“Don’t know,” Halka replied. “Don’t care.”

“Maybe I can refresh your memory,” Maggie said.

“How do you plan on doing that?”

Maggie leaned closer. “Let’s start with Denise Forseth. I’m sure you remember her.”

Halka’s mouth puckered like a dried grape. “Yeah. So?”

“Tell me about the two of you.”

“There’s not much to tell. Denise and I went together through most of high school. Kept going out while she was in college. We were going to get married, but Denise broke it off. End of story.”

“Do you know she’s back in Duluth?” Maggie asked.

Halka shrugged. “Yeah, I heard that.”

“Have you seen her?”

“Nope. Why would I want to see her? Denise and me were ancient history.”

“Tell me about the break-up,” Maggie said.

Halka stared at her long and hard, as if he was trying to understand the rules of the game. “Why do you care about that?”

“Humor me. Do you remember when Denise ended your relationship?”

“Yeah, matter of fact, when your fiancée dumps you in front of all your friends, it kind of sticks in your head.”

“So tell me about it.”

Halka took a drink from his beer. “Denise was heading off to the Air Force. I didn’t think that meant we had to break up. Looking back, I guess that was pretty stupid of me, but I was a kid. And I loved her. I thought we should do long-distance, or hell, I was ready to get married before she left. Instead, she said we were done. Gave me back the ring. Told me where to shove it.”

“Where was this?”

“We were at a concert at the DECC. Big group of us.”

“Was Devin Card there?”

“I don’t remember.”

“What happened next?” Maggie asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what did you do after Denise dumped you?”

“I have no idea,” Halka replied. “I remember getting dumped, but that’s all.”

“I understand there was a party crawl after the concert. Did you go?”

Halka began to act squirrelly. “Who knows? Probably. I already told you, I spent a lot of time drunk or high in those days. I sure as hell wouldn’t have stayed sober after what Denise did to me. But I don’t remember any of it.”

“None of it?”

He hesitated, and she knew he was about to lie. “Not a thing.”

“Denise says there was an incident later that night at one of the parties. She says you saw the whole thing.”

“What kind of incident?”

But Maggie could see it in his face. He knew.

“It involved Peter Stanhope,” she said. “And Denise.”

Halka froze. A kind of bloodlust filled his eyes. “Okay. She told you about that, huh? Yeah. I remember.”

“Tell me what happened.”

The man’s voice came out in a strangled hiss. “I’m sure you already know what happened. Denise let Stanhope bang her in front of everyone.”

“You saw it?”

“Oh, yeah. I saw it.”

“This was the same night? The night she dumped you?”

“Same night.”

“You must have been angry. Your fiancée dumps you and then has sex in front of you and your friends with another man? You must have wanted to get back at both of them.”

“I wanted to rip their fucking heads off,” Halka replied. “So what?”

“What did you do?”

“What the hell do you expect? I kept drinking.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. Did I think about going back home and getting a gun? You bet I did. But they weren’t worth it.”

Maggie let the silence stretch out between them. The only noise was the music of the bar and the mumble from the television. Then she said, “Did you know Denise’s sister?”

Halka looked surprised by the change in direction. “Her sister? Andrea? Yeah, sure. I mean, she was around a lot when I was over at Denise’s place. We talked every now and then, but not much. She was younger, brainy, kind of stuck up.”

“Was Andrea at the party that night?” Maggie asked.

Halka shook his head. “Hell if I know.”

“You don’t remember seeing her?”

“No, I don’t. Could she have been there? Sure, I guess. But I don’t remember.”

“Would you have recognized her if you saw her back then?”

“Denise’s sister? Of course, I would’ve.”

“Was Devin Card at the party?”

Halka nodded. “Oh, yeah. Devin was there. He was up in my face when Pete and Denise were doing it. Taunting me about it. That asshole.”

“So you must have been pretty upset with him, too.”

“Yeah. Him, too. All three of them.”

“Did you see Devin become involved with anyone at the party? Did you see him go upstairs with anyone?”

“Jesus, how many times do I have to say it? I don’t remember. For all I know, yeah, I saw Devin with his tongue in some girl’s mouth, but I could have said that about fifty different parties.”

“But this party was special,” Maggie said. “This is the one where Denise humiliated you.”

“Spell it out!” Halka growled. “Stop playing games. Exactly what the hell do you think I did?”

If he was going to crack, if he was going to admit anything, now was the time.

“Andrea was at that party, Mr. Halka,” Maggie told him.

“Okay. If you tell me that, fine, maybe it’s true, but I don’t remember. So what?”

“Andrea says she was making out with Devin, and then she went upstairs to the bedroom with him.”

Halka eyed the television over Maggie’s shoulder. “Her? Shit, that was Denise’s little sister? She’s the one?”

“She’s the one.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Truly. I liked the kid. I still don’t see what this has to do with me. She says Devin raped her, right? That’s what this has been about for the past seven years. So why are you talking to me about it?”

“Andrea thinks it was Devin, but she’d been drinking a lot,” Maggie told him. “She may have passed out. See, we’re wondering if Devin Card came back downstairs and left her alone up in the bedroom. And there you were at the party, Adam. Drunk, pissed off, out of control. Suddenly, you realized that your ex-fiancée’s sister was all by herself. Did you go upstairs, Adam? Did you figure if Denise was going to have sex with someone, you could do the same thing? Did you figure that’s how you could get back at her for what she did to you? By raping her little sister?”

Halka’s eyes widened in what could only be genuine shock. “You’re out of your mind.”

“You were there, and you had a hell of a motive.”

“I didn’t do it. You hear me? I didn’t do it!”

“Maybe you were so drunk you blacked out and don’t even remember.”

“No fucking way.”

“Can you be sure? Isn’t that possible?”

“No. It wasn’t me. Do you hear me? No!”

Halka lurched up from his chair, practically in a daze. He threw money on the table, left behind his beer and burger, and stumbled for the door of the bar. Several people shouted his name, but he ignored them. He punched through the door to the street and slammed it behind him.

Maggie rushed after him into the rain. Outside, she found Halka on the street corner, his back against the stone wall of the bar. He was bent over, his hands on his knees. The downpour flooded over him, soaking him to his skin. His face was red, and when he saw her, his features contorted. He straightened up and jabbed a finger at her, his voice like a primal scream. “Are you doing this because of Stanhope? Is this him getting back at me? He wants to get his buddy Devin off the hook, so he spoon-feeds this bullshit to you?”

“That’s not what’s going on here, Adam.”

“He’s rich, and I’m trash. He gets whatever he wants. He always has.”

“Peter Stanhope doesn’t know about any of this. Look, Adam, I just want the truth. After all this time, Andrea deserves the truth. And whatever you may think of Devin Card, he doesn’t deserve to be destroyed over an accusation like this if he’s innocent.”

“It wasn’t me!” Halka insisted again. “I don’t know anything about a rape back then. I told you that. I told Ned that. If it happened at that party, okay, fine, whatever you say. But I didn’t know, and I sure as hell had nothing to do with it.”

Maggie blinked as rain ran down her face. She stared at Halka and realized that she believed him. He was innocent.

“Okay, Adam,” she said. “Okay, you didn’t do it.”

“I loved Denise. Yeah, I was hurt by what she did to me, but I would never have taken it out on her sister. No way.”

“So who assaulted her?”

Halka ran his hands through his wet hair. “If Andrea says it was Devin, it must have been him.”

“Can you think of anyone else who might have seen them together? Someone else who was at the party?”

“Nobody.”

Maggie knew she was back at a dead end. “Thank you for talking to me, Adam.”

Halka was still bent over, hyperventilating, trying to breathe.

“You okay?” she asked. “You need a doctor?”

He shook his head and waved her away. Maggie headed into the street, water pouring across her boots, the wind whipping around her hair. Her Avalanche was parked on the opposite curb. She hadn’t even reached the middle of the street when Halka called after her in a raspy voice.

“Wait.”

Maggie stopped. She marched back to the motel owner. “What is it?”

“There was another guy.”

“Excuse me?”

“There was another guy at the party. A stranger.”

“How do you know?”

“I brought him. He came with me. We left together, too. Actually, that’s why I remember. I was too drunk to drive, so he drove instead. But he was jumpy and weird, and he crashed my dad’s car. Drove it into a utility pole near the DECC. I knew I was going to catch hell. I wanted him to explain it to my dad, but the guy gave me two hundred bucks to say I did it. Then he ran. Just got out of the car and ran. I never saw him again.”

“Who was he?”

“No idea. I don’t think I ever knew his name. He was from out of town.”

“Why was he with you?”

“I met him at the concert,” Halka told her. “I wasn’t going to sit with Denise after our fight, and I had a buddy who could always get me backstage. I hung out with the roadies. This guy and I hit it off, and when I mentioned the party crawl, he asked if he could come along. I said what the hell.”

Maggie heard Halka’s voice echoing in her head, and it triggered a memory.

I hung out with the roadies.

She felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold rain.

“Adam, do you remember the concert that night? Do you remember the band you saw?”

Halka nodded. “Sure. It was ZZ Top.”