Justice

by Faye Kellerman

  "Fatigue." Oliver shook his head. "Not that I personally think Whitman's innocent. I think he's guilty."

  "Why?" Elaine said.

  "Picture I got of him from talking to his friends," Oliver said. "A cold mother."

  "He's a spooky kid," Decker said.

  Elaine sighed. "The good ones are always gay or weird."

  Oliver smiled. "I'd like to see him nailed. I'm just saying, if you go after someone, do it in the best way possible."

  "I'll work around it," Decker said. "Got a few aces up my sleeve ... thanks for the support, Scott."

  Oliver shook his head. "I just don't understand Davidson's attitude. You don't crucify without evidence. The loo's got a real hair up his ass with this one."

  Several, Decker thought. And they're all African American. 148

  Decker walked into the interview room, taking a seat opposite Whitman. He pulled out a cigarette pack and slid it across the table. Whitman eyed the cellophane carton, then pulled out a smoke and placed it between his lips. Decker lit his cigarette.

  Whitman nodded a thank you, eyes on Decker.

  Decker said, "Congratulations."

  Moody smiled. "He passed."

  "Passed?" Decker focused on Whitman. "Oh, you mean the polygraph. Ms. Reuter took a dinner break. We'll know the results in about an hour."

  Moody sat back in his chair. "Christopher, that means you passed and he doesn't want us to know about it." To Decker, he said, "Sergeant, until we can all be honest, there isn't much purpose to this interview."

  Decker didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out a Xerox copy of a newspaper clipping the sole pickings from his morning in the library. Slowly he moved the paper until it lay in front of Whitman's line of vision.

  Whitman blew out a cloud of smoke, then inched his eyes to the paper. He closed his lids, then opened them, but his expression remained flat. Moody took the Xerox and read the text. He said nothing, handing the article to Kramarze.

  "So when's the big day?" Decker said.

  Reflexively, Moody said, "This aspect of Mr. Whitman's personal life is not germane to the case."

  "I think it is, Counselor," Decker said. "According to the papers, Mr. Whitman is currently engaged to a young lady ... from a very prominent New York family. Then we find out, in his spare time, Mr. Whitman's been sleeping with another girl who shows up dead and pregnant. This does not bode well for Mr. Whitman's future relationship."

  "Is there a point to your sarcasm?"

  "Last I heard, the Benedettos weren't particularly tolerant people."

  "That's because you get your information from the papers," Moody said. "In fact, they are a lovely family."

  "I'm sure they're salt of the earth. Being such down-home folks, I don't know if they'd approve of Christopher's extracurricular activities. Ever read a book called An American Tragedy?"

  "Oh, don't lower yourself with melodrama, Detective." 149

  "Do you want me to write down the name of the book, Mr. Moody?" Kramarze asked.

  "No, Mark, I don't," Moody said. "Sergeant, if you have some pertinent questions that Mr. Whitman might assist you with in Ms. Diggs's terrible death, speak up. If not, I'm going home to watch the game."

  Decker faced Whitman. "When's the big day, Chris?"

  Whitman took another puff and turned to Moody. "Should I talk to him or what?"

  Moody folded his hands and placed them on the table. "Answer his questions, Christopher."

  Whitman stubbed out his cigarette and poured himself a glass of water. "October fifteenth."

  "Of this year?"

  "Of this year."

  "Kind of young to be taking such a big step."

  Whitman didn't answer.

  Decker paused. "Does Lorraine Benedetto know what's going on out west?"

  Whitman looked at Moody. The lawyer said, "He's trying to establish a motive for Cheryl's death. You didn't want your fianc e to find out about Cheryl so you murdered her. Answer him, Chris. Does Lorraine Benedetto know what went on between you and Cheryl?"

  Whitman drained his water glass. "Yes. Lorraine knows about Cheryl and me."

  Decker paused. "Your fianc e is aware of the fact that you've been sleeping with Cheryl Diggs for the past year?"

  "Yes."

  "Has Lorraine always been aware of this?"

  "Don't know," Whitman said. "But she knows now."

  "How about Lorraine's father? Does he know you've been fucking other girls "

  "Sergeant "

  Decker said, "How's your fianc e reacting to all of this mess?"

  Whitman looked at Moody. The lawyer nodded.

  "No one's happy about it," Whitman said. "I know there'll be hell to pay when I get back home. But we're going through with the wedding."

  "You're lucky," Decker said. "She sounds like a very understanding girl."

  Whitman was silent.

  "I got married pretty young," Decker said. "Not quite as young as 150

  you, but twenty-one is still a baby in my book. I had a kid at twenty-two. Lots of responsibility. I always felt I missed out on my youth "

  "Is there a purpose to your biographical digression?" Moody interrupted.

  "If I had known I was going to get married so young, I might have sown a lot more wild oats ... done some real outrageous experimentation "

  "If you feel deprived, Sergeant, take it up in therapy. Either get with the program or we're gone."

  Decker said, "You were adopted by the Donattis at thirteen, Chris?"

  "Yes."

  "Who'd you live with before you were adopted?"

  "My mother."

  "What happened to your mother?"

  "She died."

  "Who's your mother?"

  "Who's my mother? Are you asking me her name?"

  "Yes."

  "Her name was Shevonne, spelled S-I-O-B-A-N."

  "And do you know who your father was?"

  A flash of indignation traveled through the boy's eyes. "Yes."

  "Name?"

  "William Patrick Whitman."

  "He was married to your mom?"

  "Yes."

  "So you're legitimate "

  "Sergeant, I'm warning you," Moody broke in.

  "And what happened to your dad, Chris?"

  "He died when I was nine."

  "How did Donatti come to adopt you?"

  Moody said, "Next question."

  "I'm just trying to get a little background on Mr. Whitman. He's got some blank spots in his bio."

  "For the last time, Sergeant, make it relevant or don't ask it at all."

  Decker said to Whitman, "How long were you and Cheryl Diggs sexually active together?"

  "I've got to think." Whitman folded his hands and laid them on the table. "I got to Central West around a year and a half ago. Shortly after that, I guess."

  "You've been sexually active with Cheryl for a year and a half?" 151

  "Around."

  "But you never considered her your girlfriend?"

  "No."

  "Because you were ... still are engaged to another girl?"

  "Yes."

  "So how would you define your relationship with Cheryl Diggs?"

  "I don't know. Sexual friends maybe."

  "Sexual friends," Decker said. "I like that. Lorraine knew about Cheryl?"

  "You already asked me that. I don't know."

  "Did Cheryl know about Lorraine?"

  "I don't know that, either."

  "Did you ever tell Cheryl that you were engaged to another girl?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "It never came up."

  "Nah, I don't imagine it would."

  "Sergeant "

  "I've spoken to some of your friends, Chris. They told me that Cheryl really liked you. They told me that she considered you her boyfriend."

  Moody said, "That's hearsay."

  "And this isn't a court of law, Mr. Moody." To Whitman, Decker said, "Chris, did you ever correct her impres
sion?"

  "What impression?"

  "Ever tell her you weren't her boyfriend?"

  "Like I said, it never came up. We slept with each other, Sergeant. That was the extent of our relationship."

  "All your interactions with Cheryl were of a sexual nature?"

  "Basically, yes."

  "You never talked to her?"

  "Not about anything substantive, no."

  "Well, what insubstantive things did you and Cheryl talk about?"

  Whitman poured himself another glass of water. "You know, they were so insignificant, I can't even remember. We were rarely alone except when we were having sex. At those times, we didn't talk."

  "How about when you weren't having sex? You ever take her to a movie ... or to a rock concert... or go grab a hamburger with her?"

  "No."

  Decker tried to keep his face neutral, but it was a challenge. "Cheryl was a cheap date." 152

  "She wasn't a date," Whitman said. "It wasn't a one-on-one thing. We always went out in groups. We went to parties. Sex usually took place in the back rooms of the house where the parties were. I've never been to Cheryl's house. She's never seen my apartment. We weren't emotionally close."

  "So who are you close to, Chris?"

  "Sergeant," Moody interjected.

  "Did Cheryl have other sexual partners?" Decker asked.

  Whitman remained impassive. "Yes."

  "And that didn't bother you?"

  "No. She wasn't my girlfriend."

  Decker said, "You have names for some of Cheryl's sexual partners?"

  Whitman said, "You want me to do your job for you, Sergeant?"

  Moody squeezed Whitman's arm. The boy immediately stiffened. "What is the point of this?"

  "Your ex-sex friend is dead, Chris. You're a suspect. I would think you'd want to help me out."

  Whitman said, "I heard rumors. I don't incriminate anyone based on rumors. That's your department."

  Again Moody touched Whitman's arm.

  "Tell me, Chris," Decker said. "How do you know she had sex with other guys ... if all you have is rumors ... and you and Cheryl never talked about anything personal?"

  Whitman paused. "Sometimes when I did her, she had semen in her."

  Decker paused to assimilate his words. "From a previous sexual encounter?"

  "Obviously."

  "And this didn't bother you?"

  "As long as I was protected, what did I care?"

  "I realize Cheryl wasn't your heartthrob, but still, that's pretty damn tolerant."

  Whitman shrugged.

  Decker said, "Just maybe you were more affected than you're letting on?"

  "It didn't bother me. In fact, I liked "

  Moody interrupted, "Chris, just answer the questions."

  "You liked what?" Decker said.

  "Christopher "

  "I liked the fact that she had other guys," Whitman interrupted. "It meant I could walk away without a scene."

  "Didn't quite work out that way. You seem to have created a real big scene "

  Moody broke in. "Sergeant, this is a fact-finding interview, not a forum for groundless accusations."

  "Groundless, Counselor?" Decker said. "Your client admitted having sex with the victim in the hotel room, not once but twice "

  Whitman broke in. "So what?"

  Moody said, "Chris, let me "

  "Yes, I fucked her. But I didn't kill her."

  "Christopher "

  "You know, to me, sex is just no big deal," Whitman blazed on. "I don't carve notches in my belt, I don't have a little black book, I don't get jazzed about conquests, I don't gossip, I don't flirt, I don't talk indiscreetly, and even though girls fall in my face, I don't feel the need to put my dick into everything that moves. While we were together, Cheryl had other partners. I didn't. I was loyal, not because Cheryl was any great shakes but because it wasn't worth the hassle to break in someone else. A pussy is a pussy "

  "Not overloaded with passion, are you, guy?" Decker broke in.

  "I have more passion in a single hair on my ass than "

  "Don't answer him, Christopher!" Moody said. "What's wrong with you?"

  Abruptly, Whitman's fair complexion took on a pinkish hue. He stopped talking, sat back in his seat, and looked at his lap. Then his eyes returned to Decker's flat and cold.

  Decker stared back, keeping his own face impassive. No doubt that this time the kid was telling the truth. Behind that practiced inanimate facade lay a hotbed of pent-up emotions. Decker bet it all came out in his cello playing.

  "So you're a passionate guy, Chris," Decker said. "What turns you on?"

  Whitman looked at Moody.

  The lawyer said, "Tell him what you like, Chris."

  "Music," Whitman said. "Art."

  "Literature?"

  "Sure."

  "Are you a good student?"

  Whitman paused and Decker took it in. Something flashed through the teen's eyes, then died in a flat mask of nothingness. He said, "I get by."

  "Really," Decker said. "I'd think you'd love school. That you'd be a natural since girls aren't much of a distraction for you." 154

  Whitman didn't answer.

  "What are you? Like a B student?"

  "Sometimes."

  "What's your GPA?"

  "I really don't know."

  Decker stared at him. Nothing concrete had changed in his demeanor, yet Whitman was uncomfortable.

  "You're in orchestra?"

  Whitman nodded.

  "You like that?"

  "S'right."

  "Too advanced for the group?"

  "It doesn't bother me."

  "You're pretty damn stoic for being so passionate."

  Whitman didn't answer. He had learned his lesson.

  "How long have you played cello?"

  Whitman turned to Moody. "Why am I answering these questions?"

  "A good point." Moody checked his watch. "It's been a little while. Why don't you contact Ms. Reuter and see if she has the results of the polygraph."

  Decker said, "I'll give her a little more time. But even if he did pass, we all know that polygraphs are notoriously unreliable, Chris. That's why they're not admissible in a court of law."

  "Fine," Moody said. "So now I know that Christopher passed an unreliable test. Can he go over the night of the prom for you so we can get out of here before the witching hour?"

  "All right," Decker said. "Tell me your story, Chris."

  "Where do I start?"

  "What time did you leave the prom?"

  "Around midnight."

  "With Cheryl?"

  "Yes."

  "What did you two do?"

  "We went to some parties."

  "How many?"

  "Two."

  "Did you have sex with Cheryl at the parties?"

  "No."

  "What did you do after the parties?"

  "We went to a hotel."

  "Which hotel?" 155

  "Grenada West End."

  "Go on."

  "We went to a room. The gang was there." Whitman named names. "We partied a little more together."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Drinking ... doping. Someone put some porno on the VCR." Whitman shrugged. "That's about it. Eventually they all left the room in pairs. Maybe that was around two-thirty, three in the morning. When Cheryl and I were finally alone, we had sex twice. Real quick. One, two and it was over."