He stared at her for a long moment. “Kendra Michaels. You know … actually meant to write you a note or something. I just … couldn’t.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” He opened the door wide for them to enter.
Kendra and Lynch stepped inside the virtually empty studio apartment. The furnishings consisted of a single lawn chair, a sleeping bag, and a small television set.
Wallach ran his hand through his hair. “So what can I do for you?”
She said gently, “I believe you might guess. Mr. Wallach … why were you visiting Eric Colby in prison?”
After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I guess I’ve been waiting for somebody to call me on that.” He looked away from her as he dropped down in the lawn chair. “It should have happened before.”
“A man murders your little boy, and four years later you pretend to be someone else in order to visit him?”
Eyes glued open staring …
Wallach still didn’t look at her. “Yeah. Pretty messed up, huh?”
“Pretty messed up.”
“Nothing’s been the same since he took Stevie from us. Nothing.”
“I know it’s been hard.”
“No. Life is hard. This is something else entirely. This is hell. That … creature, he took all the love from our lives, he robbed us of whatever happiness we could have had.”
“Where’s your wife?”
He finally looked back to her. “We didn’t make it very long, not after … She had such a good heart.”
Kendra nodded. “I met Sheila right after I joined the case. She was a strong woman.”
“Stronger than me. She ended up leaving town and living with her sister in Mississippi for a while. She couldn’t stand it here anymore. Now I think she’s just moving around a lot. It’s hard for her to settle anywhere.” His tears welled over. “You know, before they found what was left of Stevie, the cops actually thought I might have had something to do with it. I was going out of my mind with worry, and I had to deal with that shit.”
“The police had to look at every angle,” Lynch said quietly. “They were just doing their job.”
“I know that. But then Sheila even started doubting me for a while. I never got over that.”
“You were both under an incredible amount of stress.”
“You think?” he said sarcastically.
She leaned forward. “Norman … Why did you visit Eric Colby?”
He shrugged. “Would you believe I just wanted to see him for myself and try to understand how that kind of evil could exist in the world?”
“No. I wouldn’t believe that.”
Wallach smiled. “Smart woman.”
“So tell me.”
“I went to see Eric Colby … so I could kill him.”
She nodded.
Wallach stood up and walked over to the window. He stared out through the opening left by a missing vertical blind. “For years, I thought it would be enough to see him executed. But after his date was set, I knew it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do it myself, and I wanted it to be painful.”
“This whole point of yours, masquerading as that writer, that’s what this was all about?” Lynch asked.
“I knew they’d never let me near Colby, so I had to come up with another way. I found this true-crime writer who I thought had done enough to interest him, yet wasn’t so famous that there would be pictures on the Web, just in case someone at the prison wanted to check me out. I got some good fake IDs and gave it a shot. There’s a whole application process. I was sure I’d get tripped up somewhere along the way, but it never happened. I got in to see him three times.”
“How did you think you were going to do it?” Lynch asked. “There’s no way you could have gotten a weapon in there.”
“But I did. Three times.”
“How?”
Wallach reached down to the windowsill, picked up a thin white blade about six inches long. He displayed it to them. “It’s made of carved animal bone.”
Lynch’s gaze narrowed on the thin blade. “Very deadly. But I know from personal experience that the guards pat you down extremely, even obscenely, thoroughly.”
“Yes, they do.” Wallach used the tip of the blade to fold back an almost imperceptible flap of skin on the underside of his upper left arm. He pushed the blade until it entirely disappeared beneath his skin.
Kendra’s eyes widened. “How in the hell…?”
“It’s a skin pocket. I cut and cauterized it myself.” He showed her his scarred right arm. “I tried doing it on this one first, but I made a mess of it. It got infected, and I was afraid I was going to lose my arm for a while. But that didn’t stop me from trying it on the other one. This time it worked. Unfortunately, I probably won’t ever be able to completely straighten my arms.”
“So you got it inside the prison,” Lynch said. “What good did it do you? You never used it on Colby.”
“I practiced my move for weeks. I knew I was only going to have one chance before the guards jumped me. One jab straight to the heart, maybe a second or third if I could work ’em in.” He swallowed. “But each time, I lost my nerve. He looked at me with those ugly eyes, and I’d cave. I was a coward. Sheila was right to leave me. Toward the end, I was afraid he’d get suspicious and not let me come back anymore. He asked me to talk to that TV crew, and I did it just so that he’d let me come back. I figured by the time anybody found out I wasn’t that crime-writer guy, it’d be over.” Wallach used his thumb and forefinger to slide out the blade from the cauterized slot in his arm. “And each time I lost my nerve, I was so disgusted with myself that I decided to come home and stab myself in the heart with this.” His mouth twisted with disgust. “But I didn’t have the nerve for that either.”
“Nerve has nothing to do with it,” Kendra said. “Deep down, you don’t want to die. And you know Eric Colby isn’t worth rotting for the rest of your life in prison. I know your son wouldn’t have wanted that.”
Wallach wiped the tears from his face. “I’m just hanging on for tonight. It’s going to happen, isn’t it? After all this time they’re going to kill the bastard. It’ll be such a relief to see that shit stain wiped from the face of the earth.”
“Yes, it will.”
Wallach was silent, then asked, “May I ask you a question?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you kill him when you got the chance? Then it would have all been over a long time ago.”
She flinched.
Lynch immediately stepped in, “That’s not fair, Wallach.”
“Yes, it is,” Kendra said. “No one has a better right to ask.” She stared Wallach in the eye. “I’ve asked myself the same question. I was tempted and resisted the temptation. I thought I was being virtuous and doing the right thing. I didn’t realize that the lingering ramifications of not doing it would be this terrible. Not only for you, but for others.” She reached out and grasped his arm. “I’m sorry that you went through all this. I hope God brings you peace after tonight.”
“I do, too.” He looked down at her hand on his arm. “I hope we all have peace.” He glanced at Lynch. “He was right. I don’t have any right to blame you. You’re the one who caught the bastard. I’ve just been thinking it would have been so much easier for Sheila and me not to have had to go through that court case or the rest of it.”
“Yes,” she said unevenly. “I can see how you would think that. But we have to look forward now. After Colby is dead, it’s not the end for you. As I said, your Stevie wouldn’t have wanted that. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
She glanced at Lynch, then back at Wallach. “Look, Norman. Let us take you someplace where you can get some help. I know people who can make you feel a whole lot better.”
He frowned. “Do I have to go?”
“No. We’re not arresting you or anything. This is just for you.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Fine. But can I have someone come and see you? They can help you here.”
He finally nodded. “Okay.”
“How about you let me hold on to that blade? Would you do that?”
He slowly, gingerly extended the carved blade.
She took it and slipped it into her jacket pocket. The thin blade felt light as air. She couldn’t even tell it was in her pocket. “Thank you, Norman.”
“You’re welcome.” He sat down in front of the television set. “Would you go now? I have to watch the news programs and make sure that Colby isn’t going to slip through the cracks because of those nutty people who want him to live because they never had a son like my Stevie.” He switched on the set. “I feel better that someone knows why I went to see Colby. It was kinda hanging over me.”
“I’m glad we know about you, too, Norman. Remember, you said that I can send someone to talk to you.” She stopped at the door. “That’s a promise, right?”
He nodded, his gaze on the TV screen.
Kendra turned to go.
“Kendra.”
She looked back at him.
“You may need peace even more than the rest of us,” Wallach said quietly. “I’m sorry I made it harder for you.”
“No problem.” She tried to smile as she left the apartment and hurried down the stairs.
“The hell it’s no problem.” Lynch was right behind her. He opened the front door for her. “He nearly tore you apart.”
“No, Colby tore me apart. Like Wallach said, life is hard. This is hell. None of it was Wallach’s fault. We’ve just got to keep him from killing himself after Colby is dead, and he has no purpose.” She got into the Ferrari. “As for blaming me, if he’d known about Myatt, he would have had a right to blame me even more. The chain never really stopped once Colby got his hands on Myatt to influence.” She held up her hand as he started to protest. “I know. You don’t have to tell me. That’s all under the bridge, and we have to move forward. Call Griffin and see if we have any more news on those disposable cell phones. He said that pinging business wasn’t a complete wash.” She took a deep breath to release the tension. “I hope someone can tell us something.”
“You’re a bit on edge.”
“Now why would I be on edge? Just because Colby is going to die, and I’m afraid Myatt will do something horrible to someone when he does?”
“That would do it.” He started the car. “You need this day to be over. But since you’re not like Wallach, who can park himself in front of a TV and zone out until the deed is done, I think we’ve got to keep you busy.” He smiled. “So that’s what we’ll do. I’ll keep you so busy that you won’t have time or mind to worry about Colby or Myatt. We’ll concentrate on details and pings and anything else that comes along. Deal?”
“Deal.” She looked at him with a surge of gratitude. He was solid and sledgehammer tough, and she could trust him to do anything he said he would do. How many people could you say that about? “So what’s first?”
“I guess we should report in to Griffin and see what progress he’s made.” Lynch routed the call through his car’s speakerphone. After briefly discussing their encounter with Norman Wallach, he said, “So what info do you have for us?”
“Not anything that’s very promising.” Griffin paused. “We need time, Lynch. And we haven’t got it.”
“That doesn’t sound good. You were more optimistic this morning.”
Griffin was silent. Then he said, “This isn’t easy for me, Lynch. I have a favor to ask.”
Lynch chuckled and glanced over at Kendra. “A favor. From me?”
“It’s not that big a deal,” Griffin said sourly.
“By all means, let’s hear it. I can’t tell you how I’ll enjoy having you in my debt.”
Griffin unfurled a string of curse words. “That will never happen, you smug son of a bitch.”
Lynch clicked his tongue. “And this is how you ask for a favor?”
“It’s not as if this wouldn’t benefit all of us. I’ve already asked the FBI deputy director to intervene with the governor.” He paused. “I’ve decided that we have no choice but to try to stay Colby’s execution while this investigation is active.”
Kendra felt as if she’d been socked in the stomach. The breath was knocked out of her.
No. No. No.
Lynch was no longer smiling as he glanced at Kendra’s expression. “Really? I thought that wasn’t on the table.”
“I don’t have a choice but to try. As we’ve already discussed, it’s going to be a tough sell. The governor’s office wants this execution to happen, and the longer it’s postponed, the greater the chance that Colby might decide to start the appeals process. We know what that means.”
“Dammit, it means his death sentence might never be carried out,” Lynch said. “Especially if California voters get another whack at capital punishment. The last time it came up at the polls, we came within 250,000 votes of doing away with the death penalty altogether.” He paused. “Which begs the question, do you really want to do this?”
“It’s a devil’s bargain, I know. But we have a serial killer on the loose, and we’re all sure Colby knows who it is.”
Kendra stared at Lynch in disbelief. So cool, so calm. How could he even discuss the possibility of letting that monster live even one more day?
“You may have a difficult time making the governor feel as sure,” Lynch said.
“That’s why I’m forced to ask you for help. I know you have some fairly powerful connections in Washington. People who owe you favors, perhaps.”
“Like you do, Griffin.”
Griffin ignored the comment. “The governor’s office is now evaluating our case-file brief, and we’ll hear by the end of the day. But I would appreciate any influence you can bring to bear.”
“I’ll think about it.” Lynch cut the connection.
“You’ll think about it?” Kendra repeated, amazed. “How can you even consider helping Griffin keep Colby alive?”
“I said I’d think about it, Kendra. I’m not as emotionally involved as you are. I have to weigh the pros and cons.”
“You’re damn right I’m emotionally involved, but I still see right and wrong.”
“Even if I threw in my influence, it would still be an uphill fight. Our governor ran on a state’s rights platform. He’s not going to be receptive to a lot of Washington power brokers telling him what to do.”
“Then let him do what’s right. I can’t understand why you would even contemplate helping Griffin.”
“Because I don’t want any more murders if I can help it.” They were approaching the FBI field office, and he pulled over to the curb. “I’m not you, Kendra. I’ll do what I think is right, not according to Kendra Michaels.”
She looked at him in anger and frustration. Only a short time before she had felt so close to him, and now they couldn’t be further apart. She suddenly couldn’t bear either Griffin’s move or that separation with Lynch. She had to escape.
“Fine.” She jumped out of the car. “But I don’t believe I can stand Griffin and all his people buzzing around trying to commit a crime of their own. I’ll see you all later.”
She heard Lynch curse behind her. The next moment, he was standing beside her. “You know it’s not safe for you to be strolling the streets.”
She kept walking.
He grasped her arm and whirled her to face him. He took her hand and dropped the keys to his Ferrari in her palm. “Take my car. But if you get so pissed you wreck it, you’ll have me to deal with. I’ll call you when we hear something.” He turned and walked away.
She looked down at the keys. He loved that stupid, ego-building car. It would serve him right if she—
But that would make her actions totally immature, and she wouldn’t do anything that lacked dignity. Her anger and viewpoint were just.
And Lynch should know that, dammit.
She turned and walked toward the Ferrari.
San Quentin Penitentiary
Chapel
8:40 P.M.
“THIS IS VERY GOOD OF YOU, WARDEN.” Colby smiled gently. “I’m grateful that you gave me this last opportunity. I didn’t want my final prayers to be in that cell.” He looked around the chapel. “This seems more … fitting.”
“It was a last request. You’re entitled to it as long as there’s no threat, and it doesn’t interfere.” Salazar gestured to the four guards. “Follow him to the altar but allow him space and privacy for his last prayers.” He turned to Colby. “Do you wish to see the chaplain?”
“Why? I’ve seen him before, but it’s too late now. I die in four hours. He can’t give me absolution. I don’t need a middleman.” He looked at the glowing candles and the crucifix above the altar. “How long before I have to go back to my cell?”
“I can give you thirty minutes.”
“That should be enough time.” He glanced at the guards. “I’ll try not to keep them waiting.” His lips twisted. “Nor you, Warden Salazar. I know this is going to be a big night for you. Is it going to be a full house to watch me die?”
Salazar said without expression, “I understand many people are interested.”
“I can see how they would be. I’m something of a superstar.” He started down the aisle, his gaze fixed on the flickering candles below the crucifix. “Let’s hope I won’t disappoint them with my performance.”
Salazar didn’t answer, and Colby closed him out of his mind. He was nothing. Colby had used him, but he was no longer important. He had to concentrate on the task at hand.
He moved into the second pew back from the altar. It was the same pew he’d occupied every time he’d come to the chapel for the last few days. He’d made sure that everything was exactly the same.
Even the guards were in their same positions in the aisle six pews to the rear.
He knelt and looked up at the crucifix. His lips moved as if in silent prayer.
His hand moved down beneath the pew in front of him.
He closed his eyes.
Let it be there.
He could control almost everything but the guard whom Myatt had bribed to do this job. It annoyed him that he’d had to leave details like this to Myatt. He could make Myatt do anything he wanted him to do, but he couldn’t control his choices when he wasn’t in contact with him.
Sight Unseen Page 24
