12th of Never wmc-12

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12th of Never wmc-12 Page 14

by James Patterson


  Fish said, “I know you think I’m going to run, but really, I want to read. My paperback is in the van. It’s a great story and I’m dying to find out what happens.”

  “Tell you what: when you get back to your cell, I’ll be sure to get that book to you. That’s if you show us where you buried Sandra Brody.”

  We were caravanning again, this time on foot. I stayed behind Fish, my hand on my gun. I could imagine that freak in the orange jumpsuit breaking free, zigzagging through the scrub, and bullets missing him, flying into the trees. It wasn’t so hard to believe that Fish might want to get shot out here rather than wait twenty years for his walk to the death chamber.

  But if Fish was anticipating “suicide by cop,” you couldn’t tell from watching him. He chatted with Ron Parker, told Ron that he was a happy person. That he had been a happy baby, and hardly ever experienced doubt or frustration.

  Parker asked, “So what made you kill those girls? What made you cut off their fingers? I really want to know.”

  “If I told you, you’d judge me.”

  “Try me,” said Parker.

  “I might be willing to tell Lindsay.”

  “No. You won’t,” said Parker. “She’s not that interested in your twisted facsimile of a mind.”

  “See? I knew you’d judge me,” Fish said brightly.

  I thought of the way Fish had tortured his victims for hours or days before finally strangling them or stabbing them to death. All those young women had been loved by their friends and their families. I thought about their mothers, and tears came into my eyes.

  I clamped my lips together, using the back of my hand to dry my eyes. I was thinking of Julie. I couldn’t bear to think of losing Julie.

  I heard Fish say, “Hey, Ron. I recognize that rocky outcrop. I climbed past it and turned left at the top of the ravine. There’s a trail up there that goes off to the east.”

  We crossed a brook and dug our hands into crumbling earth in order to climb up the side of the ravine. We turned left at the rocky outcropping and continued east on a deer path.

  Fish, looking as pale as the underbelly of a trout, said to Parker, “It’s been a while since I’ve been here, but see that tree limb that looks like an elbow? You’ll find what you’re looking for under that.”

  The dogs snuffled but didn’t alert. The guards shoveled dirt, but only uncovered roots and stones. Fish suggested that they try just a few more yards up the trail, and they did. After some digging, a shovel hit something that caused interest.

  Parker hiked up his pants cuffs and squatted near the hole. He reached in and removed a bone from the freshly turned earth. Then he pulled out a skull—with antlers.

  Fish laughed.

  “I don’t think I had anything to do with killing that. But I can’t say for sure.”

  He called out to me, “Lindsay, I haven’t been here in a long time, you know?”

  Fish had manipulated all of us to get his outing in the woods. I was mad at myself for letting Ron Parker waste my time. As we hiked back to the road, I called Joe to get an update on our baby girl, but he didn’t answer the phone. I left him a message to call me, and a few minutes later I called him again. Still, Joe didn’t answer.

  Fish was walking backwards, talking to me, telling me he was as surprised as we were that we hadn’t found Sandra. “I’m not so sure what I remember. You know, being in a coma for two years is a big deal. In fact, I’m not sure if I ever knew Sandra Brody or if I just got her name from you.”

  He was screwing with my head.

  I thought maybe God was messing with me, too.

  BOOK IV

  ECLIPSE

  Chapter 68

  PROFESSOR PERRY JUDD tried to make sense of the enormous black hole that had opened in front of him. It was like a portal ringed with light, a tunnel of some sort, and he was being pulled through it as if he were being drawn into an eclipse of the sun.

  The image was stunning, and the feeling of effortless movement was heady. At the same time, the professor knew that what he was experiencing could not be real.

  Either he was dead—or he was having a dream.

  A dream.

  That had to be it.

  He had prepared himself for the possibility of a waking dream by marking an X on the back of his left hand before going to sleep. Now he held out his hands, palms facing away from him, and spread his fingers wide. The bluish light limned each of his fingers, and he could clearly see that there were no Xs, no marks of any kind on the backs of his hands.

  He was almost certainly dreaming, but to be sure, he ran another reality check. This time he pushed two fingers of his left hand into the palm of his right.

  The fingers went straight through his palm.

  He had really done it. He was lucid, aware that he was inside a dream, and that meant that he had control of the story and the ending.

  But first—where was he?

  He was sure he had never been in this place before, but then the location came to him. This had to be the Aquarium of the Bay. He had seen a video of it on the Web. He had planned to take his nephew there one day.

  The main feature of the aquarium was a moving walkway that went through a long glass tunnel, and the fish swam above and around the walkway.

  The shapes he saw bobbing in the halo of light were sharks. Perry Judd didn’t feel that this was a dream about sharks. But he did sense danger.

  He swung his head from side to side and took in the people who had appeared on the moving walkway with him. There was a girl traveling alone, and two young men talking to one another. Someone else had a camera and was angling for various shots of the sea creatures.

  The professor was trying to memorize the sights around him when a sharp, cracking sound tore through his dream. It was a gunshot. He remembered that Sergeant Boxer had told him to look around, to grab the gun, and to remember who the shooter was.

  Who had fired?

  The professor was startled awake.

  He blinked in the blue light of his digital clock, his heart fluttering fast against his ribs like a moth on a lightbulb. He double-checked to be sure. There was his TV. There was his painting of a church in Munich. There was the X on the back of his left hand.

  Definitely, he was awake and at his own home.

  Still, he was aware that something had happened—or was about to happen—in the Aquarium of the Bay. Trouble was, he had failed to see the shooter. Or had he? Maybe it was one of the people he had seen.

  Judd turned on his bedside lamp and called the SFPD. It was only five thirty in the morning, but an operator answered the phone.

  “I have to leave a message for Inspector Conklin,” he said. “Tell him I’ll be coming in to see him this morning.”

  “Your name, sir?”

  “This is Professor Perry Judd.”

  “And your number, please.”

  Judd gave his number to the operator, who said that she didn’t know what time Inspector Conklin would be coming to work, or if he was coming in at all.

  “Tell him that I’ll be there. It cannot wait.”

  Judd hung up the phone and closed his eyes. He wanted to fall asleep and find out what happened inside the aquarium. Three hours later, he took a cab to the Hall of Justice and pressed the elevator button that let him out on the third floor. He found the homicide squad assistant behind her desk and demanded to see Inspector Conklin.

  “He’s expecting me,” said Professor Judd.

  Chapter 69

  THE LAST THING Judge Nussbaum had said before adjourning court for the weekend was “I can hardly wait until Monday, Mr. Kinsela, to see what you’ve got up your sleeve.”

  Kinsela had laughed through his nose, and Keith Herman had nearly grinned his face off, but Yuki hadn’t been amused.

  She had left the courtroom and gone directly upstairs, where she found Red Dog Parisi conferring with Chief Jacobi. She pulled a chair up to Parisi’s desk and the three of them discussed Lily Herman’s kidnapp
ing, her mysterious return, and what effect the child’s reappearance might have had on the jury. They also reassured each other that the gun dealer’s recanting of his earlier testimony was meaningless.

  The next day, Yuki, Nicky, Red Dog, and all the ADAs had gathered to pick their case apart and to critique the new structure of Yuki’s closing argument. They worked on Sunday, too, and even met again this morning to evaluate the media coverage and to incorporate last-minute thoughts.

  The mind meld had been productive and Yuki was glad for the team’s support, but she was still uneasy.

  Damage had been done. She’d told the jury in her opening statement that Keith Herman had killed two people, not one. And while the case was still about the murder of Jennifer Herman, Yuki knew that Kinsela had damaged her standing with the jury. And, by the way, he could slip another knife between her ribs before he was done.

  There was only one witness on Kinsela’s list. It was another of the prosecution’s former witnesses—undercover cop Lieutenant Floyd Meserve.

  Meserve was a good guy and a good cop.

  Keith Herman had tried to hire Meserve to kill his wife and child. No question about it. Their interview had taken place in Meserve’s vehicle and had been recorded on video. The video had been shown to the jury. Keith Herman had told Meserve that he wanted Jennifer and Lily killed.

  Now, as Yuki sat with Nicky at the defense table, waiting for court to reconvene, Yuki muttered to her associate, “How could Kinsela possibly use Meserve against us? How?”

  The minute hand on the big clock moved. The bailiff announced that court was in session. The judge entered the courtroom and so did the jury. The judge banged the gavel, made some general remarks, then asked Kinsela if he was ready to begin.

  Kinsela said, “Your Honor, we call Lieutenant Floyd Meserve.”

  Meserve came through the front doors of the courtroom. He wore a cheap plaid sport jacket, a starched shirt, and a wide blue tie. His pants were shiny and so were his shoes. His ponytail had been hacked off—an amateur job, as if he had done it himself.

  The lieutenant in charge of Crimes Against Persons looked pissed off as he was sworn in. He took his seat in the witness box and John Kinsela, appearing fresh and invigorated in a light gray suit and yellow tie, came toward him.

  Yuki thought Kinsela definitely had something up his sleeve, but she couldn’t fathom what kind of something it could be.

  Chapter 70

  JOHN KINSELA GREETED his witness, Lieutenant Meserve, then asked him, “Are you familiar with Lynnette Lagrande?”

  Meserve sat back in his chair and looked genuinely puzzled before he said, “I don’t understand what you mean by ‘familiar.’”

  “Let me put it this way. Do you know Lynnette Lagrande?”

  “Yes, I know her,” said the former undercover cop.

  “How would you characterize your relationship with her?”

  “Social. I go out with her. Dinner and such.”

  Yuki felt a chill at the back of her neck. What the hell was this?

  “That’s what we call in this country dating, isn’t that right?”

  “Your generation calls it dating.”

  “Well, humor me and the jury and let’s both call it dating, okay? So how long have you been dating Ms. Lagrande?”

  “I really don’t remember.”

  “Long enough to become familiar with her?”

  Kinsela snorted at his own joke. Someone in the gallery let out a high-pitched giggle, which caught on and became a wave of tentative laughter.

  Yuki stood up and said, “Your Honor, I object in the strongest possible terms to the way Mr. Kinsela is fooling around at the expense of this court and the jury’s time. And in the process, he’s taking liberties with Ms. Lagrande’s reputation.”

  Nussbaum said, “Sustained. Mr. Kinsela, this is a murder trial. Don’t do that again. This is your last warning.”

  Yuki sat down hard in her seat and tried to comprehend the bombshell that had just landed in Judge Nussbaum’s courtroom.

  Had she heard it right?

  Floyd Meserve was currently a lieutenant in the police force. A year ago, he had been an undercover cop. He had put a video setup inside his vehicle and interviewed Keith Herman, a thug of a lawyer with a reputation for child abuse and jury tampering and maybe far worse. Herman had sought out Meserve, thinking he was a hit man, a contract killer. And Herman had said he wanted to have his family killed.

  Now this good lieutenant was telling the court that he was dating Lynnette Lagrande, Keith Herman’s former girlfriend.

  How had he met Lynnette?

  And why was John Kinsela asking Meserve about dating Lynnette, anyway? What could that have to do with the case against Keith Herman?

  There was more to come, Yuki could feel it.

  Something big was about to blow.

  Chapter 71

  KINSELA STOOD SIX FEET from the witness box with his hands clasped behind his back.

  “I’m sorry, Your Honor,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make light of the proceedings.”

  From the smile in Kinsela’s pale blue eyes, it was clear to Yuki and everyone else in the courtroom that Kinsela was enjoying himself enormously.

  The judge said, “Watch yourself, Mr. Kinsela. Don’t make me angry.”

  Kinsela apologized again, and then he continued his examination of the witness.

  “Lieutenant, were you dating Ms. Lagrande at the time you met with Keith Herman?”

  “You mean at the time when Keith Herman asked me to kill his wife and kid?”

  “If that’s what he actually did. But let me be more precise. Were you dating Ms. Lagrande before February of last year?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Please answer yes or no.”

  “I don’t keep a date book, for Christ’s sake. What do you think I am? A fifteen-year-old girl?”

  Kinsela said, “Your Honor. Please tell the witness to answer the question.”

  The judge spoke to the witness. “Lieutenant Meserve, you will either answer Mr. Kinsela’s questions truthfully or you will be held in contempt of court. You will be fined and jailed. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir, Your Honor.”

  “Go ahead, Mr. Kinsela.”

  Kinsela let the moment drag out for a second or two, then said, “Who was the informant who referred Keith Herman to you, Lieutenant?”

  “I can’t reveal my sources.”

  Kinsela put his hand on the witness stand and leaned toward the witness. “Let me help you, Lieutenant. Lynnette Lagrande sent Keith Herman to you for the purpose of arranging the murder of Jennifer and Lily Herman, isn’t that right? Lynnette Lagrande was your so-called confidential informant.”

  “I—I—I refuse to answer on the grounds of the Fifth Amendment.”

  “You’re afraid you’ll incriminate yourself, Lieutenant? Is that because Lynnette Lagrande conspired with you to put Keith Herman up to contracting hits on his family? Isn’t it true that it was Lynnette who wanted Jennifer and Lily Herman dead? She wanted to marry Keith Herman for his money, and then Keith would have an accident. The fatal kind.”

  “I take the Fifth. Didn’t you hear me—”

  Kinsela kept going, ran right over what Meserve was saying. “And then, after Keith Herman was in the ground, and Lynnette was a wealthy widow, she could share her life and her new fortune with you. Isn’t that the way it was supposed to go? Isn’t that why you refuse to answer my questions?”

  Meserve’s face was florid and yet the skin around his eyes had gone white. He shouted, “Killing Lily was Keith’s idea.”

  “Is that so?” Kinsela said. “You’re saying Mr. Herman wanted his daughter killed, and yet Lily is alive, isn’t she? And Jennifer Herman is quite definitely dead.”

  Chapter 72

  JOHN KINSELA WAS in his glory and he was basking in it.

  Yuki shot to her feet, saying, “Objection, Your Honor.”

  “On what groun
ds, Ms. Castellano?”

  She made sure to modulate her voice so that she didn’t sound as furious as she felt. “On the grounds that Mr. Kinsela brought in this so-called rebuttal witness for one reason—to discredit him and to confuse the jury. He’s confused me. It’s absurd. It’s insane. It’s total bull.”

  The judge said, “He’s entitled to question the witness, and you’re entitled to cross-examine the witness—”

  “I’m turning state’s evidence,” Meserve shouted. “I’ll testify that Lynnette Lagrande was behind everything. Judge, I haven’t perjured myself. I didn’t kill anyone. Lynnette wanted Keith dead, that’s true, and I was seeing her, but that’s not important because I did nothing wrong—”

  Meserve’s speech was cut off by the word “Liar,” screamed from the back row of the courtroom. Lynnette Lagrande was on her feet, shouting at Meserve, “You liar. You bastard. You weak, lying murderer!”

  It was as if someone had shouted “Fire” inside a circus tent.

  Yuki saw Jacobi stand up in the back of the gallery. He edged out to the aisle, then walked rapidly toward Lynnette Lagrande. He said her name and she whipped her head around, her face still twisted in anger.

  “Ms. Lagrande, we’re gonna hold you on suspicion of conspiracy to commit murder. You, too, Lieutenant Meserve,” Jacobi said loudly. “We’re going to have some questions for both of you.”

  The judge looked stunned. His eyes darted around the court-room as outbursts flared like fireworks going off on all sides. People in the gallery panicked and rushed for the aisle and the exit even as police poured through the courtroom doors.

  Kinsela stood at the defense table with his client and shouted, “Judge Nussbaum, I move to dismiss. There is no case against my client. Lily Herman is alive. There is no evidence tying Keith Herman to the death of Jennifer Herman. Lynnette Lagrande is the responsible party—”

  Lynnette Lagrande had become a wild woman. She screamed at Jacobi, “Get away from me,” and lashed out at him with her nails. Jacobi was almost thirty years older and weighed a hundred pounds more.

 

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