The Drowning Child

37

Ren went back into the CARD team and Ruddock and told them about her conversation with Emma Ridley.

‘Well,’ said Paul, ‘see what the evidence says. Maybe their expert is mistaken or it’s a flimsy argument.’

Ren nodded. ‘Yeah – I can’t see Alice Veir taking too well to someone who’s not doing a flawless job – that could have been what the tension was all about: Emma Ridley thinking she’s nailed something, Alice Veir begs to differ.’

Paul nodded.

‘How are you getting on with the middle school dance night follow up?’ said Ren.

‘Nothing so far,’ said Paul.

‘Nothing from me, yet,’ said Sylvie.

‘We’ll have footage from the traffic cams, and any CCTV or private cameras in the area called in,’ said Ruddock.

One of the young Tate PD officers stuck his head in the door. He was holding a remote control.

‘You might want to come out and see this,’ he said.

The news was on and the anchor, a handsome guy in his mid twenties, was very excited about his next story, flagged by the photo of Caleb Veir in the top right-hand corner of the screen.

‘In a dramatic twist in the investigation into the disappearance of Tate boy, Caleb Veir,’ he said, ‘the Veir family home came under attack late last night. Speaking outside his home, John Veir, father of the missing boy, had this to say:

‘This is devastating for my wife and me, as you can imagine. Our son is missing, we’re suffering through that, and then this happens. The only thing that I’m grateful for is that my wife wasn’t here at the time, and that no one was injured, or that the house didn’t go up.’

‘Mr Veir,’ said the reporter, ‘you’ve said yourself that there’s been speculation on the Internet that you were somehow involved in the disappearance of your son. Would you like to take this opportunity to address those rumors?’

John nodded. ‘Yes. I’d like to make it clear to anyone who’s watching that I had nothing to do with the disappearance of my son, I love my son very much, and I just want him home. Those kind of rumors can cause real damage to people, and they can distract from an investigation. My wife and I want all law enforcement’s resources to be focused on finding our son, not on looking at me as a suspect. Thank you.’

It returned to the studio. ‘Sources close to the investigation are saying today that there could be a link between last night’s attack and missing Black River Correctional Institute inmate, Franklin J. Merrifield, who escaped from BRCI just twenty-four hours before Caleb Veir was last seen. John Veir, as we know, is a corrections officer at that prison. Merrifield was eighteen months into a thirty-five-year sentence for robbery, homicide, rape, and...?’ He paused. ‘Arson.’ A photo of Merrifield appeared in the top right-hand corner of the screen. ‘Merrifield was last seen wearing his orange BRCI prison jumpsuit, but may now be dressed in civilian clothing. He has a history of violence, and should be considered extremely dangerous. If you do see him, do not approach him, but contact Salem PD on their tips line: 555-45-95-25.’

‘Mute that,’ said Ruddock to the officer.

‘Who leaked the Merrifield connection?’ said Ren.

‘Me,’ said Ruddock. He smiled. ‘I’m thinking if Merrifield finds out that his name is being connected to a murdered boy, a missing one, and an arson attack, he might be very willing to come forward to clear his name. I don’t think it matters that he was in prison when Aaron died. That could have been organized through an associate...’

Go, Ruddock.

‘I need to talk to Alice Veir about Merrifield,’ said Ren.

She went to her desk and called her.

‘Alice? It’s Ren Bryce here. Are you familiar with the missing inmate from BRCI – Franklin J. Merrifield?’

Pause. ‘Yes,’ said Alice. ‘I believe he attacked John’s house last night.’

‘Do you?’ said Ren.

‘Well, it certainly makes sense to me,’ said Alice.

Even without any evidence? You’ve changed your fucking tune. ‘There’s no evidence pointing to him,’ said Ren. ‘But, of course, we have to explore it as a possibility, which is why I’m calling you. Has he ever reached out to you about his case?’

Pause. ‘Why would he do that?’

‘Well, Merrifield claims he’s innocent, he’s just lost an appeal, and you’re a lawyer working on a high-profile wrongful conviction case. He knows your brother from BRCI—’

‘No, Merrifield has not approached me.’

Definitive, yet unconvincing.

Ren paused. ‘How is the Anthony Boyd Lorden case going?’

Silence.

‘I watched the news program you appeared on,’ said Ren.

‘It’s progressing,’ said Alice.

Ren waited.

‘The whole thing was a travesty,’ said Alice.

‘What do you think happened that night?’ said Ren.

‘I believe that Kevin Dunne suffered a serious assault, but that it was not carried out by my client.’

‘But you’re not offering an alternative killer?’ said Ren.

‘That’s not my job,’ said Alice. ‘There is no physical evidence linking my client to the assault, and his confession is not worth the paper it’s written on. Did you know there have been three hundred and twenty-nine exonerations based on DNA testing since 1992, and one thousand six hundred and eight exonerations identified by the National Registry of Exonerations since 1989 when DNA was first used in US courts? Did you know that of that number, thirteen per cent of those adults had falsely confessed, but that that percentage rose to forty-two per cent in the case of juveniles? Forty-two per cent!’

Jesus. Blind me with stats. ‘Have you spoken about it with Emma Ridley from the Innocence Project Northwest?’ said Ren.

Silence. ‘Yes,’ said Alice. ‘I’m sorry, but what is your interest in this case?’ Her tone had sharpened. ‘With all due respect... shouldn’t your focus be on Caleb?’

‘It is,’ said Ren. Of fucking course it is, you snippy bitch. ‘I’m just curious what you thought of the theory proposed by Emma Ridley. That Kevin Dunne may have been clipped by the side-view mirror of a passing vehicle? Have you read her report?’

‘I scanned it,’ said Alice. ‘It’s not the focus of my defense.’

Your hackles are skyward.

‘Did you show it to a Medical Examiner to maybe try to get a second opinion?’ said Ren.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Alice. ‘I’m under a lot of stress...’

You’ve noticed I’ve noticed.

‘I’m worried about Caleb, about my brother, about Teddy,’ said Alice. ‘And this case is all-consuming. The trial is coming up. I’m raising awareness about false confessions too, so I’ve a lot of speaking engagements. I’m trying to do the best I can for my client. He was seventeen years old, zero evidence showed he did anything, but here we are: twenty-four years later. The prosecution constructs a wonderful, convincing narrative, and bam, Anthony is jailed. It’s terrifying, is it not? He’s forty-one years old – just four years younger than me. I’ve had my life – what has he had?’

‘You’re discounting Emma Ridley’s alternative scenario,’ said Ren, ‘So your case is based on...’

‘A golden triangle of police coercion, flawed eyewitness testimony, and incompetent legal representation.’

Ren got off the call, sat back, and thought of Anthony Boyd Lorden, his eager face.

Imagine being so utterly broken, so distraught, so traumatized, so terrified, that one word transforms your entire future: yes. In one horrifying swipe, your twenties are taken away, your thirties, your milestones, decades of significance, where love happens, where life happens, where relationships are formed, relationships with good people, not charged, violent, petty, feuds behind prison walls.

That one word: yes. Yes, I did it. Yes, I took a weapon no one ever found, and I bashed in the skull of a boy who I gave a ride too. A stranger with whom I spent just twenty minutes of my seventeen years, talking about football, talking about summer jobs, talking about school, talking about cars. YES. I am a monster. A monster who stopped to pick up a guy dressed in black who was walking in the dark. I am a monster. Right? I am a monster. Am I not? I did this. Didn’t I?

She thought of John Veir.

Am I damning him?

What if it was Merrifield? What if John and Alice are being forced to lie?

Jesus Christ. Imagine being part of the team who wrongfully convicted someone.

I don’t think I’d ever get over it.

She went back through her notes and found one person she thought might shed light on Merrifield and Veir: Rob Lockwood, Veir’s friend, and Merrifield’s psychologist.