Part 21 (2/2)
”That's correct.”
”Do you recall how Nickerson got that job?”
”I'd have to ask someone to check the personnel records,” Neil said, starting to work on his stubble again. ”Would you like me to do that?”
”You don't recall giving him the job?”
”Ted”-smiling now, trying to appear friendly, worldly-”that's a long time ago. How could I remember that? One forgets a great many things. In fact, prefers to forget them.”
”And there's no way that your mother could have given him the job? Or recommended him?”
”Of course not. Con had nothing to do with the business. Didn't then, doesn't now.”
”Then I would like to see those personnel records. That would be kind of you. If you could arrange to have a copy sent down to me, care of Kenny Buckram at the public defender's office here in Jacksonville?”
”I'll try.” Neil scratched a note on a desk calendar. ”If they still exist, that is. We may not keep records like that for as long as nine years.”
I was silent for a moment. ”And Gambrel. What do you remember about Victor Gambrel?”
”Victor ... well, I remember him, of course. He came to an unfortunate end.”
”He was shot and killed in his car at the parking lot of the Regency Square Mall in July of 1985. Yes, you could definitely call that an unfortunate end.”
”A real whodunit,” Neil said. ”Might turn up one of these days on that TV show-what is it? Unsolved Mysteries.”
”Maybe,” I said. ”I heard recently, and this is between you and me, that the Bongiorno people were behind it. But I'm still not sure why Gambrel would be a target for organized crime. Doesn't make sense. Does it to you?”
Neil seemed to consider that for a few beats. ”Are you implying that the investigation is ongoing?”
”I wasn't implying anything at all. I didn't know Gambrel. You did, though. You knew him well.”
”I wouldn't say that.”
”The night that Darryl Morgan broke into your house and you panicked him so that he shot your father, you called the police and then you called Gambrel. That's what you told me, and that's what you told the court. Didn't you testify to that when I had you as my witness on the stand?”
Neil cleared his throat. ”Ted, the truth is, I don't remember what I said on the witness stand about Victor Gambrel. That was an exceedingly traumatic time for me-not that I was in mourning for my father, as you well know, but simply that I was deeply concerned about my mother. She had no one else to lean on but me. I called Victor that ghastly night because he was chief of security at what was then my father's company, and it seemed appropriate to do so.”
”What's your theory as to why he was murdered?”
”What I heard was ... gambling debts. Large sums. To the wrong people.”
”Such as Bongiorno?”
”Might well have been. May I ask you a question now?”
”Fire away, Neil.”
”Why are you getting involved again, and on the other side? Why are you handling Morgan's case?”
”Everyone asks me that,” I said, shaking my head sorrowfully. ”My wife, my law partners, my friends, the state attorney ... and I don't seem to be able to give a very satisfactory answer. I was never happy with what Judge Eglin did-that's one reason. So I suppose it's because I don't think Darryl Morgan received a fair trial and therefore doesn't deserve to die. I've learned something that's fact- specific along those lines. Nothing earth-shaking, but it's of some significance.”
”Which is?”
I sighed and said, ”It's confidential. Something a client told me. Sorry.”
Neil looked at me steadily. ”Is that all?”
”Yes, that's all-and thanks, Neil. My best regards to Connie, and I appreciate your taking all this time.”
We shook hands; then, at the door, I turned. The night before, I'd watched a few minutes of Columbo, with Peter Falk. I said, ”Oh, by the way, there's just one more thing I wanted to ask you ... may I? It's okay?”
”Yes, it's okay,” Neil said.
”I asked you how Floyd Nickerson got that job over at Orange Meadow, and you said you didn't know. Isn't that right?”
”Yes, that's right.”
” You didn't give him the job.”
”That's correct.”
”Because you had no reason to.”
”Correct. I had no reason.”
”And a few minutes ago when I asked you for the personnel records, which you very kindly said you'd provide, you said you didn't know if your office kept those kinds of records for as long as nine years. You did say that, didn't you?”
”I believe I did.”
”Well... I don't believe I told you when it was that Floyd Nickerson quit JSO and went to work for ZiDevco. So how did you know it was nine years ago?”
Neil stared at me calmly. But he was upset. I could see that. You can't control certain bodily functions, and the body never lies.
”I was guessing,” he said.
”You just picked a number, like out of a hat?”
”Yes.”
”And hit it right on the b.u.t.ton. That's remarkable. Can I ask you one more question?”
”If you must.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it. ”I can't believe this. I forgot what I was going to say. It's just gone. Does that ever happen to you?”
”Sometimes,” Neil said quietly.
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