Imperfect Strangers

CHAPTER 32

Alain Duvivier waited on the hard bench outside his captain's office. Shortly, a sharp rap on the glass above his head told him that the captain would see him now. He got up, walked into the office and took the offered chair, which was also very hard.

Captain Morello, a short, balding man of sixty, looked at him balefully. "Well, I hear you cleared a homicide this morning, huh, Al?"

Duvivier shrank inside his suit. "In a manner of speaking, sir."

"Saved us and the taxpayers a lot of time and trouble, huh?"

Duvivier said nothing.

"Only now I hear things," Morello said. "I hear things up and down the halls of this building."

"Sir?"

"I hear that…" he shuffled papers on his desk until he found the name, "Thomas Wills, aka Morris Wilkes, didn't do it. Or, at least, you don't think he did it."

Duvivier closed his mouth.

"I hear you think the victim's husband offed her, or rather, had her offed. I hear you arrested Wills just to put pressure on the husband. Is this just an idle rumor, Al? Talk to me."

"I had enough evidence for an arrest," Duvivier said quietly.

"Speak up, Al, I can't hear you," Morrello said.

"I had evidence," Duvivier repeated.

"Good, good; always nice to have evidence. Tell me, do you think Wills offed the woman?"

Duvivier shrugged. "I have some doubts."

"How serious are those doubts?" Morrello asked.

Duvivier squared his shoulders. "All right, captain, you're right; I think the husband did it, and I arrested Wills to put pressure on him. I think Kinsolving is, mostly, a decent man, and I thought that if he thought an innocent man might go to prison for his crime, he might talk to me."

"So now an innocent man is dead," Morello said.

"Yes, sir," Duvivier replied, tired of being quiet.

"Only he's not innocent; he left a note, confessing; is that right?"

"That's right, sir."

"So now we're marking this one down as cleared, is that right?"

"Yes, sir, I suppose so."

"Well, I'm not supposing," Morello said. "I'm marking it down as cleared. Do you know what that means?"

"It doesn't mean that I still can't go after Kinsolving," Duvivier said.

"Of course it does. It means just that very thing." Morello stood up and started pacing. "Just look at the position you've put the department in, Al. You've arrested a man you believe to be innocent in order to put pressure on the guilty party. Only, the innocent man surprises you and confesses, then offs himself. Do you see the position?"

"I'm not sure I do, sir."

"Well, let me explain it to you. Now, in the unlikely event that you're ever able to make a case against the husband, and you arrest him and send him to trial, his lawyer is going to say to the jury, 'My client didn't do this murder, another man has already confessed to it, felt so guilty about it that he offed himself.' You getting my drift, Al?"

"Yes, sir."

"I don't think you are; not fully, anyway. Let's take it a step further. You do your job, you get the goods on the husband, what are the papers saying about the department? They're saying we drove an innocent man to suicide, and what's more, if the last guy was innocent, maybe the husband is innocent, too. You see what an impossible position that is for the department? What you've done is, you've made it a practical impossibility to ever arrest the husband or anybody else for this murder."

"Captain-"

"You listen to me," Morello said. "From now on, until further notice, you don't arrest anybody for any murder until you come in this office and lay out your evidence for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir; I understand."

"Good, now get out of here."

Duvivier trudged up the stairs to Kinsolving's office over the wine store. He didn't want to be here, but this was his last attempt at some sort of absolution.

Kinsolving looked up from his desk. "Yes? What do you want, Detective?" His tone was cold, angry.

"I take it, sir, you've heard the news about Thomas Wills."

"I have."

"I wanted to tell you personally how sorry I am," Duvivier said. He shifted his weight to the other foot; Kinsolving had not asked him to sit down.

"Why are you sorry?" Kinsolving demanded. "You got a confession, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, in a way."

"Then what are you sorry about?" Kinsolving seemed to be getting angrier.

"Well, it was just the circumstances-"

"Tell me, Detective, did you really believe that man was guilty of murdering my wife?"

"I… I wasn't sure," Duvivier replied. "I did have evidence."

"You didn't believe it for a moment, did you? How could anybody talk to that man for even five minutes and believe that he did it?"

"Mr. Kinsolving, I realize you're upset."

"I'm extremely upset. And I want you to get out of my office, Detective; I want you to leave and not contact me again, unless you've found my wife's murderer. Is that clear?"

"I understand, sir."

"Good. Now get out."

Duvivier hit the sidewalk more depressed than he had ever been in his life. He walked aimlessly east, toward the park. Maybe he should just find a nice quiet place and hang himself, like Thomas Wills. Central Park had trees. He walked toward the park, sick in his heart.