Maid of Murder

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Lew shook a smoke and a lighter out of a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He lit up, ignoring my parents’ complaints. The scene in my parents’ living room was eerily similar to the one that occurred Monday evening. My father sat attentive and anxious in his wheelchair, Lew sat in my father’s armchair, my mother and Carmen paced canyons into the floorboards, and I stood off to the side with my arms folded.

One glaring absence disturbed the reenactment: Mark.

“The police searched Mark’s apartment this afternoon and found evidence that links him to Olivia Blocken’s murder,” Lew said.

Carmen gasped, stopping dead in her tracks, and I wrapped my arms more tightly around myself.

“That’s impossible,” my mother said with a fierce mother lion look on her face.

“What was that?” Carmen asked.

“A scarf that matches the sundress Olivia was wearing the day she was killed.”

“That doesn’t mean he killed her, for goodness sake. Maybe he picked it up at the scene when he found her. He was in shock,” Carmen said.

“Mark insists that he’s never seen it. Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t searched his apartment before now. I have a friend at the department who said Mains got an anonymous tip this morning, suggesting the police check out Mark’s home.” He took a long drag of cigarette. “Lana. Carmen. Sit down. I can’t think with you marching around me like a damned German battalion.”

Carmen perched on the arm of the sofa, but my mother continued pacing, but more slowly. Lew shrugged, apparently resigned. “Because Mark was arrested late, I can’t get a bail hearing until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Let me tell you, the district attorney is salivating over this whole thing. It’s the biggest case of his career, and he was not impressed with the little stunt you pulled in front of the Justice Center this afternoon.”

Mom frowned. “We have every right to—”

“Lana, I’m well aware of your constitutional rights, thank you. I’m afraid Mark will spend the night in jail.”

Carmen stood. “We can’t let that happen. Mark didn’t do anything wrong.” She resumed her march around the sofa.

“I understand your concern. But I’ve been to the jail many times. It’s small, cozy even. There are only a few cells. Stripling isn’t exactly Gotham City, nor is Stripling’s jail Grand Central. First thing tomorrow, I’ll post Mark’s bail. I’ll request it, but there’s no way the judge is going to release him on his own recognizance. However, the D.A. cannot refuse a bond settlement with Mark’s history in the community. I’ll warn you that the price for his release may be fairly steep.” Lew removed a sheet of paper from his breast pocket. “Traditionally, the district requires ten percent of the bail be paid up front, or you could make arrangements through a bail bond company. This is a list of bondsmen in the county that I trust, in case you need help coming up with bail. Like I said, I expect it to be rather high.”

Neither of my parents reached for the paper. Lew finally placed it on the coffee table.

“We won’t be posting bond.” My father spoke.

“What?” Carmen squawked.

“We won’t be posting bond. Mark’s innocent, and I won’t be contributing my money or any of our money to a justice system that’s set to condemn him.”

Lew’s face fell, but he quickly regained control. “Alden, I understand and respect your principles, but, all lawyer-talk aside, that’s a plain stupid decision. The trial could be months away. The DA needs the time to build a case against your son, and, frankly, I need the time to build a worthwhile defense. Under those circumstances, the Stripling P.D. cannot keep Mark in their tiny holding cell. He’ll be moved to a county jail or even a prison for the time leading up to and during the trial.” Lew inched forward in his seat. “The men that he’ll meet in these places could be hardened, Alden. Hardened criminals. God knows what they’ll do to a sensitive kid like Mark.”

My father flinched. “This is not up for debate.”

There would be no prison time in my brother’s future. I spoke for the first time. “I’ll get the money you need, Lew.”

“India, that is neither your responsibility nor your decision,” my father said.

“It shouldn’t be,” I said with heat. “It should be yours, but you choked. You’d rather let Mark rot in prison for your ideals than consider his well-being.”

“We’ve all had a long day. We’ll discuss this in the morning,” Mom said in the tone she usually reserved for times when budget meetings with the church elders turned sour.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Dad said.

“Damn right,” I agreed.

“India,” my mother warned.

Carmen looked at Lew. “How much time do we have before he’s moved to one of these other places?”

Lew thought for a minute. “That really depends on the prisoner transfer schedule, but I have some favors I can call in at the station. I can buy Mark a couple of days at the jail. He’ll be out of there Friday, though, at the latest.”

“Do that, Lew. We’ll discuss this again before Mark’s moved,” my mother decreed.

I stormed out of the house.