Chapter 44



I SAT IN A BIG maple captain's chair in the a small office in the Bethel County Courthouse and talked to Francis X. Cleary, the Bethel County Chief Prosecutor.

"I've heard a lot about you already," Cleary said.

He had longish silvery hair, which he combed straight back, and high color, and pale blue eyes that were very bright and never seemed to blink.

"So you are fully prepared to admire me," I said.

Cleary laughed.

"I'm maintaining a wait-and-see attitude," he said. "You convinced the Clark kid did it?"

"Yes," I said. "But I don't know why."

"And you care why," Clearly said.

"Yes."

"I don't," Cleary said.

"We got his confession. His accomplice supports it."

Cleary spread his hands, palms up.

"Slam, bam," he said. "Thank you, ma'am."

He grinned at me happily.

"You had a shrink talk with him?"

"Naw. If the putz that's representing him goes for an insanity defense, I'll have somebody talk to him and say he's legally sane. If not, why waste the taxpayers' money."

"You've talked with him," I said.

"The kid? Sure. We've had several conversations with him. Always, of course, with his attorney present."

"Lawyer seems a little weak," I said.

"You want to do time," Cleary said. "Hire him. I wouldn't let him search a title for me."

"Off the record," I said. "Just you and me. What do you think?"

"About the kid?" Cleary said. "Oh, he did it. No doubt. But..."

"But?"

"But, there's something wrong with him," Cleary said.

I nodded.

"Besides the fact that he shot up his school," I said. "For no good reason."

"Besides that," Cleary said. "I been doing this a long time. I like it. I like putting them away and not letting them out. It's why I'm still doing it. I've talked to a lotta killers, a lotta whack jobs. But this kid ... there's something missing, and I don't know what it is."

"Yeah," I said.

"I'm not in the business of helping people I'm prosecuting. I'm in the business of throwing away the key, and I'll do it with this kid, and never look back. But . . ."

"There's no sport in it," I said.

"Everybody wants to bury the kids, bury the crime, forget about it all. Parents want to bury him and move on. School. His fucking lawyer."

Cleary shook his head.

"It's barely an adversarial procedure," I said.

"At least the other kid's got Taglio."

"Good defense lawyer?"

"Decent," Cleary said. "I mean, he's got no case, but he's trying."

"If I can get somebody," I said, "will you let my shrink evaluate him?"

"So he can show up in court and say the poor lad's crazy, and I'll have to get my expert and put him on the stand and we'll have dueling shrinks?"

"No," I said. "The eval will be private, just with me. I won't make it available to anyone. Without your say-so."

Cleary looked at me, frowning.

"There's something wrong with him," I said.

Cleary kept frowning.

"Fish in a barrel?" I said.

Cleary grinned.

"I talked to Healy about you," he said.

I nodded.

"And I got a professional courtesy-type call from an attorney named Rita Fiore at Cone, Oakes and Beldon," he said. "In Boston. Used to be a prosecutor in Norfolk County."

"I know Rita," I said.

"Led me to believe that if I was nice to you, she'd come out some day and fuck my brains out."

"Ever met Rita?" I said.

Cleary grinned.

"Yes," he said. "That's why I'm being so nice."

"Can I send in my shrink?"

"Yeah. Call me when you're ready."

I stood up.

"Healy say nice things?" I said.

"Sort of," Cleary said. "But he made no mention of fucking."

"Isn't that good," I said.

Загрузка...