Second Hand Smoke: Blood on Wolfe's Words

by Bill Capron

  “If it exists, he’ll find it.”

  Diane voiced another concern; “If the brass catches wind of this, we’re toast.”

  Maureen shrugged. “Sometimes you have to go with your feelings.”

  Their eyes met over the word ‘feelings’.

  The officer broke the building tension with words; “He’s not making it any easier. If he gets spotted out of the jurisdiction …”

  “He’d be safe, anyway. We’re in the hunt now, so it’s a matter of time.”

  The officer shook her pretty head, sending a spray of heavy mist outward. “He doesn’t want that kind of solution.”

  “Yes, Diane, you’re right. We have to trust Mr. Morgan to do the right thing.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Robin rummaged through his printouts until he found the article about Jack Daniels of Portland, Maine. He dialed information and asked for the number of Calista Barnes, Daniel’s lawyer. He had to ask twice; to George, “Can’t you quiet this heap down?”

  George slowed down. Robin finished writing the number.

  Robin got the lawyer on the first ring. She told him Daniels had been released from prison two years earlier. He gave her a two minute description of the killer he called Smoke. She didn’t seem interested, but she gave him Daniels unlisted number.

  The woman who answered the phone said he was at work. He scribbled another number as the springless truck hit a pothole. He glared at George, but it was no use.

  The number to Daniels was direct; he explained himself again.

  Daniels was silent for a long time. “I’m done with that part of my life, Mr. Morgan. I don’t particularly want to revisit it.”

  “Did you kill your parents, Mr. Daniels?”

  An immediate, “No.”

  “Well, there are thirty-five others who didn’t do the crime either. Do you want to help them?”

  More silence. Robin asked, “Mr. Daniels, are you still there?”

  “Yes, Mr. Morgan, I’m here. I leave tomorrow for three weeks in Europe with my wife, my new wife. Can you get here by six in the morning?”

  “Yes, give me directions to your house from the airport.” Robin scratched it out on another business card. He dialed United for a flight. He called Daniels back and said the earliest flight put him in Boston at six. Daniels said he’d meet the flight. He sounded more interested.

  “Almost home,” George said as they exited the highway.

  Ten minutes later he let Robin off where he’d picked him up.

  Robin reached Dick at the office. He was scheduled on the five-thirty flight on American to Chicago. He changed it.

  Chapter 15 - Tuesday, June 27 - 1:10 pm

  Maureen’s shift was over. Normally she would finish her paperwork, but she instead piled it in the corner of her desk. Today she and Meg would give Robin Morgan a little serious attention. She packed her briefcase with the file and hoisted her purse to her shoulder.

  As she descended the stairs she was surprised by the hubbub in the front lobby; for a brief second she saw it as civilians see it, chaos, scum filled, fear driven, compassion draining chaos. No one finds it easier to be with criminals than cops. She picked out five faces known to her. We know some of these people better than we know some of our friends. Why, we know more crooks than crooks do. Don’t go there.

  A hooded figure came up beside her as she exited into the dreary mist. She gripped her purse, ready to swing the concealed Smith & Wesson.

  He took her elbow and matched her pace.

  She turned her head, the mist beading like tiny gems in her hair. “Mr. Morgan, you’re back.”

  His smile was genuine. “I saw your footprints at the edge of my rose bed. I wish I’d been there.”

  They kept walking. “So where were you?” She let him guide her to the right.

  He released her arm and pushed back the hood. “I was out and about.”

  She interrogated by reflex. “You didn’t use your truck or car.”

  He bent as they walked and slapped his knees. “I’ve got two legs.”

  “Oh, so you stayed within walking distance?”

  He parted with a smile. “Plus or minus a little.”

  She stopped and turned to face him. “This isn’t a game for amateurs, Mr. Morgan. If you get picked up by the cops, or identified by a good citizen in one of these little forays, you will be back in jail. Or worse.” Say it! “Don’t make us do that.”

  He couldn’t hold her gaze; he talked at her shoulder; “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a jerk, though it looks that way sometimes.”

  No, you’re not a jerk. “Well, be careful.”

  He nodded, but said nothing.

  She put on a conciliatory smile. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

  He shrugged. “I was hoping to pick your brains, as much as the law allows.”

  The pleased smile didn’t match the words. “Come on, right now you’re a perp and compromising positions wouldn’t help either of us. Anyway, I have a daughter who’s expecting an early dinner tonight.”

  “How old is she?” He slapped his forehead. “Oh, that’s right, she’s twelve.”

  She felt a jolt of uneasiness. “We don’t know each other well enough to discuss my family.”

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to be intrusive.” He laughed. “No, that’s not true, of course I do. So how about a piece of pizza, right there.” He pointed to the restaurant across the street. “And I really do need to talk to you.”

  He saw the calculation in her eyes; she turned and crossed the street. He ran to keep up with her.

  They sat in the back corner of the empty restaurant. Robin went to the counter, ordered four pieces of pizza and two draft beers. In less than a minute he was sitting down with a tray.

  Maureen held back a smile. “Mighty forward of you, Mr. Morgan, assuming I like pepperoni and beer.”

  “Am I right?”

  She sipped the beer and bit the end of the pizza. She hunched her shoulders. “Yes, but I’m not sure I like it.”

  “You know, detective, I’m a nice guy, despite what the papers say about me.”

  She finished chewing before she spoke. “So you’re reading the news at last.”

  He shrugged his left shoulder. “No, but my friends say they didn’t know what I was really like before they read about me.”

  She wanted to reach out and touch his hand; she didn’t. “Well, my daughter feels you’ve been skewered unmercifully. I for one don’t know you well enough to say.”

  He got serious; “Maybe one day I can prove my worth to you.”

  She sidestepped the subject; “You’ve got bigger problems than proving your worth to me.”

  He shrugged, but said nothing. She felt like she was under a microscope.

  She asked, “So what have you learned?”

  He took a long pull on the beer. “I have to check a few things out first, then I’ll call you.”

  The detective was confused. “You collared me to tell me nothing.”

  “No.” He pulled his left earlobe. “No, I wanted to know how much trouble you’d be in if I was out of pocket for a couple days.”

  Hey, read him the riot act. “It’s not me who’d be in trouble.”

  He was apologetic. “You know what I mean. It could all land on your doorstep.”

  “I’ll cover my butt, but if the DA or the brass want to talk to you, and you’re nowhere to be found, well …”

  He motioned dismissively with his hand. “I was worried about you. I can take care of myself.”

  She gave a businesslike nod. “That makes two of us. I’ll consider myself warned.”

  When they finished their beers, Robin wrapped the two remaining pieces of pizza in foil. “For your daughter.”

  You’re too good. “Are you always so considerate of everyone else, Mr. Morgan?”

  “I try to be. It’s free, and it makes other people feel better.”

  Yes it does. “Yes, it does.”
<
br />   They turned their separate directions at the door. Her feet felt heavy. She turned to see him disappear around the corner.

  You’re falling in love with a suspect. But that wasn’t true, because in her mind he was no longer a suspect.

  ~ ~ ~

  Underwear, socks, deodorant, toothbrush, and shampoo hardly filled the small bag. He packed the papers and notes in the same bag.

  Robin set a strong pace for downtown. He turned left at Main Place. Dick was waiting at the corner.

  Robin settled comfortably into the soft leather seat of Dick’s Cadillac. “God, this feels good. Why don’t you drive me to Portland, Maine?”

  “Is that where you’re going?”

  Robin nodded. “Yes, for one day.”

  “You’re taking a big chance.”

  He shook his head absently. “Not so much. It’s almost over.”

  Robin laid it all out on the ride to the airport.

  Dick was stunned. “Are you sure?”

  Robin was matter of fact, “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Dick guided the car into the short term lot. “You know, all hell will break loose. You’ll be famous.”

  He nodded slowly; “I’ll get used to it if I have to, but right now I need hard evidence.”

  Once the pretty black flight attendant took their orders for supper, Robin returned his attention to his business partner. “Dick, you have to close the deal before this shit hits the fan.”

  Dick quipped, “We might be able to up the ante, you know, autographs with every closed deal.”

  Robin pushed Dick’s shoulder. “Don’t even think it.”

  “Don’t worry, I want this deal done now. Kathy flew out this morning. I talked to her before I picked you up.” He seemed uncertain how much to say; “It’s not so easy reading her signals over the phone. I’m worried about her.”

  Robin came to Kathy’s defense; “She feels like it’s her baby, our baby. Don’t worry, once the decision is done, she’ll be on board. It’ll be like old times.”

  Dick shook his head. “Not without you there. She’ll be different,” more thought, a little smile, “maybe better. I think she’s finally resigned to losing you.”

  Robin laughed. “You’ve been listening in on us.”

  Dick shook his head. “No, but I’ve known Kathy a long time. She wears her feelings on her sleeve. I think she’s done crying.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The water coursed down her naked body, sucking away a heat of her bridled passion and releasing a cold chill of reality. You’re being the fool. Even if he’s innocent, why would he pick you? There’s Simpson, or a hundred other women looking to corral the man. She rinsed the shampoo from her hair. What the hell are you thinking?

  She wrapped a towel around her hair and dried her body. When she raised her eyes she was greeted by the face in the mirror. All she saw were the flaws, God’s mistakes, and her own. Hair too thick, lips too full, freckles if the sun ever shone again. Those little lines in the corner of her eyes. She squeezed the fat around her waist; not much, but compared to Simpson she was a cow. Breasts still firm, but gravity would one day win that battle too. Simpson had no breasts to speak of, lucky girl. Don’t look at your butt!

  She heard the door slam. “Mom, I’m home.” She imagined Meg searching around the kitchen. “Mom, are we having pizza?”

  She called, “That’s for you, hon. Eat up so we can get to the library.”

  She heard the, “Great.”

  Maureen applied some make up, but there was no fixing her. She threw her hands up in disgust and trumped down the stairs.

  Meg was on the second piece; she wiped her lips and whistled. “Wow, you look great, Mom.”

  Maureen felt her cheeks redden. “Come on, I look like I always do.”

  She poured orange juice into a large glass and sat across from her daughter.

  Interrogation ran in the family; “So, did you eat the other six pieces yourself?”

  She defended herself; “There were only four, and I ate only one.”

  “Who ate the other?”

  Maureen blushed like a schoolgirl. “Robin Morgan.”

  “That’s great.” Meg broke a corner of crust off the pizza and put it to the side for her box of mementos.

  “Does he know we’re helping him?”

  “No, kitten; that would be too dangerous. We can’t tell anyone,” she warned.

  Meg’s eyes lit up. “Are we being dangerous?”

  “More than you know.” She held her daughter by the shoulders. “If this goes bad, I’ll really be in the soup. Do you understand?” She let the words sink in, as much for her own benefit as Meg’s. “I might not be a cop any longer.”

  With the certainty of youth, Meg said, “Mom, we’re not wrong. We have to go for it. I’m proud of you.” She pushed forward and hugged Maureen.

  It took twenty minutes to drive to the main library. They talked about school because the topic of Robin Morgan was too sensitive for both women. At the microfilm machine they leapfrogged month by month through the USA Todays until the librarian said the building was closing.

  Four hours of scanning headlines, reading articles, printing, showing each other, filing or tossing out. They used surprisingly few words, communicating with nods and looks.

  As they made their way wearily down the steps Meg took her mother’s hand; they were close again.

  Suddenly the skies opened up and they huddled under a tree; they thought shared thoughts, like a single mind.

  Maureen whispered, “It is circumstantial evidence, Meg. I need more.”

  Meg understood. “It’s a start. It proves you did the right thing.”

  The detective looked within. “I think Robin Morgan trusts me, always trusted me, to do the right thing.”

  “So do I.”

  Chapter 16 - Wednesday, June 28 - 5:00 am

  Robin’s plane was early. At the check-in counter where they’d agreed to meet, Jack Daniels was nowhere to be seen. At six, his cell phone rang. Daniels was stuck in traffic. He said twenty minutes.

  Robin scanned the departing flights and checked his list of alleged murderers. David Jones was in Trenton. He sifted through his file. David Jones – Trenton. He found the lawyer’s name in the article, Randy Hilger. He got the home number from information.

  The phone rang ten times before it was picked up by the lawyer. Robin apologized for the hour, and then gave his spiel. Hilger listened without interrupting, but Robin heard him easing out of bed, then he heard a door click shut. Hilger said he’d pick Robin up at the airport. Robin gave him the flight number.

  He was reviewing his notes when Jack Daniels showed. The resemblance was striking; close up they looked like brothers.

  Daniels shook his hand. “Part of your story checks out.”

  Robin nodded. “It’s all going to check out, Mr. Daniels.”

  They bought coffee and scones at the Starbucks kiosk.

  Daniels spoke first. “I’ve done a lot of reading about you, Mr. Morgan, on the internet.” He voiced his doubts; “At first glance, it appears the only connections we share are our physical appearance and the lack of an alibi.”

  Robin was defensive; “Yes, well I have thirty-five guys who all look alike, and they are all intelligent but too stupid to arrange an alibi.”

  Daniels shook him off. “Hey, I’m on your side. I think you’re right. In bed last night, I thought again about how my parents were killed. It’s been five years since I’ve let it creep into my mind. It’ll make you crazy, you know what I mean?”

  Robin said, “I think so.”

  There was a flash of anger in his eyes. “It was so obviously a set up, but it was obvious only to me, because I knew I didn’t do it. Even my lawyer didn’t believe me.”

  Robin had an inkling how Daniels felt. “No one?”

  “No one, and in its own way, that was my fault.” He looked back in time. “I was desperate for money. Everything I had was poised to go down the toilet. I was
hanging by my fingernails. I asked my parents to help, but they were sure I’d picked a loser.” He shook his head at the memory of it. “They were right. I was the only one who couldn’t see it. My wife, my kids, they thought I was nuts. They were praying for me to fail soon, to end the hell I was putting them through. It took no great leap of faith to think I’d grabbed a last desperate straw.”

  “Where is your family now?”

  Daniels spread his hands, palms up. “I don’t know. I never heard from them after I was arrested. My wife filed for divorce a week later. My lawyer said they changed their names and moved out of state.”

  “And you couldn’t find them?”

  “I didn’t try. I was innocent, I felt betrayed, but in a way they went through as much as I did. They weren’t strong enough. I didn’t have a choice but to bear the consequences. They did.”

  “Still …”

  An angry Daniels raised both hands in a stop pose. “No! They’ve gotten on with their lives, as I have with mine. I don’t particularly want the notoriety your story will bring, but again I have no choice.” He shook his shaggy head. “They won’t either, you know. They learned to live with what they thought I did, and now they’ll have to live with being wrong, with abandoning me. I don’t want to subject them to that.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But I have no choice.”

  “Don’t you want to be found innocent?”

  Daniels answered, “I am innocent, always have been in my own mind. Once I was in prison, I decided God had plans for me, and this was the first step. I used my jail time to get my degree, learn computers and land a good job starting the day I exited that hell hole. It was a trial that made me a better man.” He considered before speaking again. “I was on a long road downhill. My next step would have been criminal anyway. I was weak. Now I am strong. I was lost, now I am found.”

  “So why talk to me at all?”

  Daniels smiled. “Because, where in the past I was bad, now I’m good. It’s as simple as that. If it was for me alone, I’d say the killer will find his justice soon enough.” He focused his gaze on Robin. “You’ve shown me that’s not how it played out. You’re going to deliver justice, and I’m going to help.”