Superposition

^{CHAPTER 14}

“The People call Officer Moses Carter to the stand,” Haviland said.

Carter was a light-skinned man with African features and a missing ear, probably in his late forties. He took the stand at a slow, deliberate pace. I got the impression that his lack of speed wasn’t illness or injury related; he was just an unhurried man.

“Mr. Carter, can you please tell the court what you saw when you arrived at 58 Woodview Lane on December third?” Haviland asked.

Carter had a deep voice. “I saw Mr. Kelley running out of his house.”

“For the record, do you see Mr. Kelley in the courtroom today?”

He nodded in my direction. “That man at the other table right there.”

“Let the court records show that the witness identified the defendant, Jacob Kelley. Mr. Carter, can you tell us what happened next?”

“I pulled my cruiser in front of the driveway, to block any cars from getting out. My partner and I got out and approached Mr. Kelley.”

“Were your guns drawn?”

“No sir, but we were ready to draw them at need.”

“Why?”

“We were there to arrest him for murder,” Carter said in the same measured way. “He comes running out of his front door, looking crazed, of course we’re going to be ready.”

“So what happened?”

“We tell him to put his hands on his head, which he does. My partner keeps ready with his weapon, and I take out my handcuffs. I tell him we’re arresting him and read him his rights, and he lets me put the cuffs on, nice and easy. He has a gun in his pocket, which I take away from him, and all the while, he’s talking crazy about how his wife and kids are dead. We figure, he shot the guy in New Jersey, and now he’s come home and popped the family, too. So the other crew holds him, and I go inside and check it out.”

“And what did you find?”

Carter shrugged. “Nothing. No bodies, no blood. I went back out and asked him where he stashed the bodies, and he says his wife was right inside the door, and how could I have missed her? So we figure he’s nuts, and we book him and take him in.”

I listened impassively, trying not to show my annoyance. If only I had run out the back door when the varcolac came for me instead of the front, I would have gotten away. I wouldn’t be sitting here, day after day, listening to all these people accuse me of something I never did.

“Did he say anything in the car on the way to the station?” Haviland asked.

Carter nodded. “Yes, he did.”

“And did you advise him that he did not have to speak without the presence of a lawyer, and that anything he said could be used against him in court?”

“I did.”

“And he chose to speak anyway?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said, ‘This is all Brian’s fault.’”

“Did he elaborate as to whether he was talking about Brian Vanderhall or some other Brian?”

“No sir, he did not.”